Chapter 7
The dazzling nightscape of the city spread out like an endless glittering canvas. My new landlord and his family, all locals, had welcomed me with warmth and kindness.
For a newcomer like me, finding such considerate hosts felt like a stroke of rare fortune.
If I hadn’t brought it up myself, no one would have guessed that the young woman before them, seemingly carefree, had already endured a failed marriage. At twenty–five, my life had traversed peaks and valleys that felt more like the plot of a sprawling novel than reality.
In this unfamiliar city, I had chosen to start anew, embracing the nickname “HL” as I re–entered the world of fashion design.
Once, not so long ago, I had dreamed of crafting the perfect suit for Bruce with my own hands. Yet, the memory of our wedding remained starkly different—hasty, bare–bones, and devoid of any real warmth.
He had worn a bespoke designer suit, chosen without so much as consulting me. The entire process had been overseen by Kathy. That same day, the media buzzed with rumors of the Blue Ocean Group president’s alleged affair. Bruce never addressed the speculation, not publicly nor privately.
Seated by the floor–to–ceiling window, I let my thoughts drift. The twilight’s warm hues bathed me as I put the finishing touches on a design sketch.
“Perhaps… no one will ever wear this,” I murmured under my breath.
“Why would you say that?” A deep, magnetic voice cut through my reverie.
Startled, I looked up to find a strikingly handsome man standing before me, the sunlight framing him like an artist’s rendering of perfection.
Awkwardly, I managed a small laugh. “Just a casual thought. Marriage doesn’t feel all that significant to me
anymore.‘
Harvey Baxter, my landlord’s son and a professor at Shayle City Design Academy, pulled out a chair and settled beside me, his gaze fixed intently on my sketch.
“Why let the actions of a heartless man rob you of faith in love?” he asked with quiet conviction. “If anything, having been hurt should make you braver in seeking true happiness.”
His words brought a small smile to my lips. “You say that now, but wait until life knocks you around a bit. Once your heart’s been broken a few times, you’ll understand.”
Harvey seemed unbothered by my cynicism. As one of the youngest professors at the academy, he was no stranger to admiration. His admirers stretched, as rumors went, from this city all the way to the capital.
“Hailey,” he said, his tone teasing yet tender, “you remind me of an angry kitten, fur bristling as it licks its
wounds.”
I stared at him, unsure how to respond. His warm gaze held a quiet understanding I didn’t expect.
