Chapter 21

"E-wait... where are we going? What does this have to do with my question?"

"A lot. I can't stand your beggar behavior any longer." He opened the car door and, seeing my hesitation, he impatiently pushed me inside.

"I don't think this is a good idea..." I said nervously, worried about dirtying something with my shoes or just my dirt-covered clothes. I hadn't even been able to change.

"Take us to Emoushion."

"As you wish, Mr. Cesar," the driver responded, and without further ado, we were on our way.

"Is Emoushion a bakery for dinner?"

"You'll see..." That curt response only stirred a sea of fears and doubts within me. I didn't want to make a mistake and feel foolish. Wherever we were going, I didn’t fit in with such elegance.

The car parked in front of a beautiful boutique with a glass display illuminating everything inside. The clothes screamed expensive from every angle. Mr. Cesar got out, and without saying a word, I followed him, surprised at the place.

"E-excuse me, Mr. Cesar... did we really come here for what I think we came for?"—to change my clothes! He turned towards me, loosening his tie a bit, his expression serious.

"Don't ask the obvious." A woman with an angelic smile approached us and said.

"Welcome, Mr. Cesar. Shall we start with the catalog of garments? What would you like today?"

"Nothing for me, thanks. Just bring clothes for this woman." They finally looked at me as if they couldn't believe I was with him, and with annoyance, he added.

"Instead of just standing there thinking, you could start choosing clothes. Even here, your clothes look more disastrous," he said loudly enough that the sales assistants looked at me again. I quickly lowered my gaze in embarrassment. Why did he put me through this? Did he think he could humiliate me because he had money? Was it because of what I had said about my dignity, that he could take it away with a few bills? Be strong, Belle... don't let him treat you like this.

"Listen, I'm not your little clown—" Before I could finish, a girl took my hand, and another one who appeared out of nowhere pushed me from behind.

"This way, miss."

"But, I... I don't need... it's just that I..."

"Yes, yes, yes, just follow us, miss,"—but why wouldn't they listen to me? I sighed heavily as they led me away.

♥

I sat in a small waiting area with elegant chairs and a small platform in front. I tried to wait calmly, but impatience was starting to unsettle me. I didn't know if anger was driving me to do all this, but I felt restless... I needed to show him why he was so annoyed, to make him see it with his own eyes. The sales assistant entered with a cart and smiled.

"Mr. Montenegro, what would you like to drink while you wait? Today, we have some Colombian coffee beans directly imported, or English tea from the best brand," she said, arranging the tea set with a steaming teapot.

"Coffee is fine."

"By the way, Mr. Montenegro, we have a new clothing catalog that caters to your tastes. Would you like to see it?"

"Not today. I just want to see the clothes for the lady."

"As you wish. We'll bring them right away."

♥

"I-I can dress myself...."

"Yes, miss, we know that, but we want to help so there's no dissatisfaction."

"It's just... these clothes aren't for me. I don't think they'll fit."

"Miss, please stay still."

"But it's just... no..." I said, moving uncomfortably. I stumbled backward, falling to the ground like a wooden log. The curtains opened abruptly while I groaned, rubbing my sore backside.

"Miss!" the girl exclaimed, looking at me with annoyance. I heard footsteps, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Mr. Cesar's serious expression from above.

"What are you doing?"

"It's just that..." He extended his hand, and slowly, I placed mine in his so he could gently lift me up. I walked towards him with difficulty and whispered so the kind sales assistants wouldn't hear.

"Mr. Cesar... I appreciate your intentions, but... I think this place isn't for me. You know I've never been to a place of this category." I looked at him, and he remained silent, observing me intently. Why was he ignoring me?

"Mr. Cesar...?" He stopped observing me and this time looked into my eyes and said, turning back to his seat.

"Try on something else, or you'll make me waste more valuable time. I have a meeting soon." Tense, I ran to the changing room as best I could... I didn't want to be the reason he missed a meeting.

As much as possible, I changed into about ten dresses, pants, skirts, button-up shirts, and all sorts of shoes. Each of these garments was scrutinized by his eyes. They were just clothes being displayed, but for some reason, I felt embarrassed meeting his scrutinizing gray-blue eyes. When we finally finished after two whole hours, I sat on the floor of the changing room, rubbing my feet. None of these clothes were comfortable; why would anyone even use them? I wouldn't deny it, everything was beautiful... but none of it suited me. I stood up, still wearing one of the last outfits, a pretty white dress with fringes everywhere that exposed my shoulders. I looked up at the mirror and, uncomfortably, looked away. Overwhelmed, I saw Mr. Cesar reflected in the giant mirror behind me.

"What are you doing...?"

"Do you understand now?" he asked, walking towards me.

"What?"

"Why you infuriate me in unexpected ways." When he was just a few centimeters behind me, he said beside me.

"Why don't you have any self-respect? You're a woman lacking pride. Not even when my horse hit you did you think of yourself. You didn't even ask for compensation for the pain it caused you."

"I didn't want to lose my job by talking to you that way."

"Lose your job...? You didn't care about your well-being at all. You didn't even defend yourself. You talk a lot about dignity, but you can't even bear to look at yourself in the mirror or wear a piece of clothing without pretending you don't deserve it. I see it in your face... like in the hospital." He lifted his hand, placing his fingers under my chin, gently lifting it, forcing me to look in the mirror.

"Now you see... I can't stand that face and your attitude, as if you don't deserve more than what you have."

"You don't know me!" I pushed his hand away and ran out of the fitting room.