Episode2
827 Words
Broken Until You
The bell announcing first period echoed across Westbridge Community College.
Students hurried through the hallways, their conversations blending into a cheerful hum that made the campus feel alive.
Amelia and Lily slipped into the Fashion Illustration Studio just before Professor Evelyn Carter
___________
The Hart family home stood in one of Westbridge's quiet suburban neighborhoods.
It wasn't a mansion.
It wasn't luxurious.
But it was filled with something Amelia believed money could never buy.
Warmth.
As she stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of garlic and herbs drifted from the kitchen.
"I'm home!" she called.
"In here!" Grace answered.
Amelia placed her backpack by the staircase before making her way into the kitchen.
Her mother stood at the counter preparing dinner while soft jazz music played from a small speaker.
"You bought more fabric."
Grace didn't even turn around.
Amelia laughed.
"How do you always know?"
"Because you walk differently when you've been shopping for fabric."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
Grace looked over her shoulder with a teasing smile.
"You have the happiest face in the world."
Amelia couldn't help laughing.
"Maybe I was excited."
"I can see that."
Grace nodded toward the shopping bag.
"Show me."
Within seconds, mother and daughter had spread the fabrics across the dining table.
Grace gently ran her fingers over the ivory silk.
"This one feels expensive."
"It was."
Amelia smiled sheepishly.
"But it was worth it."
Grace looked at her daughter with quiet admiration.
"You've loved creating things since you were little."
"I remember."
"You used to cut up my old curtains."
Amelia covered her face.
"Mom!"
"You told me you were making dresses for your dolls."
"I was six."
"You nearly gave me a heart attack."
The two women burst into laughter.
At that moment, Daniel walked through the front door carrying his briefcase.
"I can hear you laughing from outside."
Grace smiled.
"Your daughter confessed."
"I confessed nothing."
"Oh?"
Daniel loosened his tie.
"What happened?"
"She admitted she destroyed our curtains."
"I was six!"
Daniel laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall.
"I remember those curtains."
"They were your mother's favorite."
Amelia groaned dramatically.
"Can we please stop talking about the curtains?"
"No," both parents answered together.
The room filled with laughter once again.
For Amelia, moments like these were priceless.
She often wondered if every family felt this close.
Or if she had simply been blessed with parents who made love look effortless.
After dinner, Daniel carried two mugs of tea onto the back porch.
"Come keep your old man company."
Amelia joined him beneath the wooden pergola overlooking the small garden.
The evening breeze carried the scent of jasmine through the air.
Daniel handed her a mug.
"You've been thinking a lot lately."
She looked at him in surprise.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to your father."
She smiled.
"I'm excited about graduation."
"You should be."
"But I'm also scared."
Daniel nodded.
"Scared of what?"
"What if I fail?"
"What if no one likes my designs?"
"What if I'm not good enough?"
Daniel remained silent for a moment.
Then he pointed toward the garden.
"Do you remember planting those roses with your mother?"
Amelia nodded.
"They looked terrible at first."
She laughed.
"They looked like sticks."
"They did."
"But your mother watered them anyway."
"She believed they needed time."
Daniel looked at Amelia.
"Dreams are a lot like that."
"They don't bloom the day you plant them."
"They bloom because you refuse to stop caring for them."
Amelia stared quietly at the flowers swaying in the evening breeze.
"I'll remember that."
"I know you will."
Inside the house, Grace watched the two of them through the kitchen window.
A gentle smile crossed her face.
Daniel always knew exactly what Amelia needed to hear.
Not because he had all the answers.
But because he listened before he spoke.
Grace silently hoped that one day...
Her daughter would find someone who loved her with that same patience.
Someone who made her feel safe enough to dream even bigger.
Later that night, Amelia returned to her room.
She changed into comfortable pajamas before sitting at her desk.
The new leather-bound sketchbook her father had given her rested in front of her.
She opened it to the first blank page.
After thinking for several moments, she picked up her pencil.
Instead of drawing a dress...
She began sketching a small boutique.
Large windows.
Fresh flowers outside the entrance.
Elegant gowns displayed beneath warm lights.
Above the doorway she carefully wrote a name.
Hart Étoile
She smiled.
It was only a dream.
A name that existed only on paper.
But every great story...
Every successful business...
Every unforgettable journey...
Had once begun as nothing more than a dream someone dared to believe in.
Amelia gently closed the sketchbook and placed it beside her bed.
Tomorrow would bring another day of lectures, laughter, and late-night sketching.
And for now...
That was enough.
- Writer
