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A flash of pain registered in his eyes. “It’s getting there. Mom’s back in treatment. I’ll explain more later, because I just want to make today about Fibers and you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Oblivious to the swirl and chaos around us, we were trapped in our own little bubble. My fingers skimmed around his waist, and his fingers tunneled through my hair. “So, what do you say? Can we try to make this work?”

“Yes,” I breathed out.

“Ah hell.” His lips stretched across the space between us to press against mine. “I’ve been miserable without you.”

He kissed me again, this time more firmly. His fingers grasped the back of my hair securely as if he was unwilling to let me go.

“God, Blake,” I mumbled, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I’ve been miserable, too.”

He groaned, deepening the kiss, his tongue licking over my lips and then dipping fully into my mouth. Everything happening around us faded into the background as my fingers fisted the back of his shirt and tugged him nearer.

For the first time in ever, I didn’t care what anybody else thought. The only thing that mattered was that Blake was here and he wanted to be with me as badly as I wanted to be with him.

I tore my lips away from his, realizing just how unproductive I’d been in the last several minutes. Especially before a huge event. It was so unlike me.

I needed to call out the model order. I had a grade to earn and people were counting on me. My stomach tensed, taut with familiar panic, as I attempted to break his hold and smooth down his designer shirt. But Blake tugged me back against him for a final tender kiss.

Just then I heard a whoop from the middle of the room, and when I looked up, my three roommates, Courtney, Misha, and Indy, were standing there grinning at our display. I walked toward them and they pulled me into a group hug, congratulating me on the store and giggling about Blake. They backed away, saying they’d wait outside to see the show.

Taking a deep breath, I turned and called the lineup. This was the easy part. The timing and the dress changes were the chaotic parts. But I felt good, like I had this in the bag. I walked up and down the row to be sure clothes were straight and hair was in place on each model.

When I got to number ten, Blake grinned and laced his fingers through mine, pulling me in for a brief and chaste kiss. “Good luck. You’re going to rock this.”

* * *

The show went off without a hitch and I was on a high—feeling so alive and confident in my own skin as I took a bow at the end of the set to roaring applause.

As the models filtered off the stage and headed to the back room to change, I was surrounded by my roommates and other design students, who had wanted to congratulate me on a job well done.

The storefront was empty when I walked back inside, but I could still hear the buzz of the crowd from the street and customers combing through the racks that had been brought outside.

“The show was a hit. Fantastic job,” Jaclyn said, rounding the corner from the dressing area, and my cheeks lifted with the swell of pride. “And what you’ve done to this space is simply amazing.”

“Thank you,” I said, heading toward her. I heard the door swing open and chatter from customers behind me, but I was riveted by the serious look in Jaclyn’s eyes. There was something else she wanted to say.

“I know your plan is to move to New York City after you graduate, Chloe. But I want you to know that you have another option, too,” she said, fixing a rack of dresses near the back wall. “I’m willing to offer you the job of managing this store. It belongs to you anyway and I’d like to see if this location takes off.”

Hearing her offer unleashed a swirling kaleidoscope of emotions inside me. It’d been the first time I’d ever allowed the possibility of having this job as a career inhabit my brain. I really enjoyed the merchandising aspect of running a storefront, but I never saw it as an option for me—and neither did my mother.

“That’s an incredible compliment,” my mother’s voice rang out from across the room, and my shoulders immediately hunched up. It was the tight, professional sound I’d come to recognize all too well, when she was holding herself back from being something other than polite. “I agree what she did was amazing.”

She took a deep breath and I knew what was coming next. “But Chloe has classes and schoolwork and will eventually have résumés to fill out with my contacts in New York. I wouldn’t want her to get bogged down with the idea of having to manage an entire store when that’s not what she’s been working toward.”

“Chloe is excellent on the business side of things,” Jaclyn said, essentially shutting my mother down. Watching two strong women going toe-to-toe was like waiting for the outcome of a tense tennis match. But I was beginning to feel like a child standing there in silence, and I needed to get my mouth unstuck. “I’m her boss and I’d like to give her this opportunity. She can make up her own mind and I’ll respect whatever she decides. And I hope you will, too.”

For a brief moment I was too dumbfounded to move. But I quickly got my wits about me, because I couldn’t allow Jaclyn to fight my battles for me. If Blake could face the crisis in his family head-on, it was time for me to do the same.

“Mom, we need to talk,” I said, effectively ending their conversation. I had to face up to my own truths, and now was the perfect opportunity to do it.

I spun to confront my own mother. The woman who made me my heart tremble and soar at the same time. I always had so much respect for her, but lately she’d become too overbearing. She needed to hear how I felt about how she’d been treating me. I had allowed it to continue for far too long. That blame was all mine.

Jaclyn simply squeezed my shoulder as she passed, her face set in quiet admiration.

I inched toward the front of the shop, my feet nearly pasted to the floor. My mother stood perfectly still, her eyebrows creased together in indignation. “How dare she think that I don’t—”

“She’s right, you know.” My heart was hammering in my chest.

She stared at me as her face traveled through a series of emotions, from shock to sadness, and finally landing on something that resembled regret.

“The reason this is the first time you’re seeing the store,” I said, feeling like a traitor to my own mother, “is that I wanted to finally have something of my own.”

Her shoulders drooped as her head fell forward. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I needed her to know exactly how I’d been feeling.

“Please understand, Mom,” I said, my voice quavering. “I know you only wanted what was best. I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me. But lately . . . you’ve been so insistent . . . pushy . . . and I . . . I should have spoken up sooner.”

“Oh, honey.” She stepped forward suddenly and pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry. What have I done? I must have really gone overboard if you didn’t even want to share what you’d been working on with me. We used to tell each other everything.”

“I did want to share it,” I said, tears burning the back of my throat. “Just not until after it was completed. I wanted you . . . to be proud of me. Proud of what I’d accomplished on my own.”

“I am proud of you. Very proud,” she said, squeezing tighter. “It’s just . . . I felt you pulling away from me. And I guess I tried holding on tighter. It’s like I blinked and you became this responsible young adult. I . . . I was afraid you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“I’ll always need you, Mom,” I whispered. “Always. But you need to give me the space to make my own decisions . . . and mistakes.”