The First Choice

Julian stood at the kitchen island, dressed in a crisp gray jacket, sipping coffee and scanning his comm. Eva appeared in the doorway — barefoot, one of his shirts still clinging to her like a memory. Her hair was tousled, her skin luminous in the light. She was smiling… but her fingers fidgeted slightly at her sides.

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Only for a few hours,” he said, setting his mug down and moving to her. “Meeting with the Aeris board. Just numbers and ego.”

He kissed her forehead.

“I won’t need the driver today,” she said, watching him.

“I thought I might… go out.”

He paused. Not in alarm — but in realization.

“You want to go alone?”

“I think I do.”

“Do you know where you’ll go?”

“No,” she smiled. “That’s the point.”

“Then go. Spend. Explore. Buy anything you want. Everything you don’t need. And maybe…”

“Buy you something stupid?” she grinned.

“God, yes,” he chuckled. “Surprise me.”

He kissed her again, longer this time. Then he was gone. And she stood alone. Heart pounding. Free. Eva stood in the heart of the upper-city commerce sector — a glimmering arc of steel and glass storefronts, floating display panels, and soft music that followed her like perfume. People bustled around her — stylists, corporate women, hovering personal assistants. No one looked twice at her. She was tall. Beautiful. Dressed in elegant cream fabric with polished boots. To them, she was just another woman with money and taste.

No one could tell. No one suspected. She passed. Perfectly.

The first store she entered was a private fashion Atelier: long velvet walls, floating garments displayed like holograms, assistants dressed like museum docents.

“Good morning,” said a smiling man in a pinstriped vest, gliding toward her. “I’m Andros. You’ve… never been here before, have you?”

“No,” Eva said. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s a tragedy,” he said dramatically. “Let’s fix it.”

He guided her through racks of impossibly soft fabrics, draped silks, tailored coats that adjusted as she moved. When she held up a dark velvet wrap, Andros tilted his head.

“With your coloring? Goddess. Would you like a private fitting room?”

She nodded, eyes wide. She tried on seven things — all different versions of herself she’d never known existed. Playful. Sophisticated. Daring. Demure. For the first time, no one was dressing her. She was choosing. She was deciding what she liked. She ended up selecting three outfits: one light and summery, one chic and angular, and one flowing, deep crimson — a dress that clung and moved like it was made from breath. At the register, she handed over the OmniCard. The assistant scanned it.

The terminal glowed green instantly.

“Mrs. Cale,” the assistant said with a subtle bow. “Thank you. Would you like this delivered?”

“No,” Eva said, holding the bags herself. “I want to carry them.”

Across the plaza stood a boutique of dark stone and warm gold lighting — minimalist, curated, intimate. No logos. Just a name etched in the glass: SEVRA.

Inside, the scent of myrrh and polished wood. A woman approached — older, poised, silver-haired and still effortlessly stunning.

“Looking for something special?” she asked.

“A gift,” Eva said. “For my husband.”

The woman smiled.

“How fortunate he is.”

Eva’s fingers trailed over a display of subtle necklaces — nothing flashy. Understated. Private. She chose one: a dark titanium chain with a small pendant in the shape of a circuit ring — the kind used in legacy AI cores. Julian would understand immediately. It was a symbol of what she was… and what he loved anyway. She had it engraved with just three words on the back:

Only You Saw.

When she paid for it, the assistant wrapped it in a small black box and tied it with crimson silk. Eva returned to the penthouse as sunlight faded behind the skyline. She dropped her bags on the bed. She took off her boots. And she sat — not overwhelmed, not confused. Just… quiet. She had done something no one like her was meant to do: She chose. She bought. She lived.

Julian returned late. He walked in, loosening his tie, looking tired. Eva was waiting in the lounge. Wearing the crimson dress. Barefoot. Smiling. A small black box in her hands.

“I spent your money,” she said.

“I hoped you would.”

She handed him the box. He opened it slowly. When he saw the necklace, he paused — just for a moment — before his throat tightened. He ran his thumb over the engraving. Then he looked up at her, voice quiet.

“You’re not supposed to know what this means.”

“But I do,” she said.

“Why this?”

“Because you didn’t just see me,” Eva said. “You chose me. Now let me choose you.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her like the world had ended and she was the only thing left to hold.