The Gift
The payment took longer than Gwen expected.
Arthur insisted on standing beside her at the counter, one hand resting lightly against her lower back as the boutique manager carefully folded the dress into layers of protective tissue before slipping it into a satin garment bag.
Gwen watched the process with reverence. The soft whisper of fabric. The delicate smoothing of lace. The quiet finality of it.
This was it.
Her dress.
Arthur leaned closer. "You're smiling again," he murmured.
"I can't help it."
"Good," he said softly. "Don't ever stop."
The card machine beeped. The transaction approved.
A small, ordinary sound.
Yet it felt monumental.
The manager handed the garment bag to Gwen carefully, as though she were transferring something fragile and sacred.
Arthur reached for it instinctively. "I've got it."
Their fingers brushed briefly during the exchange, and she let him take it, watching the way he carried it — carefully, protectively — like it already belonged to their shared future.
Luna stretched dramatically behind them. "If this dress gets more attention than me on the wedding day, I'm starting a riot."
Gwen laughed. "You'll survive."
"I'm not convinced." Luna replied.
They stepped toward the boutique doors.
The bell chimed again as Arthur pushed it open, holding it wide for Gwen to pass through first.
Outside, the air had cooled slightly. The sky was shifting — not dark yet, but softer, clouds gathering lazily overhead. The late afternoon buzz of the city carried on around them: distant car horns, footsteps on pavement, muted conversation.
It felt normal.
Arthur walked her toward her car, the garment bag draped carefully over his arm.
Luna lagged a few steps behind, already checking her phone, exhaustion written across her face.
When they reached the car, Arthur carefully opened the back door and laid the dress across the seat, smoothing the fabric through the protective cover as if afraid it might crease.
Gwen watched him quietly.
"You're very serious about this," she said softly.
"I'm serious about you," he replied, closing the door gently.
The words settled between them. They stood there for a moment, suspended in something quiet and intimate.
"I should get back to work," he said reluctantly, glancing at his watch. "I just… I needed to see you."
Her chest tightened at that.
"I'm glad you came."
"Always."
There was something in the way he said it — steady, certain — that made her believe him completely.
Then he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"I almost forgot."
He pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. Matte black paper. A silver ribbon tied precisely at the center.
Gwen blinked.
"What's that?"
He stepped closer, placing it gently into her hands.
"Just something small," he said. "Open it later."
Her fingers curled around the box, feeling its slight weight. "Arthur…"
"I missed you," he repeated quietly. "And I won't see you tonight. I have meetings that'll run late."
The admission carried a faint note of apology.
She looked down at the gift, then back up at him. "You didn't have to."
"I know."
That made it worse.
Better. More meaningful.
Luna finally approached, rubbing her eyes. "Are we doing emotional speeches now? Because I am not prepared."
Arthur laughed and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Gwen's forehead this time — slower, more lingering than playful.
"Drive safe," he murmured against her skin.
"You too."
He stepped back reluctantly.
For a brief second, neither of them moved. Then he turned, walking toward his car parked across the street. Halfway there, he glanced back at her. She was still standing there. Watching him. He gave her a small smile before getting in and driving off.
Gwen remained still for a moment longer, the box resting against her chest, the garment bag secured in the back seat.
The sky above shifted slightly darker.
Not threatening. Just changing. She exhaled and finally slid into the driver's seat.
TheShadow
The engine hummed to life.
Luna slumped immediately into the passenger seat, kicking off her heels with a relieved groan. "If weddings require this much effort before they even happen, I'm staying single forever."
Gwen smiled faintly, adjusting the rearview mirror. She caught a glimpse of herself — flushed cheeks, softened eyes, a quiet glow that hadn't faded yet.
The garment bag lay stretched carefully across the back seat. The gift box rested on the passenger seat between her and Luna. She glanced at it once before shifting the car into drive.
The city moved around them, early-afternoon traffic steady but manageable. The sky overhead had dimmed slightly, clouds thickening in uneven layers. For a few minutes, everything felt normal.
Then—
A drop struck the windshield.
Gwen barely noticed it.
Another followed.
Then several more, scattered and hesitant.
Luna sighed. "Of course. Because the universe can't let us have one smooth day."
The rain thickened quickly, transforming from scattered droplets into a steady curtain. Within seconds, it was pouring. The sound swallowed the car — sharp, relentless drumming against metal and glass. The wipers moved in frantic arcs, barely keeping the road visible. The world outside blurred into streaks of grey and white.
Gwen tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
"That escalated quickly," Luna muttered, watching the water race down the windows.
The rain didn't feel romantic. It felt heavy. As though something unseen had shifted. Thunder rolled in the distance, low and warning.
Gwen swallowed.
She didn't know why her chest felt tight.
Maybe it was just the storm. Maybe it was nothing. The gift box slid slightly with a sharp turn, tapping against the console. She glanced at it again.
"What do you think he got you?" Luna asked, her exhaustion briefly replaced by curiosity.
"I don't know," Gwen admitted.
She reached out, steadying the box with her hand. It was small but solid. Not light. Not fragile. Her thumb traced the edge of the silver ribbon.
"Open it," Luna urged.
Gwen hesitated.
"He said open it later."
"And this is later."
Another crack of thunder split the sky, closer this time. The car trembled faintly.
Gwen exhaled slowly.
"Maybe when we get home."
Luna leaned her head against the window. "Fine. But if it's something incredibly romantic and you cry without me mentally preparing, I will never forgive you."
Despite everything, Gwen laughed softly.
By the time they pulled into the apartment complex, the rain had turned violent. Water pooled along the pavement. The wind pushed sharply against the car doors when Gwen stepped out.
She grabbed the gift box and the garment bag, shielding them from the downpour as best as she could while Luna hurried ahead toward the entrance.
Cold rain soaked through her blouse within seconds. It felt sudden.
Unwelcome.
Inside, the lobby lights were harsh and sterile compared to the warmth of the boutique earlier.
They made their way up the stairs in damp silence, their wet shoes squeaking against the concrete stairs. When they entered the apartment, everything felt too still.
Luna immediately kicked off her shoes again. "I'm changing and sleeping. If anyone needs me, I don't exist."
Gwen nodded absently.
She placed the garment bag carefully over a dining chair, smoothing it out.
Then she set the gift box on the coffee table.
Hours later, the rain still battered the windows, each drop hammering like impatient fingers against the glass. The room had darkened with the storm's relentless descent. Gwen's eyes kept drifting to the gift box, curiosity gnawing at her.
What had he bought? Jewelry? Something sentimental? Something ridiculous and dramatic? Her fingers hovered over the ribbon. The thunder cracked again, startling her.
She sat down slowly on the couch.
Just as she reached for the knot —
Her phone rang.
The sound cut through the apartment sharply.
Fay?
It had been a while since Fay had called. Gwen almost smiled, thinking it was just her sister checking in, making sure she was holding up. The rain pounded harder against the windows, a rhythmic warning she couldn't ignore. Her stomach dropped as she reached for the phone.
"Hello?" she answered, her voice tentative.