Chapter 176
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I don’t know why Ellie refuses to look at the seating charts but memorizes medical textbooks like her life depends on it. I don’t know why she flinches when I get too close some days, then leans into me on others like she forgot she was supposed to hate me for some reason. I don’t know why every step toward her feels like approaching, something wild that might bolt or bite depending on the hour.
Every time I give her space, she accuses me of not caring.
Every time I step in, she looks at me like I’ve taken something from her.
It’s exhausting.
But I don’t quit things.
From inside the dressing room, there’s a sudden sharp noise. A rustle. Then Ellie’s voice, raised.
“Are you kidding me?! Stop. GET OFF ME!”
Ellie’s voice cuts through the door sharp enough to make my spine lock.
I go still immediately, every instinct snapping to attention, but Vivian moves before I can even process it.
“Oh!” she gasps, hand flying to her chest. “Is she alright? Ellie? Ellie, are you okay?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer.
Before I can stop her, before I can even say her name, she reaches for the handle and throws the door open like she’s unveiling a
monument.
And everything freezes.
Ellie stands in the center of the room, two maids hovering helplessly around her.
The skirt of the dress is already fitted, white lace spilling around her feet like something fragile and sacred.
The bodice is not.
Her bare shoulders are exposed, her arms snapping, crossed tightly over her chest as she wrestles with the fabric, hair slightly disheveled from the struggle. She turns at the sound of the door, eyes going wide when she sees us.
When she sees me.
I drop my gaze instantly, dragging a hand over my face with a sharp exhale.
“Close the door,” I say flatly.
Ellie lets out a strangled sound, scrambling to grab the bodice fully to her chest. “Are you insane? Vivian, you absolute snake-”
Vivian recoils like she’s been struck. “I thought you were hurt!”
“I was fighting a zipper,” Ellie snaps. “Not dying. Get. Out!”
The seamstress looks like she might faint, hands fluttering uselessly before rushing forward to help Ellie secure the bodice.
I keep my eyes down.
“Do you knock?” Ellie fires at Vivian. “Ever? Or is basic decency not part of your personality?”
“I was worried,” Vivian says softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know. I was trying to help.”
“Help by flashing me in front of him?” Ellie, I assume, gestures wildly in my general direction. “He’s not even supposed to see
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the dress yet!”
“He wasn’t looking,” Vivian insists weakly.
“He was! We locked eyes you-”
“Enough,” I cut in, stepping forward before this escalates any further. “Both of you.”
Ellie whips toward me immediately, eyes blazing. “Oh, now you’re stepping in.”
“Yes,” I say evenly. “Because this is about to turn into something unnecessary.”
“It already has!” she snaps. “She did that on purpose! Gods! You always take her side!”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and that’s when I see it.
Not just anger.
Something underneath it. Something sharper.
Hurt.
She’s…
I don’t take my eyes off Ellie.
“Everyone out,” I say.
Vivian hesitates. “Dominic, I was only-”
“Out.”
She leaves.
The seamstress quietly slips past us toward the door, sensing the shift. The maids follow. The door shuts behind her with a soft
click.
Silence settles around us.
Ellie stands there half dressed, clutching the bodice to her chest like armor, breathing hard. The skirt pools around her feet, lace and light and fury all wrapped into one person.
She looks cornered.
She looks like she’s ready to bite.
“You weren’t supposed to see it,” she says, voice tight. “Not like this.”
“I didn’t,” I replied quietly. “I looked away.”
She laughs bitterly. “How honorable.”
Her eyes flick up to mine despite herself, tears welling. “Gods, you’re such a liar. You’re looking right now.”
2.3
