The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Celine stepped out, dressed in a long cream coat over a black turtleneck and trousers, hair tied in a sleek bun. Simple. Understated. Yet it commanded attention.
Three days since she left her penthouse. Three days of borrowed clothes, borrowed calm, borrowed time. But today, she had to reclaim something.
The hallway hushed. Conversations dropped. A few heads peeked out of their cubicles.
Stacy was already waiting by her office door, coffee in one hand, a file in the other. Her eyes widened when she saw her.
"You actually came," she said softly, stepping forward. "You sure you're okay?"
She had called in saying she was coming over to work with a worried Stacy saying she should still take days off.
Celine gave a thin smile and took the coffee. "Christmas waits for no one."
She walked past, pushing open her door. The familiar scent of cedar and vanilla filled the room. Papers stacked neatly, her sketches on the wall. Nothing out of place, but she still locked the door behind her.
Stacy hesitated, then followed. "You don't have to prove anything, you know."
"I'm not." Celine slid off her coat and reached for a sketch pad. "But we have a winter line to launch. The deal is signed. Eyes are on us now."
Stacy sighed, setting the file down. "You're not sleeping well, are you?"
Celine didn't answer. She was already flipping through designs, focused, driven, but her eyes occasionally flicked to the window, the corners of the room, like a shadow might move.
Behind all that control… was a woman still waiting to exhale.
Later she had called the team for a brief meeting, designers, seamstresses, interns, fabric handlers. Bolts of winter textiles lay rolled on tables, mood boards pinned to the walls, the air buzzing with quiet tension.
Celine stood at the head of the room, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, her sketchpad in the other. Her eyes scanned the team, her people, many of whom had stayed back late for weeks preparing for this very launch.
She cleared her throat, and the murmurs faded.
"I know the past few weeks have been intense," she began, voice calm but firm. "And I'm proud of you all for scaling through."
A few heads turned toward Stacy, who gave a slight nod, silently telling them: now's the moment to listen.
"But we have something bold here," Celine continued, holding up a page from her sketchbook, the centerpiece of the winter collection: a deep navy velvet coat with a sculpted collar and silver embroidery that mirrored snowflakes. "This collection is more than just clothing. It's survival, it's elegance, it's warmth in the dead of winter. It's power that doesn't scream to be noticed, but it will be."
She let the words settle.
"We launch in less than two weeks. This will go to Chanel. It will be seen in Paris, Milan, maybe even New York. So, I need all of you, not at ninety percent, not good enough, but your best. Every thread, every seam, every finish. Give it your all."
Silence. Then a few nods. Then applause, soft, but genuine.
Celine gave a small smile. "Let's make winter ours."
Stacy beamed from the side. "She's back," she whispered to herself.
***
Celine stepped out of her company building, the evening chill already settling in. She pulled her coat tighter, phone in hand, ready to order a taxi after a long day. The glow from the screen lit her face as she scrolled through the app.
Suddenly, a sleek car pulled up beside her with a familiar hum of the engine. She looked up, surprised to see August leaning out the window, a wide, playful grin lighting up his face.
"Well, if it isn't the queen of fashion herself," he teased, voice warm. "Need a ride?"
Celine smiled, lowering her phone. "Perfect timing. I was just about to order a taxi."
August opened the door for her, his grin widening. "Hop in. I figured you could use a break from the cold, and from taxis."
She chuckled, slipping into the seat beside him. "Thanks, August. You really know how to spoil a girl."
As the car pulled away, the city lights flickered around them, wrapping the moment in quiet warmth.
Inside the apartment, Celine kicked off her shoes and sank onto the couch with a tired sigh. "Where's Liam?" she asked, glancing at the quite space.
"He's sleeping over at Julian's," August replied with a grin. "Probably getting more ice cream. That kid's smart."
Celine smiled faintly, throwing her bag aside. "Good. That boy knows how to enjoy life."
August chuckled softly. "See? No matter how busy you are, don't starve yourself."
"I'm famished," Celine admitted.
August smiled warmly, "Let me scoop up something quick. How about ramen?"
Celine's tired eyes brightened a little. "Perfect."
He headed into the kitchen to start preparing the ramen, the comforting sounds of water boiling and soft chopping filling the cozy apartment as Celine settled deeper into the couch, letting the warmth of the moment wash over her. Exhaustion seeped into her bones, pulling her into a soft, welcome sleep.
She stirred when August's voice gently called her name. "Celine, dinner's ready."
Blinking open her eyes, she saw him standing, holding two steaming bowls of ramen, a quiet smile playing on his lips. He handed her the bowl with a playful grin. Celine took a tentative bite, and her eyes widened. She moaned softly, surprised.
"Even ramen tastes different when you make it. Dude, you're blessed."
August laughed, the sound warm and easy. "Told you, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Celine greedily finished her ramen, but her stomach still growled, clearly unsatisfied.
August noticed and pushed his bowl toward her. "You skipped lunch," he said, matter-of-fact.
Celine nodded guiltily, eyes still on the steaming bowl in front of her. "Yeah, I skipped lunch," she admitted quietly.
"Well, then you better finish mine too."