'I know the right kind of love

Doesn't wanna miss the future

By staying in the past

It will always hold on, but never hold you back

And even though it's not easy,

Right now, the right kind of love

Is a love that lets go, go.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

May 13, 2022.

"We have an emergency. A kid is missing, and he's already dressed," Serena announced, her French accent coming out with each word, sign that she was stressed. For the kid or the unique prototype from the new brand new Kiddom collection?

I couldn't translate it as she started cursing in her mother tongue, and it was enough from the little I understood of her complaining that they should have hired real models rather than 'replaying Oliver Twist with the local orphans' before she concluded with a 'we need to find him asap'.

'We' meant 'you' in my boss' language. 'You need to pick up samples on the other side of the city'. 'You need to finish the report for tomorrow morning'. 'You need to find a last-minute gift for the receptionist' newborn'...

So I quickly nodded and rushed out of the room, trying to think of spots where a kid would hide at a fancy charity gala.

The backstage area behind the small catwalk? No, there were already too many people searching here.

Under the tables of the large ballroom? No, too many sharp stilettos for the hideout to be comfortable.

The kitchen? I did check quickly in the storeroom, but after the chef and his wooden spoon urged me to exit, I quickly found myself in the lobby, where the rushed clicks of my high heels echoed around the empty space.

There were only two possibilities here: the glass door leading to the busy Brooklyn streets-and I heaved out a sigh of relief when I spotted the two security guards standing by it-or the checkroom counter. When a quiet sniffle arose from the latter, I didn't hesitate.

"Hey, is someone in there?" I stepped carefully behind the counter, my eyes needing an instant to adjust to the dimness and spot the small figure curled up under the clothes hanger. "You have a nice hut here. Can I join?"

The young boy didn't reply, only blinking his big glimmering eyes at me as he probably wondered if he should have trusted me, or maybe just if my tall legs would fit in the narrow corner, although the problem was more with the tightness of my black dress when he scooched on the side, leaving me some space.

"It's cozy indeed." I breathed out once I managed to sit down, taking in how heavy my legs were from running around all day. Yet, as tempting as it was to stay hidden here for the rest of the night or... forever, I quickly focused on the kid beside me, who from his round pouting face wasn't older than 8. "But isn't it a little... boring? Why aren't you with your friends for the show?"

"I can't," he finally spoke, even if his voice was barely above a whisper as he glanced from left to right. "I ripped my costume. It was an accident, but the scary woman said we gotta be careful and not ruin anything."

"Where?"

I didn't bother asking about the what or who, as I could easily picture who he was talking about. She was the reason why it took me a second to find reassuring words through the growing lump in my throat as he lifted his left arm, revealing a large tear along the side of his jacket.

"It's... fine. She doesn't have to know. Can you keep a secret?"

His eager nod was all the reply I needed as I helped him take off his jacket and pulled the emergency sewing kit out of my clutch purse.

"Good. Me too, and I can also repair this without anyone noticing," I explained as I started arranging the tear.

Thankfully, it was near the seam, so it wasn't too evident, and basic stitches should have been enough to last for the rest of the night, if this boy was as quiet as he looked. Though maybe it was only because he was entranced by the movements of my needle.

"Are you a fairy?"

"No, I wish... but it's just my job." I smiled in front of his shining eyes, which surely held more sparks than I would ever have in me. Well, before I added, "I work for the scary woman."

"Why? Does she force you?"

The momentary look of fear that crossed his young features was adorable and slightly unsettling.

"No, no, it's my choice because... it's my dream and I..." I was living it for my late boyfriend.

How to explain that to a kid, nevertheless? There was no word to put it smoothly, or at least, they wouldn't come out of my clogged throat. Oxygen barely could as I focused on my task at hand.

But of course, kids always pushed with their questions...

"You dream of working for her?"

"No, my dream is to design clothes for all children."

"And that's what you do?"

... Until you had your back to the wall and face to a mirror you didn't want to see.

"I... um, no, not yet. It takes time in fashion. Speaking of which... we don't have much left before the show, so let's go." I quickly looped the stitches, handing him back the jacket before he could come up with another interrogative.

Why did it take so much time? When would I finally become a fashion designer and realize my dream? What had I even accomplished so far? How could I climb the ranks under my boss' orders?

The questions already resonated in the back of my mind, even quieter than the boy's voice, and yet, as I led him out of his hideout, neither the clicks of my heels nor the faraway hubbub of chatters and piano from the ballroom, not even his 'thank you for the magical help' could silence the doubts. Nothing could, except...

"Asher!"

With this one name, everything stopped: my spiraling thoughts, my steps, my breath, maybe even the world from spinning.

The only things that remained were the woman calling his name on the other side of the hallway, the skip of my heart, and a shade of pale green my wide eyes searched blindly around. So blindly that I didn't notice the figure walking with their head down in my direction until I bumped into this person, their brisk gait making me stumble back.

Even so, the impact wasn't as strong as the one happening inside my chest with the next words from the woman across the room.

"Everyone was looking for you. Don't ever scare us like that again, Asher."

