Seven Years of Love Disappeared with the Wind

I was organizing the rejected sketches when Lawrence occasionally complimented me and shared some important news.

He had known since childhood that I loved fashion design, so he studied in Paris and made a name for himself there.

Now, as the head of the domestic branch, he was preparing to host a fashion week and could nominate one contestant.

"Stella, I can only put you forward for the competition. To maintain its credibility, the rest is up to you."

My studio had gained some recognition in Arico, leaving a mark on many even after relocating.

That evening, I chose to stay at the studio. Lawrence hesitated for a moment, then looked at me with hopeful eyes.

"Stella, my apartment isn't ready yet, and my parents' house feels far. Could you let me stay here, just this once?"

His voice trailed off to a whisper.

I couldn't help but smile; Lawrence, who had always wanted to shield me, looked adorably vulnerable.

"Alright, you can stay," I replied.

Joy lit up his eyes, filled with deep affection, wrapping around me like warm water.

As I lay on the studio bed, I gazed out at the bright moon hanging quietly in the sky. The moon was watching me, yet it never disturbed my life.

That calming tranquility made me glance at the silhouette on the couch.

When I remembered that the sheets were chosen by Lawrence, it ignited a warmth within me.

I drifted into a sweet dream. The next morning, I woke to the sound of the doorbell.

Looking around, I realized Lawrence was gone. Assuming he had forgotten his keys during his morning jog, I rubbed my tangled hair and opened the door.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my wrist, pushing me into the living room and pinning me against the couch where Lawrence had slept.

I snapped to attention, shocked to see Maurice standing there.

"Maurice, have you lost your mind? Let me go!"

My protests fell on deaf ears as he held me firmly, immobilizing me.

Maurice looked disheveled, with bloodshot eyes and a scruffy jaw, his suit wrinkled.

I had never seen him so unkempt, nor with such frenzied determination.

"Stella, I haven't lost my mind. Come back home with me."