MAVERICK'S POV
"Should we take your car or mine?" she asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
I shrugged. "Let's take yours."
I reached for the door, then paused. "Hey… mind if we stop by the mall on the way?"
She blinked. "Why?"
"You're going to the company for the first time," I said casually. "Thought maybe we could just touch up the look a bit. You already look great, but a little something extra never hurts, right?"
She hesitated, glancing down at her outfit like she hadn't even thought to evaluate it. Then she gave a small nod. "Yeah. Maybe."
Her voice was soft—uncertain. Like she wasn't used to thinking of herself as someone worth dressing up.
That alone made the stop worth it.
"Alright, I'll drive. Where are the keys?" I asked.
She shifted her bag. "Sorry—I put them in here."
"You don't have to apologize for that," I said gently. "It's your car."
A flicker of a smile. "Okay. Let's go."
---
The mall was noisy, alive. Liz stayed close, quiet but alert. I led us to a boutique that didn't scream wealth but whispered confidence—clean designs, soft lighting, clothes that didn't beg for attention but owned it anyway.
She drifted toward a rack of tops, her fingers brushing over a pale cream blouse. I moved through a few displays, selecting pieces I knew she'd never pick for herself—but needed to see.
"This?" I held up a powder-blue blouse. "Looks like strength disguised as softness."
She looked at it, then at herself in the mirror. "It's really nice. Do you think it's too much?"
"No," I said quietly. "I think it's just enough."
She chose a soft grey skirt to match. I tucked in a few extras on the side with the assistant: a black pleated dress, a structured top, elegant flats. Things for her future self—the one that would walk into a boardroom like she owned it.
At checkout, she reached for her wallet. I stopped her.
"Mav—"
"Call it a gift," I said. "For Whisparé. For you."
She frowned. "But I didn't even pick those."
"I know. They're not for today. They're for the version of you that's still forming. The one who deserves to be seen."
She blinked. Lips parted. But she said nothing.
Just nodded.
*-*-*-*-*-
She changed into the new outfit in one of the mall's fitting lounges — the soft-blue blouse and grey pants combo. When she walked out, I blinked.
"You look like you belong behind a desk giving instructions," I said.
She smiled, fixing the collar. "Let's hope I don't get nervous."
"You won't. You only do that when you're trying to impress someone."
She glanced at me sharply — something unreadable in her eyes — then looked away.
That was new.
But I didn't press.
I just opened the passenger door for her.
We drove off, her proposal in her bag, a quiet fire building in her chest, and something unnamed still flickering behind her eyes.
---
ELIZABETH'S POV
The car hummed beneath us, sunlight filtering through the windows. Shopping bags rustled at my feet.
Maverick drove in silence, letting me sit with the moment. He always did.
I stared out the window, trying to piece together the strange stillness inside me. Not emptiness. Just… pause. Like my life had hit a comma and was waiting to see how the sentence ended.
My gaze drifted to one of the bags. One of the tops he picked out. Something pale and soft and elegant.
I hadn't asked for it. But it felt right.
Maybe this was what healing looked like. Quiet. Ordinary. Shared.
A thought surfaced, sudden and sharp.
Aunty Mara.
My breath caught.
I hadn't spoken to her since I got back. Not even once. Not since before the accident.
She didn't even know.
Not about the fall. Not about the fog in my head. Not about how most mornings felt like trying to climb out of a well.
She must think I'm avoiding her.
I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over her name.
I hadn't been angry. Just tired. And quiet.
Too quiet.
"Everything okay?" Maverick asked, eyes still on the road.
"I haven't called my aunt. Not since… everything."
He didn't ask what "everything" meant. He just nodded. "You still can."
I hit Call.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
"Hello? Elizabeth?"
Her voice lit up like morning.
I swallowed. "Hi, Aunty. I'm sorry I haven't called. I've just been… I don't know."
"You don't have to explain," she said quickly. "I'm just glad to hear your voice. Are you okay?"
I looked at Maverick.
And then at the bag at my feet.
"I think I'm getting there."
She laughed softly—relieved. "That's enough for me. Just don't stay away too long again, alright?"
"I won't."
"Good. I love you."
"Love you too. And I'd call you later today, okay?"
" Okay my love. Bye"
" Bye"
I ended the call and tucked the phone away.
Maverick didn't ask what she said. He just reached over and squeezed my hand.
And in that stillness,