Lili
She places the phone face down, resisting the urge to check it again. “I knew collaborating with an influencer would be good for business. But now I’ve got strangers dissecting every stitch.”
Boots watches Lili over the rim of her iced coffee. “What are they saying?”
Lili flips the phone back over, scrolling through it: This collection reeks of colonial fetishism. Another designer profiting off a culture she doesn’t belong to.
“They’re accusing me of appropriating Creole culture. All because I was inspired by my trip to the Seychelles. Three years ago.”
“People love being offended,” Boots says, flipping her hand. “Especially in the comments section. Losers.”
Lili sets the phone back down. “I don’t want to dismiss it. But I wasn’t stealing. I was celebrating something that moved me. I was inspired.”
“Are any of these so-called critics even your customers?”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“I doubt it.”
“Then why let them live in your head?”
“I think I’m just… fragile right now,” Lili says. “After all that excitement, the stylist I mentioned? The one who DM’d me? She ghosted me. Why even reach out in the first place?”
“You have to grow thicker skin, babe. These people DM strangers like they take selfies. No thought, no follow-through.”
“Well, Casey was right in the end. And now he’s acting weird again.”
“What’s going on?”
“He’s always somewhere else. An excuse every time. I want to believe it’s just work, but…”
Boots waves off the hovering server, then sets her glass down like she’s bracing for impact. “Lili, you know I love you. So I’m going to be real. Don’t bury your head in the sand. We’ve seen this pattern before.”
“That was different. He’s under so much more pressure now.”
“Was it different?” Boots leans in, voice softer but no less firm. “You knew then. You know now.”
“I don’t know anything, Boots. And I’m not looking for proof to justify my fear. I don’t want to live in a constant state of suspicion. That kind of marriage corrodes everything. It’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to me. What I want is a way to believe, even when I don’t feel certain. Does that make sense?”
Boots reaches across the table, giving Lili’s hand a squeeze. A moment.
“I’m not saying he’s cheating,” she says. “I’m saying you can’t afford to ignore your instincts.”
“Even if I knew what to believe, I don’t know if I have the strength to fight for this… for him… for us again.”
“Then maybe,” Boots adds, her tone gentler now, “start fighting for you.”