02

                                    

                                          
Isabella
The irritating ring of my phone jolts me away.
I sigh at the ceiling before reaching between the cracks of the couch to fish it out. It must've fell there after I'd been ordered to sleep here for the night by my civil partner who, judging by dead silence but for the rings, is snoring away in a peaceful slumber. He's likely dreaming about schemes to get my body back in his hold.
"Hello?" I press the phone to my ear and sluggishly head to the bedroom. My back needs a good crack after enduring the rigid pressure it was rested on the whole night. Next time, Jasper can get out of the bed.
"Hey, lovely. Do you want to come over to the store? We've got those unbelievably good-looking shirts in stock." I'd almost forgotten I was expecting a call from that smug and unbelievably gorgeous employee. His enthusiasm has sprouted today, evident by the cheerfulness of his voice, and I consider responding with 'no' just to irk him.
It's infuriating that I'm just a forgotten face. Not even a speck of his memory. I want to bring the thought up to him, whine that behind that gorgeous face of his is an absent mind that couldn't even recollect the way he had me dash into his car and jump onto his lap. 
But...he's so alluring, and an unstable part of me begs to see him again despite having had refused to return to the store for months after our encounter. When I entered the mall and had knocked into a chest, the last person I expected to see was the guy who I'd avoided for so long. There's no turning away from my decision to go to the mall now anyway.
"Sure. I'll be there soon."
"Great. And considering I went to extreme efforts to guarantee we have them in all for you, then maybe you can gift me with a coffee for repayment?"
I shove a sigh back down my throat and try to sound as lively as can be. "Of course."
"Thank you, beautiful. Don't take too long. Since the shirts are so extraordinary, people will be stumbling into the store just to get their hands on them. The last time I'd set them down onto the front table, everyone came―"
"Got it. Bye." I end the call and force myself to barge into the bedroom. Just so I don't end up hesitating and wasting time standing at the door.  "Get up, sleepy head."
My attention is entirely away from Jasper as I open the wardrobe and dig through the mess in the bottom drawer. I pick out a crop top that's tiered, then get up to sling denim jeans over my shoulder. By the time I shower, arrange my hair into tidy, unbound waves, and get dressed, Jasper is still asleep and in a knot with the blankets.
I tap him on the shoulder. "Up. What are you doing?" 
"Fuck, man." He groans and twists the opposite way. "What do you want?"
"It's 11:00am." 
"Shit. I'm meant to go see a mate." He shoots up and scans my attire with apparent judgement. "Why are you so dressed?"
"I'm finding your shirt. And you're taking me to the shops." 
He pushes past me. "Don't take your time."
⚘
I sped to the store. Coffee in hand.
Fifty-percent-off sales lure people into the left side where purses and bags made of soft fabrics are presented and elegant pieces of clothing hang over near-completely translucent chiffon robes, off-shouldered dresses with floral embroidery, slacks made of glossy leather, flowy skirts cut just above the ankle, and coats with diamond stitching. I'd sort through it all if my attention didn't land on a rack of bodycon dresses.