Chapter 226

"I'm having a girls' night with my bestie tonight, so I wanted something cozy," Beatrice lied smoothly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Truthfully, she had drawers full of sleepwear, but she needed an excuse for her sudden return to the boutique.

Amélie, the boutique clerk, didn't question it. "Perfect timing," she said with a warm smile, stepping out from behind the counter. "We just got a fresh shipment of pajamas yesterday."

Lucky me... Beatrice thought bitterly, her gaze lingering on Amélie. The woman was stunning—soft curves, effortless elegance, the kind of beauty that made men weak. This was the woman her fated mate had chosen over her. The realization twisted like a knife in her chest with every heartbeat.

Amélie returned with a delicate silk pajama set, the fabric shimmering under the boutique's soft lighting. Beatrice forced a smile, barely glancing at it. "It's perfect," she murmured, her voice hollow.

"Would you like to try it on?" Amélie offered, holding it up.

"No need," Beatrice said quickly, biting her lower lip. "I'm sure it'll fit."

Amélie chuckled and turned back toward the register. "Alright then."

Beatrice followed, her pulse quickening. "So..." she began casually, leaning against the counter. "How was your date the other night?"

Amélie shrugged, ringing up the pajamas. "It was... fine. He was a gentleman," she admitted. "I thought he might invite me back to his place, but he just dropped me off with a kiss on the cheek."

Beatrice's stomach lurched. His lips on her skin. The image burned behind her eyelids, acidic jealousy rising in her throat. She swallowed hard.

"But lately, he's been... distant," Amélie continued, frowning. "Like something's weighing on him. We've gone out a few times since, but he’s always distracted—staring at his phone, brushing me off when I try to get closer. He hasn’t even kissed me properly. Just... cheeks."

Beatrice arched a brow. "Did you ask who he was talking to?"

Amélie nodded. "He said it was just a friend. But I don’t know if I believe him."

"Oh..." Beatrice feigned sympathy, her fingers tightening around her purse.

Amélie shrugged, unfazed. "Dating’s like that sometimes. It’s not like we’re serious. I’ll survive."

"So... are you going to try to make it work?" Beatrice pressed, digging for her wallet, her hands trembling slightly.

Amélie handed her the bag. "Probably not. If we had a real connection, maybe. But honestly? I think it’s just physical—at least on my end. I wanted him, but he barely touched me." She sighed. "He asked me out again tonight, but I said no. Better to just be friends."

Beatrice nodded stiffly, handing over her credit card. As Amélie processed the payment, she forced another smile, though her chest ached.

When the transaction was done, Amélie handed back the card with a polite smile. "Enjoy your girls' night."

Beatrice took the bag, her grip tight. "Thanks," she murmured, already turning away.

The moment she stepped outside, the weight of the conversation crashed over her. He hadn’t kissed her. He was distracted. Thinking of someone else.

Her.

The thought should have thrilled her. Instead, it only made the knife in her chest twist deeper.