She stitched dreams into fabric.
He stitched hope into her heart.
The lights dimmed.
A hush fell over the grand hall as the opening music began, soft and haunting. I peeked from behind the curtain, heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Tonight was everything.
My dream.
My pain.
My healing.
“Ailora,” the host’s voice echoed through the speakers. “The newest label by Tiya Spenser.”
The crowd erupted.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath.
“Princess,” came a familiar voice behind me.
I turned.
Jake stood there, dressed in sleek black with a single white rose pinned to his lapel. His eyes were glowing with pride.
“You look like you’re about to faint,” he teased gently.
“I might,” I laughed nervously. “I’ve never been this scared.”
He took my hands
