Page 48

stassi

“Why are we going across the street from your apartment into a random warehouse?” I asked after we dropped Damien off at Ledger’s apartment.

I was nervous at first, but seeing the room Ledger and Alex had set up, I realized this was part of the new me I was trying to become.

“To be fair, it’s not exactly across the street—it’s technically a full block away.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” I squeezed Alex’s hand.

“But this is where our date starts.”

I scrunched my brows in confusion as he pushed open the front door of the warehouse and led us to an elevator.

Inside, everything was surprisingly modern. What I had originally thought was a warehouse turned out to be full of small offices and doors, all designed to keep the building’s original industrial charm.

Alex squeezed my hand reassuringly as he guided me into an old elevator. The iron gates clanged shut, and the elevator groaned to life, slowly ascending to the top floor. His hand never left mine as he smiled like a little kid in a toy store for the first time. His excitement was palpable.

When we reached the top floor, Alex led me down a carpeted hallway lined with sleek, minimalist decor. He stopped at one of the doors and pulled out a key.

“What is this?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Alex smiled, unlocking the door and pushing it open. Inside was a beautifully decorated loft space with large windows overlooking the city. The room was filled with soft lighting, and a small table set for two stood in the center.

“What?” I let go of his hand and stepped across the threshold.

I turned back to Alex, who had propped himself up by the door. “Go look.”

I took a few more steps into the room, and past the table was an oversized desk and a large chair, but when I finally turned back toward the brick wall behind me, my mouth dropped to the floor.

There were rows and rows of fabric, tulle, buttons, even fabric scissors, two sewing machines, and anything else anyone would ever need to sew and create... outfits.

I looked down at my dress, then back at Alex. It took me a moment to take everything in.

“Alex.” I didn’t have the right words to describe the feeling churning in my chest.

I was getting used to having people take care of me, like my mother who saved my life and watched my son when I wasn’t able to run after him or stay with him. But this gift? It was completely over the top, unnecessary, and yet I was so incredibly grateful.

“I don’t deserve any of this. I’m not even that good.” My cheeks flushed.

Alex pushed off the wall and made his way to the center of the room, where he stood across from me. “You deserve all of this, but this isn’t everything.” He gestured to the table full of candles. “Sit down so I can explain.”

I nodded aggressively, trying to make sense of this before sitting. He still had that smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t need all this. I have Damien and work. I barely have time to craft, let alone come—” The words tumbled out in a rush as I tried to justify why I didn’t need any of this.

“Wait.” He urged me to stop. “I have a job opportunity for you.”

“A job? What’s next, Alex? This is all too much.” I turned in my chair, glancing around the room before meeting his gaze again.

“Yes. Some of the guys on the team have mentioned that their wives wanted unique pieces with their jerseys to display for games. A lot of them have social media that they run professionally and like to be unique. When I saw Damien’s shirt at camp, I mentioned it to a few people at work.

I asked your roommate to help me when I dropped off the rolls of fabric?—”

“Wait.” I balked. “You dropped off the fabric?” I could’ve sworn she’d been talking to the delivery driver at the time or whoever brought the rolls up. I never thought?—

“Why didn’t you come in?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It didn’t feel like the right time, but she gave me a few photos of some things you did for her, and a few of the girls loved the pieces.

They want to collab with you for their social media, but I figured you needed a quiet place to focus.

Hence...” He brought his hands up, gesturing to the stuff around us.

“I got a good deal on this place and figured I wanted to invest in your business ever since you made me that shirt?—”

“The shirt with a billion holes in it?” I laughed.

“Exactly. You’re stubborn, so getting you to take my money was going to be next to impossible.” He held his hand out again to the room. “This is my investment.”

“And what do you gain if I fail?” I crossed my arms, unwilling to believe he would sacrifice everything for me.

He huffed out a laugh like I’d told him a funny joke. “You’re not going to fail.”

“But—”

“No.” He shook his head. “Your ex-husband hurt you so badly that you spent months?—”

“A year.” I corrected him.

“Exactly. You spent a year in the hospital, with your mother—the same mother who insisted you get married in the first place—helping you recover.”

“She’s not the easiest to handle.”

“Psh.” He leaned back in his chair. “I was on her good side within a day.”

This time, it was my turn to laugh.

“You did all of that, then she left, and you could barely walk, but you still managed to raise a toddler all on your own. You, Anastasia, are the most resilient person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

My heart warmed, just like it always did when I was with Alex. He always made me feel safe, like there was somehow a fire always burning, beckoning me into its comfort and warmth.

“You’re not going to fail,” he added, and I believed him.

For some wild reason, I trusted that he was telling me the truth.

“I’ll try it, but with work and Damien, I can’t really commit to a lot.” I stressed.

“I get it. Try it for Carlos’s wife. She was the first one with a big following and had some ideas. I told her you’d connect with her via social media if you were interested.”

I nodded. I was on social media, but I wasn’t active. I avoided sharing any photos of Damien because I didn’t want Dimitri to somehow find out where we were. It was part of the court order that he had access to my number to make his calls, but he never had my address and never would.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

Another shit-eating grin spread across Alex’s face. “That brings me to another thing. That shirt that you made me for the first time. Do you remember it?”

“Obviously.”

“Look above the desk.” I looked over my shoulder where the desk was and saw a shadow box frame with the shirt proudly hung inside it.

“Oh my god, Alex. If anyone were to come here, they’d fire me. That thing is ridiculous.”

I looked at all the random holes, the patchy pattern, and the very obvious hem. It looked like a child’s craft project.

But then I looked down at the dress I was wearing.

The seam delicately folded in on the bottom, the raw edges on the top by the bust. The way the bows were stable and perfectly positioned at the top of my shoulders.

It wasn’t perfect, but neither was I. It was proof of how far I’d come.

My eyes fluttered back up, meeting Alex’s intense gaze.

“Why?”