Page 80 of Wisteria and Cloves
I couldn't hide my surprise at Miles's suggestion. Shopping for clothes had always been an ordeal with my mother—hours of her selecting items that met her rigid standards while dismissing anything I showed interest in.
"Really?" I asked, setting down my fork. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Of course not," Miles replied, his green eyes warm. "You should have clothes that make you feel good, not just what was deemed appropriate by your parents. We can get you some other things like books and such as well while we are at it."
Julian nodded, setting aside his papers. "We've been waiting until you felt well enough. Your recovery has been our priority."
"And you've been wearing the same few dresses since you arrived," Christopher added gently. "Not that they don't look lovely on you, but everyone deserves variety."
I smoothed my hands over the simple sundress, suddenly conscious of how limited my wardrobe was. My mother had only allowed certain styles, certain colors—nothing too bright, nothing that might draw attention or suggest improper desires.The few items I owned were chosen for their ability to render me invisible rather than beautiful.
"What if I don't know what I like?" I asked quietly. "I've never been allowed to choose for myself."
"Then we'll help you figure it out," Miles said simply. "We can start with basics—colors you're drawn to, fabrics that feel good against your skin. There's no pressure to make perfect choices right away."
Christopher leaned forward, his gray eyes encouraging. "Think of it like building your nest. You discovered your preferences through experimentation, through touching different materials and seeing what felt right."
The comparison made sense, and I felt some of my anxiety ease. "When would we go?"
"Whenever you feel ready," Julian replied. "Maybe in a day or two, when you're feeling more steady on your feet."
Nicolaus, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. "I think we should plan for Saturday. That gives you two more days to regain your strength, and we can make a proper outing of it."
The idea of a planned outing with all of them sent a flutter of excitement through me. "All of you would come?"
"If you'd like us to," Julian replied, his hazel eyes catching mine with warmth that reminded me of our kiss.
"I would," I admitted, surprised by my own certainty. "I think I'd feel... braver with all of you there."
Christopher's face softened. "Then we'll all be there. And afterward, we could have lunch somewhere nice. Make a day of it."
"A day out," I murmured, testing the concept. "I'd like that."
Miles reached across the table, his fingers briefly touching my hand. "We'll make sure it's perfect for you," he said, his thumb tracing gently across my knuckles before pulling away. The briefcontact sent warmth shooting up my arm, more intense than such a simple touch should have warranted.
I blinked, startled by my body's response. Even that innocent brush of his fingers felt magnified, as if my nerve endings were suddenly more alive than they'd ever been.
"Are you alright?" Nicolaus asked, his analytical gaze noting my reaction.
"I'm fine," I said quickly, then paused. "Actually, that's not quite true. Everything feels... more intense today. Touch, scent, even the taste of this waffle." I gestured to my plate. "Is that normal?"
"Completely normal," Nicolaus confirmed, making a note on his tablet. "Your sensory processing is returning to natural levels. The suppressants you were on muted your sensory responses significantly," Nicolaus explained, his tone softening with understanding. "As they leave your system, you're experiencing the world more fully. It might feel overwhelming at times."
I took another bite of waffle, marveling at the explosion of flavors—the subtle vanilla, the burst of berry sweetness, even the texture of the crisp exterior giving way to a fluffy interior. "It's like seeing in color after a lifetime of black and white."
Christopher beamed at my description. "That's exactly it. Your body is remembering how to fully experience pleasure." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Just wait until you taste chocolate again."
Julian watched me with quiet intensity, his gaze lingering on my face. "Take it slowly," he advised gently. "There's no rush to experience everything at once. Your system needs time to adjust."
I nodded understanding that and not wanting to become overwhelmed by everything around me. I quickly finished eating, Christopher cleaning up the dishes before giving me asmile, “How about we go to the livingroom for now and let you relax out there for a bit.”
"That sounds perfect," I agreed, rising from my chair with care. The short walk from my bedroom to the kitchen had already taxed my recovering strength more than I'd expected.
Julian moved to my side, offering his arm with casual grace. "May I?"
I accepted his support gratefully, hyperaware of the warmth of his skin against mine as we made our way to the living room. Each point of contact seemed to radiate heat, sending pleasant tingles up my arm. The sensation was distracting enough that I nearly stumbled on the threshold.
"Easy," Julian murmured, his grip tightening slightly to steady me. "Small steps."
