Chapter 22 #2
The boutique was called Juniper & Sage, a name that immediately made me think of my garden and helped ease some of my anxiety. The storefront was painted a soft sage green with a juniper wreath hanging on the door, and through the window, I could see racks of clothes in muted, natural colors.
"It's owned by Sarah Crane—Mrs. Crane's daughter," Viola explained as we approached. "She specializes in comfortable, practical clothes that still look put-together. Nothing too trendy, nothing uncomfortable. Perfect for someone who values function but wants a little style."
Inside, the boutique was even more appealing than the outside suggested.
The space was organized but not overwhelming, with clothes sorted by color and style in a way that made sense to my garden-trained eye.
Everything had an earthy, natural aesthetic—linen and cotton in shades of cream, sage, rust, and deep forest green.
"Viola!" A woman emerged from the back, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun, wearing a rust-colored dress that looked both elegant and comfortable. "I got your text. You must be Daphne—I've seen you at the market. Your herbs are incredible."
"Thank you," I managed, slightly overwhelmed by the warmth in her greeting. I blinked when a smell of Alpha and cinnamon came through. She was an Alpha. I hadn’t interacted with many female Alphas. Blinking, I watched Viola grin at her.
"We need to find her something perfect for tonight," Viola told me, diving straight in to telling her what we were looking for.
"Dinner date with four Alphas. Needs to be comfortable enough that she doesn't feel like she's playing dress-up, but nice enough that she feels confident and put-together. "
Sarah's eyes lit up with understanding, a sharp grin on her painted lips. "I have just the thing. What's your usual style, Daphne?"
"Um..." I looked down at my jeans and sweater. "This?"
"Practical and comfortable," Sarah translated with a smile as she glanced around her store before looking back at me, "Got it. What colors do you gravitate toward?"
I thought about my closet at home—lots of blues and greens, earth tones that reminded me of growing things. "Natural colors, I guess. Nothing too bright."
"Perfect. I know exactly what to show you." Sarah moved to a rack near the back and started pulling items. "Viola, grab those dark jeans from the front table—the ones that actually fit properly. And the cognac belt."
For the next thirty minutes, I found myself in a fitting room trying on combinations I never would have chosen for myself. Sarah had an eye for what would work—pieces that were elevated enough to be special but comfortable enough that I didn't feel like a stranger in my own skin.
"Try this one," Viola said, passing another outfit over the door.
I slipped into dark jeans that fit better than any I'd ever owned, soft and stretchy but structured enough to look intentional.
The top was a sage green color with the same colored lace.
It was made with some kind of fabric that felt like wearing a cloud—soft and draping without being clingy.
Simple, comfortable, but somehow more pulled-together than anything I'd worn in years.
I stepped out of the fitting room, and Viola's face broke into a huge smile. "That's it. That's the one."
"Really?" I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. I looked... nice. Not trying too hard, not uncomfortable, just... nice.
"Really," Sarah confirmed, handing me a cognac leather belt. "Try this with it." I threaded the belt through the loops, and the whole outfit came together in a way that made me feel put-together without feeling like I was wearing a costume.
"You look beautiful," Viola told me while smiling softly. "And you look good..and not like you are uncomfortable in the outfit.”
"I feel like myself," I admitted, surprising myself with the truth of it. "Just... a more put together version."
"That's what good clothes should do," Sarah said with satisfaction. "Now, shoes. What do you normally wear?"
"Boots," I said immediately, I didn’t want to wear heels of any kind and books where the more comfortable shoe I have found I liked…or barefoot. I didn’t think that would be appropriate though. "Work boots or hiking boots. That's pretty much it."
"We can work with boots." Sarah disappeared into the back and returned with a pair of brown leather ankle boots that had a slight heel but looked comfortable. "These are like fancy hiking boots. Supportive, comfortable, but dressed up enough for tonight."
I tried them on, expecting them to pinch or rub, but they felt like butter-soft leather hugging my feet. I walked around the boutique, testing them, and found I could actually move normally instead of hobbling like I did in the one pair of "nice" shoes I owned.
