Saturday arrived with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Louise stood in the center of L’Etoile, the city’s most expensive boutique, holding a hanger that suspended a dress made of crimson silk and pure audacity.
In her previous life—the life where she died on a dirty floor—Louise would have checked the price tag, gasped, and immediately put it back, opting for the beige cardigan on the clearance rack. She had spent seven years shrinking herself to fit into David’s budget, David’s ego, and David’s life.
Not today.
Today, she was expanding.
"Do you like it, babe?" David asked, glancing up from his phone. He was sitting on the plush leather husband bench, looking bored and slightly agitated, already stressed by the store's price tags. "It looks... red. Very red. Isn't it a bit much for din
