Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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Mia, I sewed this myself—pricked my fingers more times than I can count. What you create is unmatched. Nothing in this world compares to you.
Ethan's words made my stomach churn. His sickeningly sweet act was nothing but a performance, all because my designs had helped him land that second male lead role. The moment someone better came along—someone like Linda—he tossed me aside without a second thought.
I snatched the clothes from his hands, tore them to shreds right in front of him, and dumped the scraps into the trash.
"Your sincerity is worthless. I don't want it."
Ethan stood there, stunned, watching me walk away. For once, he didn't chase after me.
Back at Sundora, I buried myself in work, sketching new designs for the pile of high-profile orders due by the end of the week. Sleep became a luxury—just a few stolen hours here and there.
Nathan noticed. Every day, he showed up with some gourmet lunch—abalone rice one day, freshly carved beef burgers the next—anything to keep me going.
A week later, Ethan's manager called.
"He's spiraling. Talking about quitting the industry."
I frowned. "And you're telling me this because…?"
The manager hesitated. "He still wants that brand deal. It'd be for him."
Before I could respond, Ethan's voice erupted in the background, followed by the sound of something shattering. "Stop calling her! What's the point? Look at my face!"
I hung up. I never wanted to hear his voice again.
Winter arrived in Sundora with the first snowfall. Linda had been committed to a psychiatric hospital, her mind shattered. Day after day, she raved, cursing Ethan's name.
Ethan's manager begged me relentlessly, but when it became clear I wouldn't budge, he gave up. A statement appeared on Ethan's Twitter—his abrupt exit from the industry, backed by the company, leaving him drowning in millions in contract termination fees.
Watching the snow pile up outside, inspiration struck. I grabbed Nathan and dragged him to the studio, sketching feverishly for hours.
"What do you think?"
Nathan's eyes lit up. "Promise me one thing—if this design takes off, I get the first set."
My brand soared. Soon, A-list celebrities were knocking on my door. I vetted them carefully, signed contracts, and saved enough to buy my own place. Through it all, Nathan never wavered.
I kept my promise—that first design? It was his. Only his. I just didn't tell him I'd made it exclusively for him.
When spring came, I finally stepped back from work. Inspiration needed life, not just a drafting table. Nathan understood, giving me a month's leave.
On the day of my trip, he called me to his studio. I arrived, suitcase in hand, and he pulled out a necklace—his own design.
Diamonds glittered in the shape of a crescent moon, wreathed in delicate clouds.
"Like it?" he asked.
"It's stunning."
He stepped behind me, fastening it around my neck. "It's yours. One of a kind."
I touched the cool gems, breath catching. Nathan smiled, his eyes brighter than the diamonds.
"What's it called?"
He hesitated, almost shy. "Sweet Dreams."
The name tugged at a memory. Last month, a reporter had asked me about my first suit's name. At the time, I couldn't remember.
But now, it came back to me.
"Yearning Boat."
Ethan's words made my stomach churn. His sickeningly sweet act was nothing but a performance, all because my designs had helped him land that second male lead role. The moment someone better came along—someone like Linda—he tossed me aside without a second thought.
I snatched the clothes from his hands, tore them to shreds right in front of him, and dumped the scraps into the trash.
"Your sincerity is worthless. I don't want it."
Ethan stood there, stunned, watching me walk away. For once, he didn't chase after me.
Back at Sundora, I buried myself in work, sketching new designs for the pile of high-profile orders due by the end of the week. Sleep became a luxury—just a few stolen hours here and there.
Nathan noticed. Every day, he showed up with some gourmet lunch—abalone rice one day, freshly carved beef burgers the next—anything to keep me going.
A week later, Ethan's manager called.
"He's spiraling. Talking about quitting the industry."
I frowned. "And you're telling me this because…?"
The manager hesitated. "He still wants that brand deal. It'd be for him."
Before I could respond, Ethan's voice erupted in the background, followed by the sound of something shattering. "Stop calling her! What's the point? Look at my face!"
I hung up. I never wanted to hear his voice again.
Winter arrived in Sundora with the first snowfall. Linda had been committed to a psychiatric hospital, her mind shattered. Day after day, she raved, cursing Ethan's name.
Ethan's manager begged me relentlessly, but when it became clear I wouldn't budge, he gave up. A statement appeared on Ethan's Twitter—his abrupt exit from the industry, backed by the company, leaving him drowning in millions in contract termination fees.
Watching the snow pile up outside, inspiration struck. I grabbed Nathan and dragged him to the studio, sketching feverishly for hours.
"What do you think?"
Nathan's eyes lit up. "Promise me one thing—if this design takes off, I get the first set."
My brand soared. Soon, A-list celebrities were knocking on my door. I vetted them carefully, signed contracts, and saved enough to buy my own place. Through it all, Nathan never wavered.
I kept my promise—that first design? It was his. Only his. I just didn't tell him I'd made it exclusively for him.
When spring came, I finally stepped back from work. Inspiration needed life, not just a drafting table. Nathan understood, giving me a month's leave.
On the day of my trip, he called me to his studio. I arrived, suitcase in hand, and he pulled out a necklace—his own design.
Diamonds glittered in the shape of a crescent moon, wreathed in delicate clouds.
"Like it?" he asked.
"It's stunning."
He stepped behind me, fastening it around my neck. "It's yours. One of a kind."
I touched the cool gems, breath catching. Nathan smiled, his eyes brighter than the diamonds.
"What's it called?"
He hesitated, almost shy. "Sweet Dreams."
The name tugged at a memory. Last month, a reporter had asked me about my first suit's name. At the time, I couldn't remember.
But now, it came back to me.
"Yearning Boat."
End of Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For book page.