Matthew
I grin secretly as I notice how pissed Sarah looks right now. The fact that I bought a necklace for Amanda bothered her a lot.
Good.
I turn to the elderly lady and point at a delicate decorative hairpin. "Can I see that?" I ask.
The vendor nods and carefully picks up the hairpin, placing it in my palm. It's silver, shaped like a vine, with small, pearl-like beads woven into the design. Simple but elegant.
I turn it between my fingers, feeling the weight of Sarah's glare on me. I can almost hear her thoughts—Who's that for?—but she keeps her mouth shut. She's trying so hard not to ask, and I enjoy watching her struggle with it.
"You have good taste, young man," the lady says with a smile. "This one is very special."
I smirk. "Really?"
I don't need to look at Sarah to know she's fuming. The necklace already got under her skin, and now this? She probably wants to rip the hairpin from my hands just to prove a point.
I glance over at her. She's pretending to look at something on another table, but her fingers are curled into fists at her sides.
Yeah. She is pissed.
"Would this work for someone with really long hair?" I ask.
"Of course," she says. "In fact, it's useless with short hair. It will slide right off the girl's head." she chuckles.
I take my time inspecting the hairpin before finally handing over the cash. The vendor wraps it up neatly, and I tuck it into my pocket. Sarah still hasn't said a word, but the tension is thick between us.
We start walking again, and after a few steps, she finally breaks.
"Another gift for Amanda? I thought you wanted to get something for Hailey?" Her voice is casual—too casual.
I shrug. "Who said I bought it for Amanda?"
She looked me in the eyes. "This pin won't work on Hailey's hair. Her hair is too short. So who else would it be for but Amanda?"
I don't say anything and keep walking.
Sarah steps in front of me, blocking my path. "Matthew." Her voice is sharp now, laced with frustration.
I raise an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Her arms cross tightly over her chest. "Who is it for?"
"Who do you think it's for?" I counter.
"For Amanda, I guess," Sarah says.
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Now get out of the way," I say.
She doesn't move. Instead, she tilts her head, narrowing her eyes at me. "You're messing with me."
I smirk. "Am I?"
Sarah huffs. "You are. You are doing this to torture me."
I let out a bitter laugh. "You really want to know?" I ask.
Sarah crosses her arms. "Yes."
I lean in slightly, watching the way her breath catches for just a second before I say, "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."
Her lips part in shock. Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are flushed pink.
She looks quite pretty like this. The thought involuntarily creeps into my mind.
I push the thought away just as quickly as it comes, but it lingers in the back of my mind, stubborn and persistent.
Sarah recovers fast, though, narrowing her eyes as she scoffs. "You know what? I don't care," she announces, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Buy whatever you want for whoever you want. It's not like it matters to me."
"Right," I say, amused. "That's why you're still talking about it?"
She clenches her jaw, then turns sharply on her heel. "Forget it. I'm done with this conversation."
"Good. Let's go to that store over there. I still need to buy a gift for Hailey," I say, pointing at a t-shirt stall.
Sarah mutters something under her breath, but she follows me anyway, her arms still crossed in a huff. I can tell she's trying to act like she doesn't care, but the way she keeps stealing glances at me says otherwise.
As we approach the stall, I sift through the different designs, picking up a navy blue t-shirt. "What do you think?" I ask, holding it up for Sarah to see.
She barely glances at it. "It's nice," she says, her voice grudging. "Hailey will like it."
Satisfied, I hand the vendor some money and take the neatly folded shirt. Sarah watches me as I tuck it into my bag, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're still thinking about the hairpin, aren't you?" I say.
Her head snaps up. "No."
I bite back a laugh. This is the Sarah I know—spoiled, entitled, and pouting when things don't go her way. Not the quiet, defeated version of her I created the day I married her.
~-~
Later in the evening, I lean back against the headboard and watch her get ready for dinner tonight.
The resort has a special feast planned for the guests that are staying tonight, so I made a reservation for two since we are leaving in the morning.
I watch as Sarah adjusts her dress with careful precision. It's a white chiffon gown that reaches the floor, almost like a wedding dress but more casual and understated for a dinner like tonight. The fabric drapes over her frame effortlessly, the soft material catching the light with each movement.
She looks lovely, I secretly admit to myself. No matter how much I hate her, I can't seem to stop acknowledging the fact that sometimes, she is beautiful.
I try to pull my eyes away, but it's like I'm stuck, watching her every move.
With a quick tug, she pulls her hair back, gathering it into a neat knot atop her head. Her fingers move with practiced ease as she secures the style, pinning the strands in place with care. She lets a few strands of hair fall loosely, framing her face in soft waves.
For a brief moment, I am captivated by the scene. And it pisses me off that she has this effect on me. I clear my throat. "Are you almost done? We will be late," I say with a tight jaw.
"Y-yeah…I am done," she says hurriedly.
I stand up and walk toward her until I am only a foot away.
"Do I look okay?" she asks.
I don't bother responding. I quietly take the hairpin from my pocket and gently slide it into her hair.
She stares at me wide-eyed, her mouth slightly parted in shock. Her fingers hover near the pin as if she's unsure whether to touch it or not. She looks at me, still processing what just happened. "This… this is for me?" she asks, her voice soft.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. Just thought I'd give you a belated wedding present," I say, then quickly add: "Even though you don't deserve it."
She smiles. "Thank you," she says quietly, reaching up to touch the pin as if to make sure it's real.
I don't respond. I just turn toward the door and walk out, not looking back.
We arrive at the dining hall for the feast, and I can already see people mingling, laughing, and enjoying the atmosphere. It's beautiful here, the long tables decorated with candles and flowers, everything so damn perfect.
After everyone is nearly done eating, the sound of music catches my ear, and I glance toward the dance floor, where some couples start to dance, lost in the moment.
I feel a knot tighten in my chest as I watch them. If I met Sarah in another life, maybe we would've…
"Matthew."
I look at her. "What?"
"Will you dance with me?" she asks as she stares at me with those big green eyes.