Chapter Fifteen
I’m a glutton for punishment, I decide as I pause in the dress shop doorway holding a grocery bag filled with red wine, spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread and Caesar salad from Gino’s Trattoria. In my other hand, I carry a bouquet of white chrysanthemums and blueish hydrangeas. The combination reminded me of Emmaline’s eyes. My pulse thumps erratically. I’ve never attempted to make amends before. I haven’t cared enough to want to. I push open the door, and above me the bell jangles merrily. As I wait, I’m struck by the emptiness. The space is classic and clean - perfect for a dressmaker. But it feels overwhelmingly lonely. There’s no staff, no shopkeeper or extra tailor. And where are her friends? I assume she has them, but to date, I’ve never seen anyone in the shop -
