Balfour pointed at the side of Giselle’s face, but didn’t mean to wipe her clean.
With a sigh of resignation, Giselle decided to leave him alone in the bedroom while she retreated to the
bathroom to freshen up.
“Just wait here a sec, I’m gonna brew us some coffee,” she said..
Balfour nodded in agreement.
It wasn’t until Giselle left the room that Balfour began to move. He had already scoped out where she’d
be most likely to hide that particular piece of clothing-the closet was his prime suspect.
Time was of the essence, so he went straight for it.
In addition to the closet, Giselle had an entire room serving as her walk-in wardrobe.
Meanwhile, Giselle checked her makeup in the mirror, puzzled by the absence of any marks. She
touched up her contouring, assuming that men like Balfour probably mistook it for a smudge of dirt.
She reapplied her lipstick, determined to win Balfour.
Her expression was one of unyielding intent.
As the coffee machine hummed in the background, Balfour stepped into the walk-in wardrobe.
It was a lavish space, filled with Giselle’s personal collection and designer pieces sent by various
brands.
Whether by haste or oversight, the outfit identical to Ivy’s was crumpled in a corner.
Balfour spotted the matching outfit immediately.
Unaware of Balfour’s actions, Giselle indulged in selecting the most expensive coffee beans-only the
finest for a man like Balfour.
It was their first official evening together, and everything had to be perfect.
The thought flushed her cheeks with a shy blush.
They had known each other since childhood, and despite everything that had transpired, Balfour was
finally within her grasp!
In her mind, Ivy was nothing more than an afterthought to Balfour, not worth the worry.
What was Ivy doing now? Would she still be smiling if she knew Balfour was with her?
With that thought, Giselle carried two freshly brewed cups of coffee back to her room.
“Balfour, the coffee’s ready. Just the way you like it-no sugar cubes,” she said with a smile.
But her smile faded as she entered the room to find Balfour gone.
“Balfour? Where are you? The coffee’s ready.”
She set down the cups and circled the room, but there was no sign of Balfour.
Bathroom, walk-in wardrobe-she checked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Balfour? Where are you?”
Gone?
Why?
In frustration, Giselle downed her cup of coffee. She had been left hanging, her anticipation unfulfilled
as Balfour had seemingly bolted without warning.
What could be so urgent to make him leave at a moment like this?
“Beep… beep… beep…”
Giselle dialed Balfour’s number, but there was no answer.
Balfour was already on his way home, the passenger seat bearing the outfit that was a twin to Ivy’s.
Only as he started the engine did Balfour’s face betray his eagerness to get home. He had kept his
plans from Ivy to avoid any potential upset.
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