Page 64 of Crossing Lines

And the thing is, Iwantto help him. I want to be a part of this world he’s offering, to see my designs come to life in a way I’ve only dreamed of. But I’m scared. Scared because if I step into the opportunity, there’s always a risk that Mom will find out. But… The team adds a layer of anonymity. No one would know I’m the designer, and this might be the only way I can sell my designs.

It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to dream about this—to really, truly imagine what it would feel like to succeed—that the possibility feels like a trick. Like if I reach for it, it’ll vanish, and I’ll be left cleaning up the mess.

And then there’s Evren. We’re not just working together; we’resomething.He’s older, wealthier, and powerful in a way I’ve never known. In a way I’ve never had. He can offer me everything, and that scares me more than anything else.

Because if I take this, if I step into his world, the imbalance between us widens. He’ll be the one giving, and I’ll be the one... What? Taking? Needing? I’ve spent so long fighting for independence, for control over the chaos Mom brings, that the idea of needing someone—especiallyhim—terrifies me.

Needing perspective, I grab my phone and call Elodie.

“Hey, babe,” she answers on the second ring.

“Hi…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” I sit on my bed. “I think Evren’s gong to offer me a job and I’m terrified.”

“What kind of job?”

I go on to explain about his apparel line, the current issues, and the sponsor. And then, without meaning to, I blurt out, “And we kissed. A few times.”

“Wait, was the kiss good?”

“That’swhat you want to know out of all of that?”

“Well, that might be the most important part.”

“Ugh, fine. It was mind-blowingly fantastic. And I think we’re kind of together?” I can hear her grin, and I sigh. “But that doesn’t matter right now. I don’t know what to do about his possiblejob offer.”

“Um, yeah, you do. You want to accept.”

“How do you know?” I ask, because I don’t even know the answer to that.

“Babe, I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, but you’re fucking energized while talking about the line. You already have ideas; I can hear it in your voice. This is the most excited I’ve heard you in a while, and I think that means you need to accept. And let’s be real, if you don’t take this opportunity, you’ll just waste your life helping me at the bakery, but that’s not needed. I’m hiring more people.”

“But I’m scared,” I whisper.

“So? That’s normal. Do you think I wasn’t scared to pretend to be Stella? To perform in front of thousands of people? I wanted to shit my pants. Even thinking I could do it or be good at it was laughable. But sometimes, well, to be honest, most of the time, you have to go out of your comfort zone to reach your dreams.”

“But what’s the point of reaching for dreams if I might fail?” My voice wavers as doubt after doubt attacks me. What if people hate the designs? What if I put everything I have into this and it’s not enough? What if Mom finds out? What if she demands her share and never leaves me alone? And what if Evren changes his mind about me? What if I can’t handle mixing work with…whateverthisis between us? It’s already so uneven. I’m walking a tightrope. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down.

“Because,” Elodie says gently, “it’s not about reachingit, but more in becoming a person who dares to dream. Every step you take towards what you want, no matter how small, is a step away from the fear that holds you back. And that’s the point. To show yourself, over and over again, that fear doesn’t get to decide your future, but you do.”

I let the words sink in, feeling them unravel inside me like a spool of thread slowly coming undone.When I called her, I wasn’t expecting her to say something that resonated so deeply and for it to fundamentally shift my perspective.

I don’t want to live my life dictated by fear.

It’s not until this moment that I realize how much I’ve let my doubts box me in. I’ve spent so long trying to protect everyone from Mom that I’ve never truly allowed myself to hope, to dream that I could have more. But now? It’s like something stirs inside me—a spark, a defiance.

What if I could be more than my fear? What if I could learn to live alongside it, instead of letting it steer my every move? The thought is almost laughable, but it’s enough.

I take a breath and feel my lungs fill with something new. Hope. Courage. A stubborn determination that maybe—just maybe—I can do this. There’s a quiet power to admitting that, and to admitting that I want this too. This dream of mine to design clothes people enjoy is quickly becoming a rebellious little flame that refuses to be snuffed out deepwithin my soul.

“Holy shit,” I say. “Way to change my whole perspective on everything.”

“Glad that helped,” Elodie says smugly.

“I know what to do now.”

---