During the drive, Adrian kept glancing at me. Not casually, either. Not the kind of glance someone gives the person sitting beside them. These were quick, calculating looks, like he was trying to figure something out. Like he was studying me. I pretended not to notice and kept my gaze fixed on the passing buildings outside the window.
I remembered this exact date from the first timeline. Back then, Adrian had taken me shopping for a completely new wardrobe. He said he wanted me to have something special for our date, something new. At the time, I had taken his words to heart. I thought he was being thoughtful… romantic, even. Now I realized something else. He simply didn't like the way I dressed.
After the shopping trip, he had taken me to a coffee house owned by one of his friends and reserved the rooftop viewing area for us. I had been so touched by the gesture that I barely noticed how often he checked his phone, muttering quiet apologies about work. I didn't remember much else about the rest of the date. It had been three years ago, after all. But I remembered how I felt that day. Small. Grateful for crumbs of attention that I had mistaken for love.
While I was lost in those memories, a familiar melody filled the car. "Easy on Me" by Adele began playing on the radio, and the sound instantly pulled me back to the present. I used to love singing along to this song whenever it came on. Back then, I sang it without hesitation. Until Adrian told me I was tone deaf. After that, I stopped.
Today, I didn't feel like stopping.
I rolled the window down slightly and began singing along, loud and unapologetically off-key. "I know there is hope in these waters…" Adrian shot me a sideways glance, the kind that was meant to silence me without words. "…but I can't bring myself to swim…" His lips pressed together. "…when I am drowning in this silence…" By the time the chorus arrived, I was fully into it, singing with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Adrian's expression tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. I smiled sweetly and kept going. Let him stare all he wanted. I didn't care anymore.
A few minutes later, the car turned into the wide compound of an enormous building. The towering glass exterior reflected the afternoon sunlight in brilliant flashes. Flair. The biggest fashion house in the entire metropolitan area. Predictable. This was the exact same place he had brought me to the first time.
Adrian stepped out first and walked around the car before opening my door. He extended his hand toward me, waiting expectantly. I didn't take it. Instead, I lightly gripped the cuff of his shirt and used it to pull myself up. His eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but before he could comment, the large glass doors of the building swung open.
"Adrian, darling!"
A flamboyantly dressed woman hurried toward us with open arms. Adrian smiled politely as she approached. "Madame Rousseau."
She stopped in front of him and kissed him on both cheeks. "Mon ami! I'm doing just fine," she said cheerfully. "Much better now that you're here."
Adrian chuckled before gesturing toward me. "Angel, this is Madame Geneviève Rousseau. She's been taking care of all our family's fashion needs for years. Madame Rousseau, this is my girlfriend, Sabrina Harper."
Her eyes moved to me, bright and curious, and her smile widened. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Harper. Welcome to my humble fashion house."
Humble. The place looked like a palace. Crystal chandeliers glowed softly overhead, reflecting light across polished marble floors. Elegant mannequins wearing exquisite designs lined the room while soft instrumental music floated through the air.
After we got married in the first timeline, Adrian used to send me here frequently to buy clothes. Ironically… he also criticized many of the outfits I chose. "You don't dress like the wife of a future CEO," he would say with quiet disapproval. The memory almost made me laugh.
"Would you like a glass of champagne while you shop, madam?" a staff member asked as she approached.
"No, thank you," I replied politely. "Just a bottle of cold water, please."
"Of course." She gave a quick nod and hurried away.
Adrian turned toward me. "Angel, shall we begin? What dresses would you like to look at first?"
The first time he had asked me that question, I had been too shy to answer honestly. I was worried he would judge my taste. So I had let him choose everything.
Not this time.
"I'd like something different from my usual style."
"Different?" Adrian tilted his head slightly. "But you look gorgeous dressed like this."
I nearly laughed at the irony. Three years later, he would say the exact opposite.
"I think I'd like a stylist," I said, turning toward Madame Rousseau with a pleasant smile.
"Oui, of course!" she replied enthusiastically. "Marissa, come attend to them!"
Ah. Marissa. I remembered her. She had spent the entire appointment flirting shamelessly with Adrian while barely acknowledging my existence.
Right on cue, she approached with a dazzling smile. "Hello, Mr. Holt. I'll be happy to assist you and your guest today."
Guest. Interesting choice of words.
Just then, the staff member who had taken my drink order returned with my water. I thanked her and accepted the bottle. Then an idea formed in my mind.
I turned back to her. "Are you a stylist as well?"
She looked surprised that I was addressing her directly. "Yes, ma'am."
"What's your name?"
"Rita, ma'am."
I turned to Madame Rousseau. "I'd like her to be my stylist," I said with a pleasant smile. "And please ensure she receives the full commission for everything we purchase today."
The reaction was immediate. Marissa's expression froze.
Madame Rousseau, however, merely smiled smoothly like the experienced businesswoman she was. "Of course."
She gestured toward the hallway leading to the private dressing rooms. Rita quickly grabbed a small notepad and followed me.
Inside the dressing room, Rita stood quietly with her pen ready. "What would you like to start with, ma'am?"
Instead of answering immediately, I asked another question. "How long have you worked here?"
"Three years."
"And do you like it?"
Her face brightened instantly. "Yes, ma'am. Madame Rousseau treats everyone like family and encourages us to treat each other the same way."
Her smile dimmed slightly at the end. I noticed, but I didn't press further.
"Good," I said lightly. "Then let's begin."
After hours of trying on dresses, shoes, and accessories, we finally settled on a few selections. Rita styled my hair before stepping out to finalize the purchases.
When she returned, she informed me that Adrian was outside settling the bill.