"These are perfect," I said, unable to hide my surprise on my face as I shifted my feet to see if anything would hurt or pinch…and they didn’t.
"We'll take all of it," Viola announced, pulling out her wallet before I could protest.
"Viola, no—I can pay for my own—" I told her as I looked at her with wide eyes. I didn’t come shopping for her to buy me things.
"You can pay me back by actually going to this dinner and not running away," Viola interrupted, a knowing look on her face as I could feel the heat on my cheeks. "Consider it my investment in your happiness. Now stop arguing and let me do this."
I opened my mouth to protest again, then closed it. This was friendship, I realized. This was what it looked like when someone cared about you without expecting anything in return—they wanted to help, to support, to see you succeed.
"Thank you," I whispered, my throat tight with emotion I wasn't used to expressing. "This is... thank you."
"You're welcome." Viola hugged me quickly, making me take a deep breath as I almost melted in her arms. She gave me a grin as she pulled back. "Now let's get you home so you can relax for a bit before tonight. You need to not spend the next six hours spiraling in anxiety."
Sarah rang up the purchases while I changed back into my regular clothes, carefully folding the new outfit. The total made me wince—it was more than I'd spent on clothes in the past two years combined—but Viola didn't even blink as she handed over her card.
"Thank you for coming in," Sarah chirped as she handed over the bag with my purchases.
"And Daphne? You're going to do great tonight.
Anyone can see those boys are already half in love with you from how people are talking about it around town.
Just be yourself—that's clearly what they're interested in. "
The words should have made me more nervous, but instead, they settled something in my chest. Be myself. Not some idealized version, not who I thought they wanted me to be. Just... me.
We stepped back out onto Main Street, the midday sun warm on our faces. I clutched the boutique bag like a lifeline, still processing the fact that I now owned "date clothes" and was actually planning to wear them tonight.
"Want to grab lunch?" Viola asked as she looked over to me. She had a hand on her stomach as I heard a low growl which made me laugh. "There's a sandwich shop—"
"Daphne." The voice cut through our conversation like ice water, sharp and cold and immediately recognizable. I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach.
Trinity stood a few feet away, dressed impeccably as always—designer jeans, a silk blouse, heels that had no business being on Main Street's uneven sidewalk. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves, her makeup flawless, her expression a carefully crafted mask of false sweetness.
"Trinity," I said, keeping my voice neutral even as my heart rate spiked. Viola's hand found my arm, a silent show of support.
"I didn't expect to see you in town," Trinity grinned, her eyes traveling over me in a way that felt like an assessment. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know, tending your garden? That's what you do, right? Hide away and play in the dirt?"
"I'm shopping," I snapped back, instinctively moving the boutique bag slightly behind me. I didn't want her to see it, didn't want her to guess why I might need new clothes.
"Shopping." Trinity's smile didn't reach her eyes. "How domestic. Though I have to say, I'm surprised you're showing your face in town after that embarrassing scene at the market. Most people would have the decency to lay low for a while."
"The scene you created," Viola interjected, her voice sharp with barely contained anger. "By harassing Daphne in front of everyone."
Trinity's gaze slid to Viola, dismissive and cold. "I don't believe I was talking to you."
"Well, I'm talking to you," Viola shot back, stepping slightly in front of me. "And I'm telling you to back off. Whatever your problem is with Daphne, deal with it somewhere else."
"My problem?" Trinity laughed, the sound brittle and false as her cold eyes locked on me with disgust clear in them and lip curling up.
"I don't have a problem with Daphne. I'm simply concerned.
You see, she seems to be under the impression that Oliver and his pack are interested in her.
And I think someone should let her know that's... unlikely. "
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to speak. "That's not your concern."
"Oh, but it is." Trinity took a step closer, and I could smell her perfume—heavy, cloying, nothing like the natural scents I surrounded myself with.
"You see, I've known Oliver for years. I know what he wants, what his pack wants.
And trust me, they don't want some antisocial little omega who plays in gardens and can barely string a conversation together. "
Each word was designed to hit its mark, to confirm every fear I'd been harboring. That I wasn't good enough, wasn't interesting enough, wasn't worth their time.