Chapter 137

Ella

My eyes widened at the attendant’s comment. “What do you mean by ‘he really likes me’?”

She hesitated, as if she was unsure how much to reveal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier, but you guys aren’t exactly quiet,” she finally said, her eyes darting to the curtain behind which I had hidden from Logan—and my own reflections—just minutes before.

I felt my curiosity pique. “And? Spill it, what did you hear?”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “Look, this might sound weird coming from a complete stranger, but that man out there,” she pointed subtly towards Logan who was thankfully still outside, “he’s lying through his teeth.”

I arched an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “About what exactly?”

“About the tropics, the hot women, all that. I don’t know what he’s trying to do exactly, but it seems like he’s just trying to make you jealous.”

My face must have been a puzzle of confusion, doubt, and a little hope, because she hastened to add, “Hear me out, okay? First, he doesn’t look like he’s been anywhere near a tropical sun. Not a tan line or a sunburn in sight.”

I thought about it, my mind going back to Logan’s complexion. She was right; he was as pale as I remembered. Not sickly pale, but certainly not the complexion of a man who had been laying on the beach for days on end. “Okay, go on.”

“Second, when he talked about other women being ‘hot,’ did you notice how he kept shifting his eyes? Like he was nervous or something?”

“No,” I admitted. “I was too busy feeling… well, never mind what I was feeling. So, you’re saying he’s lying?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s what it looked like to me. And then when you came out in that dress? Trust me, he was more than impressed. I’ve seen that look plenty of times in this store; he thinks you’re beautiful.”

A laugh burst out of me, surprising us both. “You think he’s trying to make me jealous, and he finds me beautiful? That’s a lot to digest.”

“I see people in here all day, every type of relationship you can imagine. Yours? Yours is not as transparent as you think it is, or maybe as you wish it was,” she ventured cautiously.

I was silent for a while, my mind racing. The attendant busied herself with rearranging a display of scarves, giving me space to think. My gaze drifted back to my reflection. Could Logan really be trying to make me jealous? And did he actually find me attractive?

I blinked at myself. What was I doing, allowing the observations of a stranger to dredge up hope? A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. Hope was a dangerous thing.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Forget I said anything,” the attendant finally said, breaking the silence.

My eyes met hers in the mirror again. “No, it’s fine. Sometimes it takes an outsider to point out the things we’re too blind—or too close—to see.”

She nodded, as if understanding more than her years would suggest. “Well, whatever is happening between you two, it’s intense. That much is clear.”

I shook my head, letting a wry chuckle escape my lips. “You have no idea.”

We shared a glance, and in that brief eye contact, I felt like she saw the whole messy, complicated backstory unfold without me ever having to say it..

“But you’re right, this dress is beautiful,” I said, changing the topic back to the fabric that clung to me so perfectly.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t think so. And he clearly agrees, whether he’s brave enough to say it or not.”

Her words gave me pause. “You seem awfully good at reading people,” I remarked, my eyes still meeting the attendant’s in the mirror. “Why is that?”

She chuckled, her hand hesitating over a row of pastel-colored scarves she was arranging. “Let’s just say I’ve been through a similar experience of confusion and mixed signals when it comes to men. My boyfriend—well, he’s my boyfriend now—pulled something like this on me once.”

“Oh, really?” I arched an eyebrow, intrigued and amused all at once.

“Yeah, really. We had this silly break-up, mostly because of miscommunication and youthful arrogance. A few weeks afterwards, I saw him at a cafe, and he lied about having a new girlfriend. Even showed me photos on his phone like I wouldn’t notice that they were just pictures stolen from an Instagram model.” She chuckled, shaking her head at the memory.

“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s ridiculous when I think about it now. But the lies were so transparent that even a child could see through them. We eventually confronted the elephant in the room—or rather the cafe, in our case. As it turned out, we were both being incredibly naive. We got back together, and we’ve been in love ever since. We often look back and laugh at our foolish past,” she explained, a soft glow lighting up her eyes.

“That sounds like something out of a rom-com,” I mused. “I’m happy for you.”

"Thank you. But here's the kicker. The way your friend—or fiance, or whatever he is—” she added with a wink, “looked at you when you came out in that dress? That’s the look my man had when he finally came clean. You guys have chemistry, even when you’re arguing.”

I laughed to myself, half in disbelief and half in relief. “Wow, if this is true, then men are just as silly as I thought they were.”

She joined in my laughter. “Oh, they are. They really, really are.”

I smiled at her reflection, grateful not only for the dress but for the keen insight. “I should change back, huh?”

“Only if you're ready to face him out there,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

I let out a soft chuckle. “Ready as I’ll ever be. And I'm taking this dress.”

“Excellent choice,” she affirmed, pulling the curtain open for me.

As I changed back into my regular clothes, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just been swindled by the saleswoman of the century, but I didn’t care. It was a beautiful dress, and the revelation about Logan’s potential lies brought me a strange sense of fire in my veins.

I emerged from the fitting room, the dress now neatly folded and carried by the attendant towards the cash counter. As she rang up my purchase, she spoke, her voice tinged with sincerity. “You know, most people come here looking for something to wear. Few leave with something they actually needed.”

“Your words are as fitting as this dress,” I replied, smiling.

“That’s the goal,” she said with a wink, handing me the neatly packaged dress.

With a final wave and a thank-you, I left the store and stepped out into the mall corridor. There he was, Logan, leaning against the wall as if he had all the time in the world. The moment he saw me, he pushed himself off the wall, cleared his throat, and spoke.

“All done?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine in a way I hadn’t seen or felt all day.