I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. The emerald green dress hugged my figure perfectly, its rich color highlighting the warmth of my skin. The gold accessories Rita had chosen gleamed softly under the dressing room lights.
Confident. Elegant. Powerful.
Yes. This felt right.
When I stepped out of the dressing room, Adrian looked up from his phone. For a brief moment, he seemed completely speechless.
I gave a small twirl. "You like it?"
He swallowed before nodding slowly. "Yes… it looks amazing on you."
Good.
When he turned to finish settling the payment, I caught his hand and leaned closer. "Don't forget to add a generous tip for Rita," I whispered softly. "She deserves it."
He studied my face for a moment before smiling. "Of course, Angel."
A few minutes later, we left the building. Staff members carried the shopping bags behind us as we stepped into the bright afternoon sun. Adrian opened the car door for me again, and this time I slid inside without a word.
The day wasn't over yet.
As we drove, I glanced at the time. 3:15 p.m. I had spent almost three hours shopping.
Adrian soon pulled up in front of the coffee house and came around to open my door. This time, I reached out and took his hand. I did it deliberately, letting my fingers curl lightly around his. I had probably been a little too obvious earlier. If Adrian started wondering why I was acting differently, things could become complicated. For now, it was better to let him relax.
We stepped inside the coffee house and placed our drink orders. I had always loved caramel iced lattes, so I ordered one while Adrian chose a cappuccino. We took our drinks up to the rooftop terrace to wait and relax.
The view was surprisingly beautiful.
In the past, I had often ignored the scenery around me, too focused on Adrian to notice anything else. But New York was alive with motion and sound. Towering buildings surrounded us on all sides while traffic hummed endlessly below. Above it all stretched a wide afternoon sky.
This time, I would notice things.
Adrian kept up a steady stream of conversation, asking if the other outfits I bought were just as beautiful as the dress I was wearing.
I smiled and winked lightly. "I guess time will tell."
The next hour passed quietly—not for his lack of trying, but because I simply didn't have much to say to him. Every so often, Adrian checked his phone, muttering something about work.
This time, I knew better.
After finishing our drinks, we left the café and headed to our next stop: an art museum.
That was new.
During the first timeline, we hadn't come here. I suspected it had something to do with the way I was dressed.
The museum's sculpture garden was peaceful and quiet. Before long, I found myself wandering from piece to piece, studying each carefully crafted form.
One sculpture stopped me completely.
It showed a woman kneeling in front of a man. Her hands were clasped together in a desperate pleading gesture, tears carved into her face. The man sat in a chair with his head lowered… staring at his phone, completely ignoring her.
My chest tightened painfully.
I didn't know this woman, yet the emotion captured in the sculpture felt unbearably real.
A woman loving someone who didn't love her back.
I didn't realize tears had slipped down my cheeks until Adrian tapped my shoulder.
"Angel… are you okay?"
I quickly wiped my face. "Yes. I'm fine."
We continued walking through the garden. At one point Adrian stepped away to take a call. Not long after, we left the museum.
Our next destination was La Dolce Mer, a French-Italian fusion restaurant.
The interior was elegant and softly lit, decorated with warm gold tones and polished marble. Adrian walked to the hostess stand to confirm our reservation. After checking the computer, a young man in a crisp white shirt and black vest approached and led us to our table.
Adrian made sure I was seated before taking his own chair. The server handed us two menus and gave us a moment to decide.
For our appetizer, we ordered the heirloom tomato and burrata salad.
For the main course, I chose chicken scampi linguine while Adrian ordered seared duck breast with polenta. Dessert would be lavender crème brûlée.
"May I recommend a Pinot Noir?" the server asked politely. "It pairs beautifully with both dishes."
Adrian and I exchanged a glance before nodding.
"I should mention," I added calmly, "I'm allergic to shellfish. Please make sure the chef knows."
The server nodded immediately and wrote it down.
Just as he turned to deliver our order to the kitchen, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Sweet Sabrina."
I looked up.
Selina stood beside our table with two people I didn't recognize.
Adrian's face softened instantly as he greeted her with a warm smile.
I kept my expression neutral.
"Sel," I said calmly. "What brings you here?"
"Oh, just dinner after work with friends," she replied brightly. "This place is my favorite."
Since I had nothing else to add, I simply smiled.
Selina returned the smile before glancing at Adrian. "Well, I'll leave you two to enjoy your date. Bye, Rian. Bye, sweet Sabrina."
Then she walked away.
Soon after, the appetizers arrived. We chatted lightly as we ate, and after a while the main dishes were brought out along with our bottle of wine. The server apologized for the delay, mentioning a small incident in the kitchen before pouring the wine and leaving.
I didn't think much of it.
I cut into my meal and took a bite of the chicken. A soft murmur of satisfaction escaped me.
It tasted good.
Although… something about the texture felt strange. The meat seemed softer than usual, less chewy. I assumed they had simply cooked it longer than normal.
Then, seconds later, something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
My tongue began to tingle.
My throat tightened as if something were stuck inside it. I tried clearing my throat, but the sensation only grew worse. When that didn't help, I took a sip of wine.
It only made the burning spread faster.
A cold realization slowly formed in my mind.
I was having an allergic reaction.
My throat was closing.
I signaled desperately to Adrian as I stumbled to my feet. Nearby guests turned to stare while Adrian hurriedly searched my bag for my EpiPen.
But it wasn't there.
Selina suddenly appeared beside the table.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
People around us began murmuring in concern. My vision blurred as my lungs struggled desperately for air.
And just before everything faded to black, I saw it.
A faint, malicious smile on Selina's lips.
Oh.
I see what you did.
Then the world went dark.