The studio was quiet again.
Maya stood frozen in the same spot, staring at the door Elias and Daniel had just walked out of. Her hands trembled slightly, and the weight of everything finally crashed over her.
Her breath caught in her throat.
A single tear slipped down her cheek, landing softly on the sketch paper she had been working on just minutes earlier. The delicate ink lines blurred, much like the way her thoughts felt right now—smudged and messy.
She didn't wipe the tear away.
She simply stood there, letting the silence sink in.
Daniel. Her ex-husband. The man she had spent years loving, supporting, and building a life with, had just looked her in the eye and offered her a maid's job in their old house. As if everything she had done, all the sacrifices she made, meant nothing. As if her worth had vanished the moment she walked away from his life.
A maid.
In the house she once called her home.
Her lips trembled, and she let out a shaky breath. The nerve. After betraying her. After raising someone else's child as her own. After lying to her face for years. He still thought he had the right to walk in here and act as if he was doing her a favor.
Her knees felt weak, so she pulled out the stool behind her desk and sat down slowly.
She looked around the studio—the clean walls, the racks of fabric she had just organized, her sewing machine, and the half-completed gown on the mannequin in the corner. It was hers. All of it.
This place may have been small, but it was built with her hands, her hard work, and her dream. Not his.
And then there was Elias.
He had stood up for her. Again.
Not once had he raised his voice, but his words had cut through Daniel's insults like a blade of truth. Elias had seen her. Not as someone's ex-wife. Not as a failure. But as a woman with value, with talent, with strength.
Maya closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
No more tears, she told herself. No more looking back.
Still, her heart ached. The things Daniel had said weren't just cruel—they were a reminder of how little he had ever truly believed in her.
"Out of touch with society." "Stay home as the maid." "Can't support yourself."
Had he always thought that way? Had every sweet word he once said been nothing but a cover for how he really saw her?
She pressed her hand over her chest, trying to calm the storm inside her.
The door opened slightly. For a moment, she thought someone had returned, but it was only the wind. She walked over, shut it gently, and locked it behind her. This space was hers now, and she wasn't going to let anyone come in and shake her again.
She needed to stay focused.
There was still the gown for Elias's grandmother to finish. It was her first big job since reopening, and she had promised herself she'd do it perfectly.
But her hands refused to move.
Instead, her thoughts wandered—back to Jamie.
When Daniel had mentioned his name, her chest tightened. That little boy, the one she had raised as her own… Did he really miss her?
Or was Daniel just using him to guilt her?
She didn't know anymore. Ever since Lena returned, Jamie had changed. He had become distant. Closer to Lena. More cold toward Maya. Maybe it wasn't his fault. Maybe he could feel that Maya wasn't his real mother. Maybe blood really did speak louder than love.
She had loved him like her own.
But now, her own child was missing somewhere in the world. Lost. Alone. Or worse—unloved.
Her heart clenched again.
She would find him. No matter what it took.
Her gaze returned to her desk. On top of it sat the business card Elias had left earlier with his assistant's number. She picked it up gently and stared at the neat writing. His last words echoed in her mind:
"You're capable of so much more than they made you believe, Maya."
A soft breath escaped her lips.
Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to believe in herself again.
She grabbed a clean sheet of paper and began sketching.
The lines came to life—long flowing fabric, soft curves, and detailed lace. The dress design started to take shape, elegant and graceful. Just like the kind of woman she wanted to be.
Strong.
Independent.
Unapologetically herself.
She worked until the afternoon sun began to fade. Her fingers were sore, but her heart felt steadier than it had all day.
Later that evening, she stepped outside to clear her head. The breeze was cool against her face. She took a short walk, stopping by a small café on the corner to grab a cup of tea.
She sat alone by the window, watching people walk by.
Couples holding hands. Children laughing. Life moving on.
Her life would too.
She sipped her tea slowly and let herself imagine a future where she was free from the shadows of her past. Where she ran a successful studio. Where she smiled without pain in her chest. Where she found her child. Where she found herself.
When she got back to the studio, the sky was darker, but her heart was a little lighter.
Maya flipped the "Closed" sign on the door and took one last look around. There was still so much work to do, but she had taken the first step.
She turned off the lights and whispered to herself, "This time, I'm choosing me."
And she meant it.