So she did. Ani opened the bag, and inside, folded neatly and wrapped in tissue paper, was the exact white dress that had been forever destroyed by a cabernet splotch. Her brain could hardly compute.
“Did I get it right?” he asked, seemingly nervous.
“Raffi, oh my God, yes. How did you…? You didn’t have to, you know.”
She stared at the dress in her hands. What the hell? He was gifting her something, something so thoughtful. She had loved that dress, but considering her situation, there was no way she was going to buy a brand-new one. Now she had one.
He shrugged. “I totaled it. This was the only right thing to do.”
“But your YSL shirt—I mean, I ruined that one, and I didn’t, I can’t—”
He waved her off. “That was different. It wasn’t the brand, it was sentimental.”
“Oh God, that just makes the matcha stain so much worse.”
And she also wondered how that shirt was sentimental. Was it from an ex? Kami?! Or something else?
He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt.”
Ani heard the lie.
“Is it?”
Raffi glanced down, his hands fidgeting with the sunglasses he’d removed. “Well, no. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
They caught each other’s eyes, and Ani hoped she was able to impart the full meaning of her words. “I’d like that.”
He half smiled. Then turned his attention back to the open trunk. “There’s something else. It’s stupid. I wasn’t sure if that dress was the right one or not, so I got something else, too, and I can’t return it anyway so just keep it, and if it doesn’t fit you can regift it, I won’t mind.”
He rambled as he handed her a box. A black box that said Balmain Paris. She hoped, she desperately hoped, this was one of those times when you put the gift in a box it didn’t belong to. Her family had a couple running Nordstrom boxes they kept recycling and using for Christmas and birthdays year after year.
She opened it, and inside was perfectly pressed tissue paper sealed with a Balmain sticker. Balmain was not a normaldesigner. It was Kardashian-level pricey. Unobtainable. Not even worth dreaming about.
“Raffi,” she said dangerously. “What did you do?”
“What?” He shrugged, genuinely clueless.
“I can’t open this.”
“Yes, you can. I got it for you,” he said, then immediately inspected some gravel by his shoe, as if too embarrassed to look at her.
She took a deep breath, gingerly peeled off the sticker, and lifted the tissue to reveal a black-and-white short-sleeved tweed minidress, which was, indeed, designed by Balmain, and the single most beautiful article of clothing she’d held in her hands. The stitching on this thing, the silk lining…
“You hate it?” he asked. “Tweed was a risk, but it’s in fashion right now and also sort of timeless, so I thought it could last a while.”
Her voice came out a whisper. “Raffi, are you fucking kidding me right now? You bought me a very,verydesigner dress? You can’t do that.”
She felt that was true, but she also felt…spoiled, in a good way, in a way she’d never been before. Kami had been fabulously wealthy but never bought her lavish gifts, which Ani didn’t even know she would want. Until now.
“Sure I can. I destroyed your dress and wasn’t sure if I got the exact same one, so I bought a backup.”
“Balmain is not a backup!”
Raffi shrugged. “I love shopping, so sue me.”
Ani breathed out. “My God. I can’t accept this.”