"I'm fine. I got lost going to the bathroom, but a fairy helped me." The young boy, whose name I realized I didn't know, joined the woman, his shiny hazel eyes finding mine for an instant.

He was Asher, like probably thousands of men and boys all over the world.

However, he wasn't my Asher, and I would find no sparkling shade of jade around the quiet lobby, in the whole building, in this city... in the entire planet.

After all this time, I should have known. I should have stopped looking. Yet it was stronger than me, like an invisible force pulling me in a leap of hope, the same one that had always drawn me to him. Only now, he wasn't on the other side tugging, and I always ended up on the ground, alone to pick up the pieces that grew smaller and smaller each time. I wasn't sure I could even find them all anymore.

"Are you okay, Miss?" A hand appeared in front of me, bringing me out of my stare at the shiny cold floor and up onto my feet, and before I could blink, I was face to face with a pair of brown orbs. "I'm sorry I was looking down at my phone, and I didn't see you."

"No, no, it's fine." I quickly averted my hand, snapping out of my stupor as the man's gaze washed over me like a splash of coffee. Unless it was because of the one all over his suit?

"Oh no, your shirt! I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault. My dad did warn me to never drink coffee just before giving a speech." He chuckled, surely trying to brush it off, but his words had the opposite effect, seeping in like the dark liquid on the delicate white fabric of his shirt as I swallowed harshly.

"You're the one giving the speech?"

If my boss had looked scary when it came to not damaging the new collection, I didn't dare imagine her reaction when she would learn I'd spilled coffee on one of the main speakers of the gala. Though the chill running down my spine was enough to put my legs into motion toward the checkroom.

At first, it was mostly an instinct to run and hide at the sight of the man trying to rub his shirt with his handkerchief, but I quickly got another idea.

"Don't touch the stain. You're going to worsen it," I called, even if my rushed movements had already made him stop as he observed me rummaging through the clothing rack.

"Are you sure we can go through the checkroom like this?"

"Don't worry, I'm searching for my scarf, which is... right here." I turned around with the piece of black fabric, already expecting to meet a dubious frown, although not so close, as he'd joined me behind the counter, and even as his eyebrows smoothed, I could catch the faintest crease between them, letting me guess he was just a few years older than me.

"Um, it should replace your stained tie and hide the coffee on your shirt. I promise it'll fit with your charcoal suit."

"I trust you." The hesitant line of his lips quickly broke into a smooth smile as he removed his tie and opened his arms wide to let me slide the scarf around his neck, his brown eyes following attentively each of my gestures. "Since you look very stylish."

"Um, thanks. I work in fashion, so I know a few things... and I should probably go back to work by the way." I waved my vibrating phone, where the word 'boss' was flashing, the dozen of missed notifications displayed there too making me step outside the counter without waiting for a reply.

Yet the man quickly followed me, catching up with my rushed pace. "Wait, I didn't even get to thank you."

"It's fine. You don't have to." I forced a smile, my brain more focused on finding my way back through the hallways, and the open door of the backstage room was already coming into view when his next words froze me in my steps.

"But I want to. Let me invite you for a drink after work maybe? That way, I could give you back your scarf too."

This time, I was the one struggling to catch up with him. Well, his invitation was rather clear. He had fair arguments; he was nice, and he was handsome. I'd stood close enough to him seconds ago to notice it. But I-

"Unless your boyfriend is picking you up?" he added, the question far from aimless, though he couldn't guess the hole it landed through inside my chest.

No, Asher wouldn't be picking up.

The only Asher in my life now was the young boy I glimpsed in the faraway backstage room, and even he disappeared from my view when someone closed the door. I barely caught the wave of his small hand, almost like a final goodbye... as I was left with the memories of our brief encounter, his haunting questions, and... the man in front of me, whose brown eyes were still fixed expectantly on me for an answer, my shaking head surely confusing him.

I was completely lost myself when I stammered, "Yes-no, I... okay, for the drink."

"Great!" His face instantly lit up with a charming smile, to which I didn't know what to reply.

However, what was even more disarming was his attitude in front of my silence.

"Uh, I'll let you go back to work, and I'll wait for you at the end of the gala, if you still want to go out, of course."

He didn't insist more, walking away after handing me his business card like an open invitation for me to decide if I wanted to go out-if I was ready to.

And any other day, I would have already thrown it away. Yet tonight a quiet voice that sounded a lot like the small boy I'd met minutes ago whispered a 'why not?' as I stared at the name written in formal letters.

Jordon Gims.

And that's how she met her fiancé... Thanks to Asher (even if not our Asher).

Did you expect this? 👀 Even when she thought he was dead, he was always with her, and he influenced her more than he imagined...

This chapter broke my heart so much, and with the song 'Love that lets go'... Who needs tissues too? 🤧🤧

Next chapter, we're coming back to the present, so get more tissues and popcorn ready 🤭🤫 and vote ⭐ if you can't wait!

In the meantime, I love you, my little peaches! Stay awesome! 🧡😘🥰✨