Then a door across the hall cracked open.
“I called the police!” our neighbor yelled through the small opening. “You better leave!”
Kodi finally stopped fighting us, but his chest was heaving. His eyes darted between me, Joi, and the neighbor’s door.
“Leave,” Joi snapped as I fought tears.
Finally, he cursed under his breath and took off down the hall.
The door shut across the hall.
Joi and I stood there catching our breath, hearts pounding. That’s when I felt the air against my thigh and looked down. My dress was torn from the hip down. The fabric hung in a jagged split. I knew my makeup had smudged from sweat and tears that were now falling.
I stared at the dress for a second, and then I started full-on crying.
I knew for sure then that my mascara had streaked, foundation was smeared, and lipstick was gone. “Look at this! What am I going to do?! I’m going to be so late.”
Joi grabbed my shoulders. “Look at me.”
I shook my head, crying harder.
“This is what he wanted,” Joi fussed. “He wanted to make you upset. He wanted you distracted. He wanted to ruin this night.” She grabbed my chin gently and forced me to look at her. “We are not giving him that.”
I sniffed, trying to breathe. “We will fix the dress and your face. You are still going to that show. And you are still going to shine. You gotta do this. Bitches like us don’t get opportunities like this. So, it’s not supposed to be easy. It wouldn’t be right if there wasn’t an obstacle in your way, but you gotta make it happen anyway. Okay?!”
My chest rose and fell unevenly.
“This is the biggest night of your life,” Joi continued. “And Kodi does not get to own it.”
I swallowed hard and wiped my face.
She was right.
He didn’t get to take this from me.
Thankfully, I’d bought more than one dress. The second option wasn’t my first choice, but it would have to do. It was a deep emerald satin gown that hugged my waist and fell straight to the floor. The neckline was high and elegant, and the fabric caught the light in a way that still felt expensive.
Joi worked quickly to fix my makeup because my shaky hands wouldn’t allow me to do it myself. While she did, I was getting back-to-back calls from Sincere and Aria. I could not bring myself to tell either of them what had just happened. I could not imagine explaining that kind of ghetto chaos and drama to them.
When I pulled up to Voss, I sat in the car for a moment and stared at the building.
It seemed like it was glowing. Warm light poured out onto the sidewalk. Valets moved around the front quickly. Women in heels stepped out of black cars. Men in tailored suits adjusted cufflinks and watches. The energy felt rich and important.
Inside, the gallery took my breath away. Aria had transformed the space into something stunning. My work was the main feature, mounted along the primary walls under intentional lighting. The gold accents in my pieces shimmered against the white walls. Around my canvases, Aria had curated other mom-centered works that complemented mine without overshadowing them.
The room was full of local influencers, art buyers, media crews, Voss staff circulating with champagne, board members, Aria and Legend, Icon and Livia, and Sincere.
Sincere stood near the center of the gallery, watching the door. When his eyes finally found mine, something shifted inhim. His posture softened just slightly. The hard business focus left his face. His mouth curved into something so warm and loving.
And just like that, my anxiety dissolved. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been holding myself together until that moment. The noise faded. The people blurred. The only thing that felt clear was the way he looked at me, so proud already.
And he looked at me like I was his. And that look alone made me stand a little taller.
After the greetings and introductions, it was time for the live painting.
They positioned my easel in the center of the gallery. A fresh canvas stood in front of me. My hands trembled at first. Then I dipped my brush into the paint, and the noise around me faded. Art had always been my therapy. It had always been the place I went when life became too loud. As I layered strokes of deep browns, warm golds, and bold reds, my breathing steadied. The tension from earlier disappeared. Kodi disappeared. The shame disappeared.
It was just me and the canvas. I forgot about the crowd until I felt his eyes on me. Sincere stood off to the side, watching intently. And I will admit I wanted him to be proud. I wanted him to see what I could do. I wanted him to know that choosing to support me was not a mistake.
