The car ride to the mall was quiet. Not the uncomfortable, heavy kind of silence but a peaceful one. I get the feeling he is not one for small talk and honestly, neither am I. His eyes were straight ahead, one hand on the wheel, the other one lazily gripped the gear shift. I leaned into the chair and stared at the world on the other side of the window.
The car was quiet but my thoughts weren't. I kept thinking about that baby room. I don't buy his explanation but I also don't have the right to ask him. Why do I even want to know?
When we pulled into the mall's parking lot, I perked up a little because it was a place I recognized.
"There's this place on the third floor, Marseilles, I know the owner. If she is there, she will treat me well. Her clothes always fit me perfectly."
Mikhail put the car in park, then turned to face me. "Yeah. No."
"What. Why?" I asked alarmed.
"We're not going to some high-end place where the shop girls might phone your mom the second they see your face. We are hitting the thrift store across the lot."
My eyes nearly popped out of its socket. "A thrift store? As in, used clothes? Do you know what my mother says about those?" no way in hell am I wearing used clothes.
"Let me guess, you'll catch leprosy from a pair of jeans?" he muttered sarcastically.
"She said they could carry all kinds of bacteria and diseases from God knows who."
He rolled his eyes at me and opened the door. "Yeah, and your mom also thinks forcing her daughter to marry a rich stranger is totally fine. Let's rethink our sources of wisdom."
I scowled at him but followed him anyway.
The thrift store smelled faintly of lavender, not musty like I expected. I folded my arms tightly as I followed behind Mikhail. I noticed a rack of oversized hoodies that seemed similar to his, which means this is most likely where he shops.
"This is ridiculous," I mumbled.
My eyes scanned the store then landed on a blue sundress looking almost new. It looked really pretty. I touched it without thinking.
"Like it?" Mikhail asked, watching me.
I didn't answer him, just grabbed it off the rack and tucked it under my arm.
a few steps later, I found a soft black sweater with a cowl neck. It looked cozy, expensive even. Then a pair of high-waist jeans. A cherry red corduroy jacket.
Mikhail kept handing me hangers, things he thought I might like. He has somewhat good taste. Eventually my arms were full.
"I hate how much I like this," I groaned.
"I won't say I told you so," he said smirking, "but I did."
I laughed softly and disappeared behind the changing room. I stepped out wearing the sundress which had a slit on my thigh. He even got me new shoes. The fabric hugged my frame just right, and the white sneakers gave me a casual look.
I looked like a version of myself that had never existed before.
I twirled smoothly then looked at Mikhail.
"How do I look?"
He looked up from him phone and let his eyes sweep over me. He held an expression I didn't understand but it was gone too quickly.
"You look good," he simply said.
After paying for them, we were juggling shopping bags as we made our way out of the store. Then I heard an obnoxious voice.
"Ew!"
We turned just in time to see two girls coming our way. They were dressed in brand names from head to toe, with flawless makeup and judgemental expressions on their faces.
"Imagine being desperate enough to shop here," the first one said loudly enough to be heard. They shared a laugh as they passed us.
I felt like shit.
The second girl caught sight of Mikhail's face and smiled slyly.
"Why hello." her voice changed instantly. She tucked a hair behind her ear and approached him with a flick of her hip.
"You don't look like you belong here. I'm Tania."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't."
I couldn't say anything and just watched them silently.
She reached out, aiming to touch his arm. "You know if you're looking for real clothes, there is this boutique-"
"I'm not," he cut in and closed the gap between us so that we were touching. "We're good."
Tania blinked, then, as if finally noticing my presence, she turned to me.
"She's yours?" she asked with fake politeness.
I was surprised by him but I went along with it, managing a sweet smile and leaning into him more.
"Yup. I'm the thrift store girlfriend. We are a discount bundle."
Mikhail let out a short laugh, a smirk at the corner of his lips. But just as he gestured for us to leave, the girl's expression suddenly changed.
Her eyes widened and she tilted her head with a smile.
"You look familiar. Right Michelle?" her friend came closer to study me.
"Alina Etienne?" I froze. I didn't think anyone would recognize me. She scrolled on her phone and showed me a picture of myself at the wedding.
"Oh my God, it is her!" they gasped and laughed. "The runaway bride! She is all over social media! I hear her dad is literally offering a reward for information about her whereabouts."
Mikhail stepped in front of me and coolly said. "You must be mistaken. Do you think a high class woman like that would be caught dead shopping in a thrift store?"
Those words seemed to sting a little. He is right. Alina Etienne… the sole heir to the Etienne dynasty will never be seen wearing used clothes. I guess I'm no longer that Alina anymore.
They looked at each other, then back at me.
"You're right. She is way too bougee for that. She'll probably die if she inhales the poor smell." they laughed in synergy.
"Where ever she is, she better get ready to apologize because her daddy has people looking for her everywhere."
He is looking for me.
Of course he is. He wouldn't just let me go.
A reward? Like I'm some missing dog on a poster. Just to get me back into his golden cage. He doesn't want me back because he misses me. He wants me back because I embarrassed him. Because he knows if he finds me, the fraud continues.
My mask comes back on and the girl who said no? She is gone forever.
I don't want that."
"I need of a pic of this," Tania pulled out her phone. "I'll put a caption under it. Alina's current future." she laughed to herself.
In a blur, Mikhail reached out with one hand and covered her phone camera, leaning in just enough to make her flinch.
"You are not taking that photo. We are leaving." he turned to me and steered me towards the car.
My voice cracked as soon as I dropped my bags in the truck. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would recognize me."
He looked at me and sighed. "It's not your fault. But we've got to leave. Now."