Chapter 5

Chloe's POV

The first dry run of the SoHo exhibition was scheduled at the old factory's central warehouse.

This place was where my mother had worked when she was a young designer.

After she passed, I rarely came back.

But for this project, I had loaned my company her vintage tailor rulers, leather swatches, and handwritten journals. I wanted people to see the beauty of the old craftsmanship.

During the dry run, Vivian stood on the stage, reciting my opening remarks.

"Every vintage piece is not waste. They are simply pushed into the shadows by time..."

Standing in the crowd, a sharp pain flared in my stomach.

Vivian delivered the lines with practiced emotion, but she mispronounced the basic leather terms my mother had coined. Several retired craftsmen sitting in the front row frowned, their faces turning grim. Mr. Davis frantically approached me, begging, "Chloe, please. Go up there and save the pitch."

I didn't budge.

Austin walked over, whispering in my ear, "You know this part best. Go up and help her."

I looked at him. "Isn't she the lead?"

"Chloe, stop being childish. Not now."

"I'm not being childish." I looked at the stage. "I'm just letting the lead present her own work."

On stage, Vivian completely froze. She looked at Austin, tears pooling in her eyes. Austin instinctively took a step toward the stage, but the museum curator stood up first.

"Miss Vivian, you mentioned this vintage tailor ruler belonged to your grandmother?"

My head snapped up.

Vivian hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Yes... she used it to support our family back in the day."

That ruler was my mother's most precious possession.

Blood rushed to my ears. I walked straight up to the stage, took the ruler out of the display case, and looked Vivian dead in the eye. "Vivian. Say it again. Whose is this?"

Vivian's face drained of color.

Austin was stunned. "Vivian?"

Vivian immediately burst into tears. "I didn't mean to! The script wasn't clear, I thought it was just a generic story we were using for the brand! Chloe, don't be so mean... I really didn't know it was your mother's!"

I turned to Austin. "Hear that? She can't even memorize the story she stole."

Austin's face was incredibly tense, but his first instinct was still to step in front of Vivian. "We'll discuss this back at the office."

"No." I put the ruler back into my box. "We discuss it here. I am officially pulling out of the SoHo project. My mother's legacy, my drafts, and my personal items are leaving this building right now."

Mr. Davis panicked. "Chloe, don't do this! The exhibition has already been approved by the city board!"

"That sounds like a 'you' problem."

I hugged the wooden box of my mother's things and turned to walk out. Vivian ran after me, grabbing my sleeve. "Chloe, please! I really didn't mean to! You're going to ruin the entire project!"

I jerked my arm back to get away from her.

But Vivian lost her footing, slipping and crashing straight into the temporary lighting rig beside the stage.

The rig wobbled violently, and a heavy, rusted metal sign came crashing down. Instinctively, I curled my body to protect my mother's box. But my lower abdomen slammed hard against the sharp edge of the display counter.

A sharp, blinding pain exploded deep inside my belly.

My face went completely white.

Warm blood began to run down my legs.

By the time Austin rushed over, I was too weak to stand. He reached out to cradle me, but I used every ounce of my remaining strength to push him away.

"Don't touch me."

Austin froze, his hands trembling in the air.

Clutching my mother's wooden box, I slid down to the cold floor.

I saw Vivian standing a few feet away, her face filled with horror, but she didn't step forward.

When the wail of the siren echoed outside, my vision finally went black.

I realized then that love doesn't always die slowly.

Sometimes, it is stomped into the dirt, over and over, until there is nothing left to save.

Before the ambulance doors slammed shut, Austin finally caught up, panting.

I had never seen him look so terrified. He kept reaching out, trying to grasp my hand.

But the paramedics blocked him. Maya stood in his way, her eyes wild with anger.

"Get the hell away from her!" Maya screamed at him. "Now you care? Where was this urgency when you were busy protecting Vivian?"

Austin's lips parted, but not a single sound came out.

Inside the ambulance, the pain kept dragging me into unconsciousness, but I refused to let go of the wooden box.

The paramedic tried to take it, but I shook my head fiercely. That box held my mother's tools, her designs, and the last piece of myself I had left.

Outside, Vivian was being comforted by a coworker, weeping softly.

She kept saying she didn't mean to, but her very first question wasn't about me. It was asking Austin if he was mad at her. Everyone heard it.

The lights of the old factory faded in the distance. The banner outside still read: New Life for Old Things. But what I lost in that warehouse would never have a new life.

In the ambulance, the doctor asked if I had any family members present. Maya immediately grabbed my hand. "I'm her family."

I couldn't speak, but a tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

For six years, I thought Austin was my home.

But when my world fell apart, the one standing in front of the storm wasn't my fiancé. It was my best friend.

Maya squeezed my hand tightly. "Don't you dare close your eyes, Chloe. Stay with me. You have to get through this, so we can watch those two rot in hell."

I tried to nod, but only a faint gasp escaped my lips.

The nurse finally took the wooden box and handed it to Maya for safekeeping.

As my eyes closed, the doctor's warning flashed through my mind: Keep your stress low. I had tried so hard to stay steady. But they had pulled the rug right out from under my feet.