NADIA
The next three weeks blur into work. Sketches, fittings, client meetings. Days start early, end late. On weekends, I attend fashion shows, smiling for photos that barely feel like me. Somewhere in between, I find time to write handwritten notes to a few loyal clients — small, personal gestures that remind them I still care.
One of them, Lillian, replies almost immediately. She wants to meet for coffee to discuss something special — a dress for her daughter’s graduation.
“She’s everything I’ve got,” she says, setting her tablet aside as the waiter drops off our drinks. “This milestone means the world to us.”
I smile, genuinely. “She’s lucky to have you, Lillian.” I reach across the table, giving her hand a light squeeze.
She squeezes back, her smile warm. “How’s your husband?”
M
