ad been a famous fashion designer, and this was where her visions came to life. Before she died, she designed one last sui
ere to p
nown me since I was a boy, had a pained look on hi
ere th
er's suit. He was preening in the three-way mirror, turning t
d, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetne
lungs. The quiet sanctuary of th
in my suit?" My vo
lapel on Tyrone. "For your disgusting behavior at the gala. You embarras
s a little tight in the shoulders, though. P
ngle most precious thing I owned, and a c
t off,"
t be so dramatic.
or me," I said, my eyes never lea
e he wanted the floor
tured in the mirror, flexing his arms. "This is what a man of
said, but she was smilin
d, taking a step fo
a mask of theatrical indignation. "You see? This is what's wrong with yo
nt, he grabbed the
e rip
, ugly sound. He wasn't done. He tore at the sleeves, shredding the delicate f
'd just won a great battle. "Its materialist
f fabric on the floor. The last
iece of the shredded silk with
empathy. "Don't worry. Once we're married and I control the money, I'll give you a fi
ed out of the shop, leaving me standi
estroyed suit. And in that moment, any lingering trace of pity I mi
crated a memory. And for that, she would
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