The sun rising over the Rosedale skyline was another another day for Styler and Elena and also the first day of a blueprint that had nothing to do with corporate mergers or high-society expectations. In their modest third-floor apartment, the air was thick with the scent of fresh-pressed coffee and the frantic, joyful energy of two women who were about to consolidate their lives into a single, unbreakable promise.
Styler sat at the small wooden dining table, three different planners spread out before her. Beside her, Elena was pinning a series of fabric swatches to a corkboard—velvets, silks, and a particularly hardy linen that could withstand a spilled glass of apple juice from Leo or Sophia.
