114
~Elara’s POV
One of the interns approached with nervous eyes, holding a sketchbook like she was afraid it might burn her fingers. "Luna Elara," she said, voice shaking a little, "I tried to draw sothing new, and I don’t know if it’s good enough because my hands keep shaking and I keep thinking what if it becos another mistake like the last ones."
I looked at her drawing. It wasn’t perfect. The lines weren’t confident. The proportions were a little off. But there was sothing emotional in it, sothing that looked like soone fighting to be seen. That mattered more.
"It is enough," I told her, eting her eyes so she understood. "Because you tried. And because you care. Fix the lines here and adjust the waistline, but do not throw this away. Fear is not talent. You have talent. Fear is just noise. You can silence it."
Her breath hitched like she was about to cry. "Thank you, Luna. I will fix it. I promise I will fix it."
"You don’t have to promise," I said softly. "Just work. Working is enough right now."
She left, and for a mont, I let myself breathe again.
We moved to the main working hall afterward. The room buzzed with sound: machines humming, scissors slicing through fabric, voices rising and falling with ideas. There was a heat in the air from bodies pushing beyond their limits, the kind of heat that happens when pressure and purpose collide.
Janae was on her phone again. "David said he found more fabrics, and if we approve now, he can ship them tonight. He wants to video call so you can see them."
"Tell him to call," I replied.
She put the phone on speaker, and David’s voice ca through, rough and alert like he hadn’t slept either. "Luna Elara, I have the fabrics arranged. You have five minutes to pick, or I am sending whatever I think is closest to what you want."
"Show ," I said.
He moved the cara, revealing bolts of fabric stacked to the ceiling. Jewel tones, soft neutrals, deep blacks, hopeful whites. I tried to imagine them on models, with lights and music and eyes watching.
"Take the erald green, the ivory satin, the black velvet, and the burnt gold," I instructed. "Leave the pale pink. It feels too soft for this collection. We are not soft at the mont. We are clawing our way forward."
"I will ship imdiately," he answered. "Do not lose again. You cannot afford it."
"I know," I replied, the words heavier than I wanted them to be. "Thank you, David."
When the call ended, silence settled for a mont, like we were all waiting for sothing. Then the room moved again, like a heartbeat restarting.
Janae touched my arm lightly. "Do you think we can do it?"
I didn’t lie. "I think we do not have a choice but to succeed."
She nodded like she needed to believe that as much as I did.
We worked until the light outside the windows changed, until the afternoon sun stretched shadows across the floor like long fingers reaching for the edge of the room. My body ached, but I didn’t sit. Sitting felt like stopping, and stopping felt like surrender.
My phone started ringing again, the vibration cutting through the tense silence in Linda’s office, and for a mont I wanted to ignore it, because my head was full, my heart was full, my patience was thin. But when I saw the na on the screen, I answered.
"Babe, are you still at the office?" Darlon’s voice ca through soft, almost like he already knew I was standing on ground that was breaking beneath .
"Yes," I breathed out, rubbing my forehead. "There is still too much to fix."
He hesitated, like he was choosing the right mont to step closer. "Should I co and join you? I can stay with you while you work. I do not want you to be alone in that kind of stress."
I looked around the room, the scattered papers. "No," I said gently. "People will stare. They already talk too much. If you co here now, the whispers will multiply. I do not need more gossip when I am still fighting to protect my company."
"I do not mind if they stare," he said, a little stubborn, a little romantic in that way he does not hide. "Let them stare. Let them choke on it. I would rather stand next to you than watch you drown from far away."
A small, tired laugh slipped from , almost despite myself. "You always say things like that at the wrong ti."
"Maybe," he answered softly, "or maybe I say them when you need to hear them the most."
I swallowed, because part of wanted to say yes, wanted him here, wanted a mont to lean on soone without feeling weak. But another part of knew I needed to stand first, for myself, before I leaned on anyone.
"You should not co," I told him quietly. "I need to face this without looking like I am hiding behind soone."
He was silent for a mont. Then, "Too late. I am already in the car. And David is also coming. He was very eager to check on you all. He sounded... impatient."
I scoffed, shaking my head. "David is not coming for . He is coming for Janae. He will pretend he is just here to ’help with fabrics’ or ’check the progress’ but he is coming because Janae is here."
Darlon chuckled, low and warm. "They are both stubborn. They would rather choke than admit they like each other."
I felt the corner of my lip pull up just a little, not really a full smile, just the ghost of one.
"Then let them choke in silence. I have no energy to carry their romance on my back," I said, trying to sound annoyed. "Even though, Janae already told about their relationship. She said it’s official."
There was a brief pause on the line, like he blinked.
"What relationship?" Darlon asked, confused. "David did not tell anything. Not a single word."
I let out a tired breath and leaned back in my chair.
"Of course he didn’t. He has the mouth of a locked safe but the eyes of a loud disaster. The man looks at her like he wants to rewrite destiny, yet he refuses to admit anything out loud."
Darlon humd, sothing amused under the surface.
"That sounds like him. He would rather pretend his heart is missing than confess he still has one."
"Well, I am on my way. Whether you wait for outside or whether I walk in and find you myself, I am coming."
I closed my eyes for a mont, letting the words settle in my chest.
"Drive safe," I whispered.
"I will," he promised. "And my love?"
"Yes?"
"I love you. Even like this. Even tired. Even angry. Even when your hands are shaking and you do not realize they are. I love you."
"I love you too," I said.
We ended the call.
I lowered the phone slowly, feeling the world shift around again, not falling apart this ti, but rearranging, like pieces trying to find where they belonged.
Janae stepped closer. "He’s coming, isn’t he?"
"Yes," I said. "And David too."
She groaned into her hands. "Moon goddess, why? I am not emotionally prepared to stand near that man today. I look like I slept in a sewing machine."
"You probably did," I murmured, and she elbowed lightly, just enough to break the heaviness for a second.
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