Elena
I stood at the window of the Tuscany studio, watching the familiar cobblestones below and the hills rolling in the distance, and felt a tangle of emotions.
Five years. Five whole years. This town had taken in my broken heart. It had watched Stella be born. It had seen me build Stella from nothing into a brand. Every street, every café, every corner held a memory of me and my daughter.
"Mom, what were you looking at?" Stella ran over and wrapped her arms around my leg.
"The town." I crouched and pulled her into my lap. "We lived here for five years. I'm a little sad to leave. This was our first home. You were born here. You learned to walk here. You spoke your first words here. I built my studio here. I made friends."
"But Daddy and Mommy were born in New York, right?" Stella said seriously. "Daddy says New York has really tall buildings and the Statue of Liberty."
"Yeah." Warmth stirred in my chest. "Your dad and I were both born in New York. It's where we met."
"When are we going to New York? I want to go to where Mom and Dad met!" she squealed.
"In a month," I told her.
Anna would keep running the studio while I moved Stella's headquarters to New York. It hadn't been an easy decision. Leaving Tuscany meant leaving the comfort and the safe harbor I'd spent five years building. But staying would mean being apart from Igor, Stella missing her father every day, our family always half a world apart.
Besides, the Stella brand had outgrown Tuscany. Milan, Paris, and London orders were piling up. Staying would choke its growth. New York was the real center—there I could reach more people, bigger markets, better resources.
"Awesome!" Stella cheered. "I'm bringing all my toys."
She bounced off, and I looked down at the corner of the plans where the designer had carved out a tiny nook on the third floor filled with children's furniture, toys, and picture books—a corner for Stella. My fingers lingered over the drawing.
"Elena." Anna came in carrying a stack of files. "These are the New York fit-out plans. They need your signature."
"Let me see." I took the files and sat at the desk.
Igor had bought a three-story building in SoHo, perfect for the brand. Industrial, minimalist, big windows for light, open workspaces for collaboration, and a dedicated showroom for buyers. He'd even insisted on that little children's corner. I had to admit he'd paid attention.
Anna's voice caught. "I'm really going to miss you."
She had been by my side for five years. Her eyes were red. I stood and hugged her. "I'll miss you too. But this isn't goodbye. We'll be back a lot. I trust you to run the studio—you've been my strongest assistant. Without you, there wouldn't be a Stella."
"Really?" she wiped at her eyes.
"Of course." I squeezed her hand. "I need you here the way I need to go to New York. We're a team, right?"
She nodded hard and finally smiled. "We are a team. Go do your thing. I'll take care of this place."
We hugged again, and this time it felt powerful, not sad.
A month later, we landed back in New York. When the plane touched down at Kennedy Airport, my chest tightened. Five years earlier, I had left from this same terminal with a shattered heart and tears in my eyes. Now I came back with my daughter, a successful business, and a man who loved me.
"Welcome home, baby," Igor said, holding my hand.
"I'm back." I let the words sink in.
"Daddy! Mommy! Look at all the tall buildings! They're so much taller than in Tuscany!" Stella pointed out the window, eyes shining. "Are we really living here?"
"Of course," Igor said, lifting her up. "This will be our home."
I stroked Stella's hair. "We're starting a new life here."
The next few weeks were busy and full. I adjusted to a new office, supervised the fit-out, and balanced business on both sides of the ocean. Stella settled into a new kindergarten, made new friends, and adapted to a new pace. Igor shouldered more of the load—school runs, helping Stella settle, cooking dinners on nights I worked late. By then, his cooking could hold its own.
One afternoon at the New York headquarters, I felt lightheaded. My new office looked over SoHo and the Manhattan skyline—familiar and strange at once.
