Maya’s design studio was quiet but full of warmth. After months of sadness and silence, the space felt alive again. Rolls of fabric were neatly stacked in the corners, and sketches were pinned across the walls. 

The soft smell of coffee mixed with the scent of cotton and thread. 

Maya stood at her work table, checking her order list, her fingers gently touching a piece of lace.

Her heart felt lighter. The studio was hers again.

The chime above the door jingled softly.

She turned—and her breath caught for just a moment.

Elias.

Dressed in tailored slacks and a navy shirt, he stepped inside with a quiet smile, a folder...