The Road Back to You

Violet barely made it to her cabin before the first tear slipped down her cheek. She shut the door behind her and pressed her back against it, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Ethan's disappointment echoed in her ears, sharp and unforgiving.

She had worked so hard. Poured herself into those designs. And yet, he had looked at her like she was nothing more than a careless intern.

A quiet knock on the door made her stiffen. But before she could respond, the door pushed open, and Maddie walked in, shutting it behind her with an infuriatingly smug smile.

"Well, well," Maddie mused, crossing her arms. "That didn't go too well for you, did it?"

"What do you want?" Violet lifted her chin, determined not to let her see how much it hurt. 

"Just wanted to check in on you. You looked a little… broken back there," Maddie laughed, a sound as sharp as glass. 

Violet clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

"You should've known better," Maddie continued, stepping closer. "Girls like you? You don't belong in places like this. You think you can stand next to someone like Ethan Sinclair?" She scoffed. "Please. You're just a sloppy little artist with nothing but daydreams."

Violet's breath hitched, but she refused to let Maddie see her waver.

"You'll never have him. Not in the way you wish you could. Ethan belongs with someone of his own class. Someone like me," Maddie leaned in, lowering her voice. 

Violet's throat burned, but she kept her lips pressed together, refusing to give Maddie the satisfaction of a response.

With a satisfied smirk, Maddie turned on her heel, heading for the door. Just before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder. "Maybe you should quit while you're ahead, darling. Spare yourself the inevitable heartbreak." And with that, she was gone.

The moment the door clicked shut, Violet crumbled. She sank into her chair, pressing her hands against her face as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. She wasn't even sure what hurt more, the words or the realization that some part of her believed them.

She didn't notice that, just across the hall, Ethan was watching.

His office, much like hers, had glass walls. And through them, he could see her; her shoulders trembling, her hands wiping furiously at her tears. His stomach twisted at the sight.

Without thinking, he grabbed a handkerchief and walked to her cabin. He knocked gently before stepping inside.

Violet stiffened when she saw him, hurriedly brushing away her tears.

Ethan said nothing at first. He simply walked over and placed the handkerchief on her desk.

She stared at it, but didn't take it. Instead, she reached for her own sleeve, wiping away the remnants of her tears before standing.

"I'm fine," she muttered, voice hoarse.

"Why were you crying?" Ethan's brows furrowed. 

Violet's grip on the edge of her desk tightened. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for answers she wasn't willing to give.

"It's nothing," she said, brushing past him.

Ethan didn't stop her. He only watched as she walked away, disappearing down the hall.

That night, Violet sat on her bed, staring at a half-finished canvas propped up against the wall. The colors were all wrong. Her mind was too clouded to paint properly.

She exhaled deeply, running a hand through her hair.

Maddie's words still echoed in her head, but she refused to let them define her. She had always known she wasn't like the others at Sinclair Architechural Firm. She wasn't born into money. She didn't have the connections. But she had talent. She had passion.

And she had dreams.

Her dream of opening her own art gallery had been buried beneath the weight of her current struggles, but tonight, as she sat alone with nothing but her thoughts, she let herself remember it.

Maybe Maddie was right about one thing, Ethan Sinclair wasn't her world. He couldn't be.

But art? That was something she could build for herself.

And once this project was over, she would finally make that dream a reality.