The door opens again, and Tomas steps out. He takes in my disheveled jacket and the tension in my shoulders but doesn't look surprised.
“How do you manage to piss everyone off?” he asks, a dry laugh escaping him.
“It’s a gift,” I mutter, adjusting my collar. I flash a grin and head back inside to find Veronica.
Two hours later, after Ian and Gabe arrive to take over the watch, we finally make our exit. The air outside is crisp, a sharp contrast to thesterile smell of the hospital. I pull up the address Becca sent this morning; the appointment is set.
The hum of the engine is the only sound for the first few miles. Veronica leans her head against the headrest, watching the city.
“She looks better,” she says softly. The relief is evident in the way her shoulders relax.
I reach across the console, my hand finding its place on her thigh. “Yes,” I say. “All thanks to you.”
We pull up to the curb where Becca is already waiting, a vibrant silhouette against the glass front of Estrella’s Boutique. Veronica’s posture stiffens instantly. She stares at the shop sign as if it’s a warning, then turns to me with wide, searching eyes.
“What’s this?”
“This is me taking you shopping,” I say, keeping my voice low and grounded.
I can see the flicker of a panic attack behind her gaze. It’s been so long since she braved a physical store; she’s spent so long hiding behind online shopping, where no one can see her and no one can invade her privacy.
I reach over and take her face in my hands, my palms framing her jaw to keep her focused entirely on me. “Becca’s sister owns this place, and I trust her,” I say, my thumbs tracing a slow, rhythmic circle against her skin. “It’s private. No crowds. And I’m not leaving your side.”
She searches my expression, her breath hitching as she weighs her fear against her trust in me. Finally, the tension in her neck gives way, and she nods. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
I let my thumb linger on her lip for a second longer before I let go. The fear hasn’t vanished, but I’ve given her a tether. I step out of the car and rush to open the door for her. We meet Becca on the sidewalk. Ipull my friend into a quick, familiar hug before she shifts her attention to Veronica, wrapping her in a warm embrace that seems to settle some of her remaining nerves.
We push through the heavy glass doors, and the scent of expensive perfume and high-end dresses meets us. The boutique is quiet, private, just as I promised. Estrella, Becca’s sister, approaches us with a bright, genuine smile that matches the elegance of her shop.
“Camilo! It’s great to see you!” she exclaims, closing the distance to pull me into a welcoming hug.
I return the gesture, then step back to place a hand on the small of Veronica’s back, drawing her forward. "Estrella, I’d like you to meet Veronica."
“Veronica, it’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Estrella says, her warmth filling the space. She gestures toward a curated rack near the center of the store. “I have an array of dresses set out for you, just as Camilo requested. Every color except red. There’s water, coffee, flan, and chocolate cake, as requested.”
Estrella reaches for her handbag and hooks her arm through Becca’s, steering them both toward the front door.
“You aren’t staying?” Veronica asks, her voice hitching with a touch of uncertainty as she looks at the empty, elegant space.
Estrella pauses at the door, flashing a friendly smile. “No, the shop is closed for the day. It’s all yours. Take your time. Camilo has the keys.”
“Thank you for doing this, Estrella,” I say.
“No te preocupes. Es un placer.” She gives a final wave as she and Becca disappear onto the sidewalk. The lock clicks into place, leaving us in the sudden, luxurious silence of the boutique.
Veronica stands motionless in the center of the room, her gaze fixed on me as I walk over to the curated rack of assorted dresses. She looks at them, then back at me.
“No red?” she asks, her voice barely rising above a breath.
“No red,” I confirm, running a hand along a sleeve of pearl satin. “I noticed you never wear it. I deduced it was your least favorite.”
The silence that follows is heavy, filled only with the faint hum of the boutique’s air conditioning. Veronica’s eyes widen slightly, a shimmer of something, surprise, or perhaps the feeling of truly being seen.
“You noticed,” she whispers.
I stop my search and turn to face her fully. The boutique’s soft lighting catches the intensity in her expression, but I don’t look away. I bridge the distance between us until I’m standing right in her space.
