Chapter 12
The next day marked the start of her vacation.
Lorraine slept in till noon. She didn't even bother to get up and wash up right away - instead, she checked the GPS for her car. As expected, it had been taken in for maintenance.
Her plan for today? Just one thing - make herself happy.
She slipped into a pair of high heels she rarely wore and a figure-hugging dress that left no flaws to hide. The cut of the dress traced her curves perfectly. With her already striking face, flawless skin, and that cascade of golden hair, she looked like she walked straight out of a magazine.
She stood in front of the full-length mirror, giving herself a once-over. Standing at 5'5", she wasn't short, and with heels, she was eye to eye with Dylan. She used to avoid wearing them, not wanting to make him feel small next to her. Not anymore. Now, she could wear whatever the hell she wanted.
Lorraine let out a soft chuckle at her reflection, mocking herself for waiting so long to finally do things her way.
Once she was ready, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door - only to spot Tristan's jacket still draped over her couch. Totally forgot to return that.
She hesitated a second, then slipped it onto her arm before stepping outside.
Lorraine got her nails done, turned her straight blonde hair into soft waves, had her makeup professionally done, and went on a shopping spree like there was no tomorrow.
Her last stop was a custom tailoring shop. It was an old, boutique-style place, known for private fittings and long waitlists. Sometimes you had to schedule months - even half a year - in advance.
"Hi, I want to have a shirt custom made," Lorraine said, handing a blazer to the attendant.
"Sure, ma'am. Any specific requirements?" The young woman greeted her with a warm smile.
"This jacket belongs to my boyfriend, but I'm not sure of his shirt size. Can you use this to tailor a shirt for him?"
That was her request. After all, she'd already torn two of his shirts - clearly, it was only right to replace one.
Tristan always wore black, so she figured white would be a nice change. Not that she owed him anything, but still.
The woman carefully took the blazer and gave it a close look, her eyes quickly spotting the initials "ts" stitched into the label.
Not wanting to assume anything, she turned to Lorraine with a polite tone. "I'll need to check with our tailor about this first. Would you mind waiting just a moment?"
"Sure, thanks." Lorraine nodded and took a seat on a nearby sofa, waiting patiently.
The attendant walked the jacket back to the workshop at the rear. There, she brought it to an older man with a white beard, laid it out, and mentioned the customer's request while pointing at the stitched initials.
The old man gave the jacket a brief once-over, then glanced through the glass at Lorraine, adjusting his glasses.
"She said it's for her boyfriend?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Yes, Mr. Seymour," the woman replied, holding in a chuckle.
"Send her in," the man said, glancing toward Lorraine who was curiously looking around.
A staff member walked up to Lorraine, said something softly, and gestured toward the tailor. Lorraine followed the direction with her eyes and saw him looking straight at her.
She gave a small nod in thanks, picked up her purse, and click-clacked toward the courtyard in her heels.
Crossing the yard meant passing through a quiet little path. With her graceful gait, she stepped in.
She had that picture-perfect frame - small and delicate, like a bride waiting in her chamber. She turned heads effortlessly. Even a few others here for fittings couldn't help but steal a look of admiration.
"Hi, sir!" Lorraine greeted the tailor sweetly.
The tailor nodded slightly. "This for your boyfriend?"
Lorraine smiled, the word "boyfriend" just something she threw out casually. "Yes. Is it possible to make a shirt based on just the jacket measurements?"
The old man pressed his lips together, stroking his beard. "Why not bring him? Would've made it easier."
"I don't want him to know I wrecked his shirt. Figured I'd just replace it. I only have his jacket, though."
"You ruined it, huh..." The old man chuckled, amused.
"Can you make it?" she asked.
"Of course. Give me your contact, I'll message you when it's done." He pulled out his phone. They exchanged contacts.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Just call me Lorraine." Clearly, she didn't want to overshare.
"Alright then! Just wait for my message."
Lorraine paused. "You don't need a deposit?"
"Nope." He handed her back the suit jacket.
"Oh..." This was the first time she'd heard no deposit was needed.
"Don't you need to measure anything?" she asked again.
"Nope. Just by looking, I can tell the size. No worries, lady." The old man grinned as his phone started ringing.
Not wanting to interrupt his call, Lorraine nodded politely and slipped away.
Just to be safe, she followed up with a text about the shirt request again, adding a note: [White.]
Lugging her shopping bags, Lorraine didn't get back to her rented place until well past 7 PM.
She finally checked her phone for the first time all day. A flood of flirty messages from Dylan lit up the screen. She left them on read.
At the same time, Samantha had sent her something completely different. An invite to her engagement party next Wednesday.
Tsk. What a scummy pair, perfect for each other.
Lorraine stared at the message, vision blurring just a bit. No. Not gonna cry. Absolutely not.
They cheated right out in the open and now expected her to show up and "celebrate"? How shameless could someone be?
Lorraine: [Congrats. Who's the lucky guy? Never mentioned him before. Seems kinda sudden?]
Lorraine did want to make that woman sick to her stomach, but she didn't respond directly.
Samantha: [You'll see. You know him too.]
Of course she knew. But Dylan was still being a coward, hiding instead of owning up to the truth. Some people are just shameless beyond help.
Lorraine wiped away her tears, casually tapped into the car's camera footage. Sure enough, that scummy couple was sitting in her car!
With a cold chuckle, she turned the phone volume all the way up, dropped it on the kitchen counter, and started making instant noodles.
The arguing didn't stop - Dylan told Samantha to get rid of the baby; she refused.
Dylan admitted they were just, well, hookup buddies, there purely for the fun of it. Lorraine, he said, was the only one he truly loved. That's why he'd never marry Samantha or go to her engagement party.
Lorraine was actually taken aback for a second. Almost made her wonder if his love was real.
She gave a scornful laugh, lost her appetite, and shoved the noodles aside.
Looking around at her rented apartment of a year, she let out a long sigh. Time to move out. She knew Dylan would eventually go through with the engagement. She also knew he wouldn't let her go so easily.
Yeah, he loved her, but it was the kind of love that's cheap and easy to toss. She didn't want to pick a fight, so fine - let them ruin each other.
The next day, Dylan returned the car and headed straight to her apartment. The moment he stepped in, he noticed a men's blazer thrown on the sofa.
"Lorraine, this jacket...?" he asked, placing the car keys on the table. He could tell it was expensive, and Lorraine wasn't exactly the flashy type.
He admired her beauty, her smarts, that irresistible charm she carried without trying.
"As you can see, I'm seeing someone. We're done," Lorraine said bluntly, no hesitation, cutting right to the chase - how she always handled things.
Dylan froze. "Lorraine..."
The words stuck. He wanted to ask about Samantha but couldn't bring himself to go there.
"Anything else? If not, feel free to leave." She didn't even glance at him.
"You found out something, didn't you? That's why you're making up this dumb excuse, just to get back at me! To embarrass me!" Dylan's eyes were red now.
Lorraine kept packing in silence.
Losing control, Dylan grabbed her wrist, trying to stop her.
But the moment she stood up, he noticed her eyes - red and swollen.
"What did I find out?" she shot back, shaking off his hand. "Don't touch me. You're disgusting."
Dylan stood there, stunned. "So you really do know everything?"
"Yep. And I'm letting you go. Letting myself go, too. Let's stop this mess and never see each other again."
Her eyes were empty, lifeless.
They didn't speak for a while.
"Leave," she finally said, heading into her room. She shut the door and curled up on the bed, tears silently sliding down her face.
And just like that, Dylan's world collapsed.
