The next morning…
Zara stirred awake, brushing the sleep from her eyes. After freshening up quietly, she began unpacking her suitcase.
Her hand paused when it touched a familiar folder of her old design sketches. She pulled it out, settling onto the edge of the bed.
As she opened it, a flood of bittersweet memories washed over her. Each drawing reminded her of the dream she once chased with passion. She recalled the joy of winning the "Best Designer of the Year" award in the early days of her career.
That achievement had propelled her to launch her own fashion company. But her world shifted when her beloved sister, her biggest supporter, passed away from a terminal illness.
Zara had walked away from her thriving career five years ago to fulfill a promise: to raise her sister's child and devote herself fully to her new role as a wife and mother. But now, looking back, all she saw was sacrifice followed by disappointment.
Still, a quiet fire sparked in her heart. She wanted to reclaim her dream, to breathe life into the career she once let go.
Closing the folder with resolve, she stepped out of the room. Bree was already up, sipping her morning coffee at the table.
"Good morning," Bree greeted her with a cheerful smile. "Did you sleep well?"
Zara gave a small nod. "Yes, thank you."
"Come join me for breakfast," Bree offered, patting the seat beside her.
Zara sat down just as Jasper appeared, carrying a tray brimming with buttered toast, perfectly poached eggs, and two cups of hot coffee.
"Breakfast is served, my lovely ladies," Jasper announced dramatically, placing the tray on the table.
"Thanks, Jasper," Bree said, grinning as she loaded her plate.
Jasper sat beside them and slid the tray closer to Zara. "Sorry, it's nothing fancy—just a simple breakfast today. But I'll whip up something special for dinner tonight."
Zara looked touched. "You really don't have to go to the trouble."
"Oh, let him," Bree chuckled. "Cooking is his love language. After all, he is a hotel chef. He lives for this stuff."
Zara smiled warmly. A flicker of awe danced in her gaze. Her friends had forged ahead in life, growing their careers with passion and grit over the past five years. And here she was…just beginning again.
At the table, Bree and Jasper bantered playfully, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
"Guess what, Zara?" Bree chimed, eyes twinkling. "This guy is saving up to open his own restaurant. I'm counting down the days. Once it opens, I'll snatch him for our company's catering. What do you think?"
Jasper laughed, waving her off. "Yes, yes—my restaurant, your restaurant. Let me save up enough first."
Zara looked at them, amazed and quietly envious. She had been tucked away in a different world that revolved solely around her marriage and her child. In the process, she had lost touch with moments like these.
Now, sitting here with Bree and Jasper, she caught a glimpse of what her life could become again. She would have become one of the successful designers in the world if she hadn't given up her career five years ago.
Now that she was starting anew, doubt coiled at the edges of her mind. Could she really do it? Could she reclaim her path?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Jasper's voice. "Why aren't you eating? Don't like it?"
Zara blinked, realizing she hadn't touched her plate. "No, no—it's fine," she said, pushing the folder aside.
She picked up a poached egg, sliced it, and placed a bite in her mouth.
"What's this?" Bree asked, curiosity piqued, as she reached for the folder Zara had set aside. She flipped it open, and the moment her eyes landed on the sketches, she let out a breathless gasp.
"Oh. My. God…" Her eyes widened with wonder. Each page she turned left her more stunned. "These designs…"
Zara gave a small, almost shy smile. "They are just some old drafts I made… I never really got a chance to bring them to life."
"Are you kidding me?" Bree's voice was nearly a squeal now, lit up with excitement. "Zara, these are brilliant. Absolute showstoppers. I've been struggling to find the right look for our fashion show this year, and here they are, right in front of me."
Zara blinked, taken aback by her friend's enthusiasm. "You really think they'll work?" she asked cautiously, even though her heart fluttered with hope.
"Zara, trust me," Bree said firmly, eyes still glued to the sketches. "These designs are bold, elegant, fresh—everything we need. We are going to light up that runway."
Bree's conviction washed over Zara like a tide, lifting her spirits. For the first time in years, she felt the spark of her old self flicker back to life. Maybe she wasn't starting from scratch. Maybe she was picking up where she left off… and this time, she wasn't going to hold back.
At Nathaniel's place…
The shrill ring of his phone jarred Nathaniel out of sleep. He groaned, fumbling around the side table before finally grabbing the device. His eyelids barely lifted as he squinted at the screen—Roberto's name glowed back at him.
Why the hell was Roberto calling so early?
"Hello?" he rasped.
"Sir, it's already nine. When are you coming to the office?" Roberto's tone was laced with urgency.
Nathaniel shot upright. "What? Nine?" he repeated in disbelief, glancing around the dim room.
The curtains were still drawn tight, shutting out the morning light completely. No wonder it felt like dawn.
A memory stabbed through his grogginess.
'Wake up, Nathaniel. It's time to go to the office.' Zara's voice seemed to echo in the back of his head. She'd always pull the curtains open with a smile, letting sunlight flood in to shake him out of bed.
But today, the room was quiet. No one came. And without her, he had overslept.
"Sir, are you listening?" Roberto's voice buzzed in his ear, pulling him back.
"The meeting is about to start. Are you coming or not?"
Nathaniel dragged a hand down his face, sighing. He glanced at the clock. He couldn't possibly make it in time now.
"Postpone the meeting," he muttered curtly before hanging up.
He tossed the phone aside and swung his legs over the bed, pushing himself up. The emptiness of the room seemed to press in around him. He strode into the bathroom lazily.
After a long shower, Nathaniel stepped out of the bathroom and instinctively glanced at the bed, expecting his clothes to be neatly laid out as usual. But there was nothing.
He stood there, frowning, the absence more jarring than he had anticipated.
Zara's familiar voice echoed in his head yet again, 'Your clothes are ready.' Her warm smile flashed in his memory like a haunting shadow.
Nathaniel exhaled sharply and smirked to himself. "That's clever, Zara," he muttered. "You are trying to make me regret this, aren't you?"