I slid the designs toward her, excitement finally winning overanxiety.
“Louis Vuitton’s winter collection,” I said. “The original concept was fine, but I needed it to be unforgettable.”
I pointed to the first sketch: a midnight-blue coat, silver embroidery glinting like frost under runway lights.
“This is the showstopper.”
Inaya leaned closer. “Oh wow.”
“And these,” I said, flipping the page, “are the day pieces. Burgundy, forest green, oversized knits, clean tailoring. Winter without being heavy.”
Her eyes lit up as she studied each line.
“This,” I added, stopping on an emerald silk gown, “is the evening wear. Simple, but look at that neckline. That’s what makes people remember it.”
“They’re going to lose their minds,” Inaya breathed.
“They already are,” I said, smiling. “Louis Vuitton’s obsessed.”
Her grin widened. “You’re really doing this.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was.
Then her gaze drifted to the table behind me, where that ridiculously expensive purse Ronan gifted me sat. The Mouawad 1001 Nights Diamond Purse.
Her breath hitched. “Is that…?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes went huge. “Nina, that’s a four-million-euro bag.”
“I know.”
“And you’re letting it sit there like it’s a tote from Zara?”
I laughed weakly. “It was a gift.”
Her eyes slowly slid to mine. “Ronan.”
I froze. “How do you know?”
She gently set the bag down. “Because I know you and because only one man on this planet would do something that insane for you. Also… you’ve been smiling again.”
I exhaled.
“I’m not hiding it,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing to hide.”
She squeezed my arm. “Then don’t. If you want him in your life, do it. Second chances can be worth it, and you deserve a happy ending.”
The ballroom at The Plaza shimmered like something pulled from a dream. Crystal chandeliers scattered light across marble floors, and the low hum of music and conversation rose toward the gilded ceilings.
I stepped inside, nerves and anticipation tangling in my chest as my midnight-blue gown caught the light, the sequins glinting with every step. I reached up and adjusted the necklace my mother had given me, grounding myself in its familiar weight.
Inaya walked beside me, her emerald abaya and matching hijab striking against the sea of couture. Where I felt like I was vibrating from the inside out, she was calm and steady.
“Breathe, Nina,” she murmured.
I let out a quiet laugh and did exactly that as we moved deeper into the room.
