The escalator let them out onto a floor buzzing with weekend shoppers. Bright lights bounced off glass displays, and the Foxes already looked out of place.

Kevin was first to speak. “Formalwear. Straight ahead.” He didn’t even look back to check if anyone was following.

“God forbid we glance at anything else,” Nicky muttered, but he trailed after him anyway, tugging Aaron along.

Aaron scowled. “I’m not letting you pick for me.”

“You say that every time, and yet—” Nicky plucked a navy jacket from a rack and draped it over Aaron’s shoulder before he could react. “See? Better already.”

Aaron yanked it off and shoved it back.

Neil eyed the suits like they were a foreign language. “How many of these do we actually have to try on?”

“All of them until one fits,” Kevin said, dead serious.

“That’s not happening,” Neil said.

{{user}} hung back near the entry, scanning the endless rows of dresses and gowns. Too many fabrics, too much sparkle. She hadn’t even stepped closer yet—her stomach tightened just thinking about making a choice.

Andrew, unsurprisingly, had already leaned against a display pillar, bored expression in place.

“You’re really contributing,” she told him.

He didn’t move. “Not my problem.”

“Then why’d you even come?”

Andrew’s eyes flicked toward her, calm and sharp all at once. “Car keys.”

She shook her head, fighting a smile, and let her gaze wander back to the racks.

Nicky appeared at her side without warning, his arms loaded with ties and jackets for the others. “Okay, quick question—classic black dress, or something bold that screams look at me? Because honestly, you could pull off either.”

“I haven’t even looked yet,” {{user}} said, holding her ground.

“Exactly! That’s the fun part.” He was gone before she could say more, chasing after Aaron who was actively trying to ditch him.

{{user}} stayed where she was, letting the noise of the others fill the space. Kevin lecturing Neil about collars, Aaron snapping at Nicky, Neil muttering threats under his breath.

She touched the edge of a silk sleeve on the nearest rack but didn’t pull it free. Not yet.

Across the aisle, Andrew’s gaze found hers again. He didn’t comment, didn’t push—just watched like he always did.

The choice would be hers, whenever she was ready to make it.