By the time Jay stepped out of the changing room, dressed again in her usual clothes a long gray coat over her simple dress, her hair now put up in a bun and boutique had grown quieter. The gleam of chandeliers reflected softly on the white marble floors, and the rush of everything the dress fitting, the confrontation, the choice seemed to have receded like the echo of a storm.
Vanellope stood alone near the entrance, next to the glass door framed by velvet curtains. Rain had begun again outside, a soft drizzle that misted the windows, blurring the view of the parking lot. Her hand rested against the glass as she looked out, though her eyes weren't following the cars. She was waiting.
As soon as she heard Jay's footsteps, Vanellope turned and for a heartbeat, the girls just looked at each other. Words hovered between them, uncertain and unsaid.
Jay tilted her head, her voice light but curious. "Vanellope… are you good?"
And just like that, the barrier broke. Vanellope took one stride forward and wrapped her arms around Jay tightly, pressing her cheek to Jay's shoulder with a breath that trembled slightly.
Jay gave a soft, surprised laugh, her eyes widening before she looked over Vanellope's shoulder. Her father stood not far, a warm smile tugging at his lips, the kind of smile that carried both pride and ache.
Neither of the girls moved.
Seconds blurred into a minute. And then into more.
Jay didn't push her away. She simply let her hold her let herself be held. Maybe they both needed that silence, that closeness, that wordless understanding of something neither of them was ready to speak about yet.
Eventually, her father cleared his throat gently. "If you ladies are done stealing hearts in the boutique, we've still got a bit more to the day, you know."
Both girls laughed, but their eyes shimmered with tears.
Vanellope pulled away only slightly, her hand still holding Jay's as they walked out together, the bell above the boutique door chiming softly behind them. Jay's mother was already seated stiffly in the passenger seat of the car, arms crossed, her eyes darting straight ahead, lips sealed like stone.
The air in the car shifted immediately when the girls stepped in. Jay's father opened the rear door for them, and both girls slipped inside, still holding hands, fingers interlaced tightly, as if neither was willing to pull apart just yet.
Jay leaned her head slightly on Vanellope's shoulder as the car merged into the road, gliding between the rush of traffic and streaks of rain on the windows.
The silence returned, but it was the kind that hummed with thoughts, heavy and unsaid.
Then, out of nowhere, Vanellope straightened slightly and said, "Uncle, can you please drop me here?"
Jay looked up, startled. "Here?"
"I can go by myself," Vanellope said, already pulling her bag closer. "I have to head back to the university… for something."
Her voice faltered, and for a brief moment, she glanced at Jay.
Jay's father frowned. "We can take you home. You don't have to…"
"No, really. I've got to run a few errands too," she said.
Her gaze settled on Jay again. This time her fingers gave a light squeeze. Then her other hand reached over and cupped Jay's hand gently. "Take care, okay?"
Jay nodded, but didn't let go.
Vanellope hesitated for a second longer. Then she gave the smallest nod as if promising something silently and stepped out into the drizzle without looking back again.
Jay sat still, watching her walk away until the figure disappeared behind misty glass and crowds.
And even though she was gone, her hand still felt warm.
....
The rest of the drive was quiet. Jay's mother didn't speak, though her stiff posture radiated anger. Her father sighed once, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, but said nothing.
Jay said nothing either. Her eyes watched the outside world blur past, her fingers still tingling from the last touch.
When they reached home, the door opened without welcome. Jay stepped inside first, her boots wet from the street, the silence of the house louder than the rain outside.
But just as she reached the stairs, her mother's voice cut the air like a blade.
"So this is it? You humiliate me in public, you dress like you're mourning your own wedding, and now you bring your loud-mouthed friend into everything too?"
Jay turned around slowly, her eyes unreadable. "It was just a dress."
Her mother stepped forward, furious. "It was a black dress! A disgrace! You made a mockery out of"
"It's a dress I chose," Jay interrupted calmly. "And I liked it. It's the only thing today that felt like me."
"Because you've always been selfish!"
"And you've always been controlling!" Jay's voice finally rose, louder now, sharper than before. "You've planned this whole marriage like a business deal. You never even asked me what I wanted."
"You think you know what's best for yourself?! You think you're ready to make choices?!"
"Better than you choosing a stranger to hand me over to!" Jay cried.
Her mother raised her hand.
Jay didn't flinch this time.
But before anything could happen, her father stepped between them.
"Enough!" His voice boomed across the room. "That's enough for today."
He looked at his wife, his eyes filled with disappointment, and held her gently but firmly by the arms. "Go upstairs. Cool off. Now."
His wife glared at him, chest heaving, but finally turned and stormed off, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
Jay stood frozen.
Her father turned to her now. His voice was softer again. "Go to your room, sweetheart."
She nodded wordlessly and climbed the stairs.
…..
It was much later that night when a gentle knock tapped against her bedroom door.
Jay had curled into herself on her bed, blanket tossed aside, her arms around her knees, the room dark except for a small lamp near the bookshelf.
Her father came in with a tray food, warm honey milk, and sweet bread.
He placed it on the bedside table and sat down beside her, rubbing his hands together for warmth before resting one gently on her shoulder.
"I want you to know something," he said. "You don't have to get married. I mean it. Not for us. Not because of this morning. Not because your mother is acting out. Not because you're trying to make us happy."
Jay didn't look at him, but her breathing deepened.
He continued. "I know you're a good child. You'd walk through fire if you thought it would keep this family standing. But I don't want you to burn for us, Jay. That's not love. That's sacrifice and not every sacrifice is noble."
His hand moved to gently smooth her hair. "Yes, I was angry at your mother. Still am. But she's not trying to hurt you. She's just… she just don't know how to take care of a girl almost her age now." he chuckled as he brush her nose. " She thinks she's protecting you, but she's only pushing you away." He continued.
Jay swallowed hard.
"We want you to marry when you want to. When it's right. And if you want more time, I'll buy it for you. If you want to leave, I'll stand by you."
Jay finally turned to him, eyes filled with something old and heavy and soft all at once.
"I want to do it, Dad," she whispered. "I mean it. Let me do it. Now… now I want to know who I'm doing it with. Who's this person who even approached you for me? I need to see him. I have questions. And if I have to do it later… why not just do it now?"
Her father didn't respond right away.
He simply placed his hand on her head, brushed her hair gently, and then kissed the crown of it.
And with a quiet, tired smile, he stood and left the room, closing the door behind him gently, as if to preserve the fragile peace she had chosen.
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