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Chapter 8: The Proposal
Last Updated:
2025-11-10 18:32:04
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SHARDS OF US - sculptor turned heiress forbidden love Chapter 10: The Kiss
The night air was thick when she stepped out of the car. Somewhere behind her, laughter from the investor dinner echoed. She needed space, air, anything that didn’t smell like performance.Her heels clicked against the cobblestones as she crossed the courtyard toward the studio. She hadn’t planned to come here, hadn’t planned anything, she just found herself tracing muscle memory, needing clay, silence, and her own pulse.When she pushed the door open, the familiar scent hit her: dust, rain, old art, and the faint memory of his cologne still clinging to the corner where he’d once stood.The lights flickered on. The sculpture she’d left unfinished sat on the workbench: fractured, fragile, almost human. Like she was.She pulled her coat tighter. Her engagement ring glinted.Rae set it on the counter beside her tools.She wanted to lose herself in the sound of the wheel, in the rhythm of shaping chaos into form. But the moment her hands touched clay, her control slipped. Tears came withou
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RaeMorning light seeped through the penthouse windows, cruel in its honesty.The diamond on her finger glittered on the coffee table where she’d dropped it the night before, next to a half-empty glass of wine. It looked obscene now, like a trophy for surrender.Ethan was gone before sunrise. A note in his neat handwriting sat on the counter:Meeting downtown. Be perfect tonight at the investor’s dinner. Love, E.She read it twice before crumpling it in her fist.The city below moved fast, indifferent, alive. Inside, everything in her chest felt still, too still. She turned away from the view, from the ring, from the reflection of the woman who didn’t look like her anymore. The studio key in her purse caught her attention, cool against her fingers. Maybe clay would make more sense than people did.But before she could leave, her phone buzzed.Lila’s name flashed.“Tell me you’re okay,” her friend said the second Rae answered.“I’m fine.”“Don’t lie. The internet’s still replaying that
SHARDS OF US - sculptor turned heiress forbidden love Chapter 8: The Proposal
Rae had attended a hundred events like this, but tonight her skin felt wrong inside her gown, like she was wearing someone else’s life. The ballroom gleamed in gold. Chandeliers threw light like captured fire, scattering it across glassware, sequined dresses, and too many smiles. Cameras flashed in every direction, the hum of wealth and ambition vibrating under the music.She caught Ethan’s hand resting too casually on her lower back. His charm was impeccable the practiced ease of a man who knew the room belonged to him. She smiled when the photographers called their names, smiled again when someone asked about the wedding, and kept smiling even when her heart fluttered like a caged thing.Across the room, Dane stood near the bar, suit sharp, expression colder than the champagne in his glass. He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, not at their announcement party. Except it wasn’t supposed to be an announcement party. Rae thought it was a corporate celebration, a small merger dinner
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The studio smelled like earth and rain. Damp clay, faint oil paint, and the ghost of something softer something that reminded Rae of before. Before the fallouts, before the boardrooms and glass ceilings that reflected only the pieces of who she used to be.It was late, long past midnight, and the city outside her windows pulsed with life she couldn’t touch. The only sound inside was the steady scrape of her hands over wet clay. She didn’t know what she was shaping, only that she couldn’t stop.The sculpture had started as something abstract a faceless curve, a fragment of motion but somewhere between exhaustion and ache, it had become the suggestion of a man. Broad shoulders. A tilt of the jaw she knew too well.Her fingers froze.“Damn it,” she whispered, pressing her palms into the clay until it lost its form.A knock cut through the quiet. Once. Then again low, insistent.Rae’s pulse tripped. Nobody ever came here. Not her mother, not the PR vultures who pretended to manage her ima
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The ballroom glowed with the kind of light that made everything look effortless. Chandeliers scattered gold across polished marble; champagne shimmered in crystal flutes; conversation rippled like silk. The charity gala was Ethan’s masterpiece, part fundraiser, part social spectacle and Rae, as always, was meant to be the centerpiece.Her reflection caught in the mirrored pillars, hair swept in soft waves, gown a whisper of ivory satin. She looked composed, elegant, perfect. Unreal.“Smile,” Ethan murmured, his hand sliding to the small of her back. His voice was velvet over steel. “You’re the reason half these people showed up.”Rae obeyed. Her smile appeared on cue, graceful and easy, though her stomach felt hollow. She had learned long ago how to perform happiness in public and how to look radiant while slowly unraveling inside.Across the ballroom, a low hum stirred her attention. Laughter, a ripple of movement, then a familiar voice, deeper now, rougher with age. Dane Mercer.H
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The apartment smells like lilies, Ethan’s choice, not hers.The flowers sit on the dining table in a perfect white vase, the kind that looks expensive and fragile, like everything else in their home.Rae stares at them while the rain hums against the glass walls, the city outside blurred into streaks of gold and gray. She’s still half in the boardroom. Dane's voice echoing in her head, sharp and steady.“Still sculpting?” “You’ve changed.”Her fingers drum against the counter.“Long day?” Ethan’s voice cuts through the fog. He stands by the kitchen island, shirt sleeves rolled up, a drink in his hand. His smile is easy too easy. The kind that doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.“You could say that,” Rae murmurs.He studies her for a moment, then sets the glass down and walks closer. “You look tense.”“I’m fine.”“You don’t look fine.”She forces a small smile. “You don’t have to fix everything, Ethan.”He chuckles, low and controlled. “It’s called caring, Rae. Some people appreciate th
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