28. Gabriel #4
“What’s the project?” my mother asks, her tone curious as she leans forward slightly.
I glance at Alexis, letting her decide how much she wants to share. She hesitates for a moment, brushing a strand of coppery hair behind her ear.
“It’s called Fashion for All,” she says. “The idea is t-to spotlight inclusive fashion. Designs that work for people with disabilities or different body types. We’re using the platform to document the setup of our workshop here in LA.”
“That’s incredible,” Chloe comments. “It sounds like something the industry really needs.”
“Is the workshop close to opening?” asks Reid.
Alexis flushes, her blue eyes darting over to me as if seeking reassurance. Under the table, I rest my hand on her leg.
“Yes,” she says. “We’re courting a few small designers now, and our interview process is almost complete.”
“And are you doing a big event to open it up?” Ivy asks eagerly. “Ribbon-cutting, and all that?”
Alexis shakes her head. “Actually, we were going to do a soft launch. I want the whole thing to feel approachable for members of the community. I want them to feel like they can actually come to it, you know?”
Ivy nods. “Oh, sure, I get you. You don’t want to make a spectacle of it.”
“Exactly,” Alexis says. “It’s in a neighborhood away from downtown. I want to let it be part of that neighborhood.”
“That’s smart,” Tristan says, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re focusing on community integration rather than flash. Gives it authenticity.”
“Thanks,” Alexis replies, her voice still low but gaining confidence. “I think it’s important that people feel welcome. Fashion can be intimidating, but it really shouldn’t be. It should empower people, not exclude them.”
“That’s beautiful,” says Chloe.
“It really is,” I say, grinning. “The feedback on the app has already been great. People are excited about this, and it’s all because of her.”
Alexis flushes deeply, her freckles standing out against her pink cheeks. “It’s not just me,” she insists. “There’s a whole team working on this.” Her eyes are shining, and the passion is evident in her voice even as she tries to deflect the praise.
“Still,” my mother says with a smile, “it’s your vision that’s driving it. That’s something special.”
“I agree,” Tristan chimes in. “It sounds like it could have a real impact too.”
Reid nods. “I don’t know much about fashion—”
“That’s obvious,” Beckett interjects immediately, earning himself a scowl and a good-natured thump on the shoulder in return.
“I don’t know much about the fashion industry,” Reid amends. “But even I know that accessibility is a big issue.”
“That’s true,” Jackson adds, his tone thoughtful. “A lot of brands are just now starting to pay attention. Good ground to break.”
“She’s got a ton of great ideas.” I nudge Alexis with my arm. “You should see her sketches.”
“Oh, you’re a designer yourself?” Chloe asks, intrigued.
Alexis dips her head, avoiding eye contact, but I can see the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smile. “Yeah. I mean… I never studied design, or anything, but it’s a… a hobby.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” I insist. “She’s got a lot of talent.”
“I’d love to see your work sometime,” says Chloe. “Artist to artist.”
“Me too!” says Ivy enthusiastically.
Alexis glances up, her blue eyes flicking between Chloe and Ivy. She looks overwhelmed by the attention, struggling to absorb my family’s support. “I… I’d be happy to share it. Maybe once the workshop’s up and running, I’ll have more to show.”
Her gaze flits over to me, and I see a hint of vulnerability in her expression, like she’s not quite sure how to fully accept the encouragement. Still, there’s an energy about her, like she’s beginning to find her footing on unfamiliar ground. She looks happy. Excited.
It hits me hard just how significant this is for her. Her own family has never shown her that kind of appreciation. She’s been so used to being overlooked, treated as if her ideas don’t matter, but here, she’s receiving the recognition she deserves.
From the moment I first met her, even when I was less than thrilled about the circumstances of our arrangement, I’ve enjoyed watching her come into her own.
At first, she was so quiet, so hesitant around me.
Like she was constantly bracing for someone to dismiss her, to tell her she wasn’t good enough.
Early on, I thought that was because of me.
Because of how awkward our marriage was, and how uncomfortable I made her.
Over time, I’ve come to realize that she’s always been expected to minimize herself, to amplify her own doubts.
That’s what her family has done to her. Diminished her, made her feel small.
In my life, in this room, she looms large. There’s so much space for her to take up, and I want her to grow into every inch of it.
I never thought that it would happen, never meant for it to happen, but I’m starting to get attached to her. No, more than that. I’m truly, deeply captivated by her. She’s gotten under my skin in a way I can’t undo.
And the idea of losing her sends a sharp pang through my chest.