Kitimn let God the dress be and said, “No, thank you.” Then, she left the boutique and walked into another, where she picked a minimalist, pure white gown. The front was modest, but the back was dramatically open, and its mid-length cut made it hard to pull off unless you had the right frame. She didn’t look plain. Instead, the dress complemented her perfectly, giving her an edge that…

However, Autumn had sharp, striking features and an effortlessly cool aura. Even in white, she almost felt dangerous. The sales associate, Sophia Parker, helped pin up Autumn’s shoulder-length dark hair into a half-up style, fully exposing the low-cut back. Under the soft lighting, the stark contrast between her pale skin and dark hair was stunning—she almost looked like she was glowing.

Sophia paused and blurted out, “You’re so elegant, so beautiful, and… and…”

Autumn tilted her head, surprised by the hesitation. “And what?”

“Cool,” Sophia mumbled.

“Cool?” Anum echoed.

Sophia nodded hard. “It’s a vibe. Like someone you can really count on.”

She almost let slip a cheeky, “Please, wife me,” but bit her tongue. After all, she wouldn’t want to freak out a customer or get mistaken for hitting on her. Still, if it were this stunning woman in front of her, she might honestly reconsider her orientation.

Meanwhile, Aaqanin had no idea her sales associate had mentally floated off into another galaxy. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to understand that word—cool. Olivia had said something like that once, and Autumn had never really believed it. She turned to Sophia and asked, “Why don’t I ‘cool’?”

“Probably because you don’t dress up much. And no one’s been saying it to you lately,” Sophia said honestly.

“My friends used to say that,” Autumn mumbled.

“Then it’s been a long time since you’ve heard it,” Sophia replied.

Autumn thought about it and realized that ever since she married Damien, all she ever got from him and his friends was criticism. Consequently, she’d shut out every other voice that might have seen her differently. It seemed that marriage had truly blinded her and made her lose sight of her own worth.

Sophia watched her fall silent, then tossed out a smooth follow-up. “Why don’t we change that? I’ll compliment you every single day.”

Autumn looked up, a little off guard. Sophia turned red under her gaze. Those in her profession were thick-skinned social butterflies, yet here she was, stumbling over an explanation.

“My friend and I have this hyp squad group chat where we compliment each other. It’s silly, but it really does boost confidence. Of course, no pressure if you’re not into it.” Autumn held out her phone, and Sophia instantly fell silent. Two seconds later, cheeks flaming, she quickly typed her number. Then, Autumn did the same on her phone. New beginnings meant meeting new people. Sophia was warm, kind, and full of positive energy—she was exactly the kind of person Autumn wanted more of in her life.

After buying the gown, Autumn picked out two tailored suits for work and a sharp trench coat. Everything she chose was clean-cut and modern, a far cry from the soft, forgettable style she…

Shabo grabbed a few silver accessories and returned home with several shopping bags in hand. On the drive back, she passed a storefront she hadn’t expected to notice—Mapleware. It was a foreign brand that Dewar once bought glassware from. The crystal-clear glassware inside looked more like art than drinkware, and it was truly beautiful. Autumn hit the brakes on impulse. There was no particular reason—she just wanted to buy something. Inside, her eyes immediately landed on a glass shaped like a tree. She liked forests, so…

She was just about to pay when she heard a teasing voice with a thick Crestia accent. “Come on, I asked which cup you liked, and you keep staring at her. Is she a friend? Secret crush?” Autumn glanced in the direction of the voice. Dawson was lounging on a sofa while his friend, Rico Salara, held up different glasses, probably trying to get his opinion. Bro was now flicking his gaze between her and…

He leaned in and whispered to Dawson, “That’s the third time you’ve looked.”

The first was just a glance—fr… (The text abruptly ends here.)