a P

re expensive, undoubtedly. But to me, they were just objects, devoid of the power t

r. Value, minimal," I said, my voice flat, professional. "The necklace has decent clarity, but the

perience in the vintage couture market. "My prices a

tebook I held. "You're... you're doing this now?" His voice was thic

, or not? If not, I have other appointments." I wanted them out. Out of my stor

ing my forearm. "Elia, wait." His touch sent a jolt

ess of my right index finger, then trailed to the faint scar tissue o

ed, his voice barely au

ture. They were the tools of a prodigious talent, once recognized with accolades and awards, now

t, had shattered more than just bones. It had shattered my career, my identity. And he, Christian, had been there. He had cho

physical therapy. This is the best it'll get. At least I can still use it for basic

e back of my store. "Now, if you'll excuse

name again, his v

, but did

face was a mask of feigned pity, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Elia, don't be so proud. If you're really struggling, we c

ce of pure, unadulterated charity. "It's for a good c

ty and confusion in their depths. "Gidget's right, Elia. We

"I don't need your help. Or your pity. And I c

walked back into the quiet sanctuary of my boutique, leaving them sta

Everyone says they're practically saints, a real-life fairytale. He's so devoted to her, especially after what she went through, you know, with her 'abusive family trauma'." Maya gestured va

, sharp, and entir