When the final look disappeared backstage, the crowd erupted into applause. The sound was deafening, the applause echoing off the walls of the venue, and Ellen stood at the back of the room, watching in disbelief. This was it. The moment she had worked for, fought for, was now here.

Her team rushed to her side, their faces bright with excitement. Maya pulled her into a hug. “You did it, Ellen. You did it!”

Tears welled in Ellen’s eyes. “We did it. All of us.”

Suddenly, someone from the front row stood and applauded, and then more followed, until the entire room was on its feet, clapping, cheering, and whistling. It was a standing ovation, one that felt like a dream come true. Ellen could hardly believe it. She had just made history.

But as the applause continued, Ellen’s eyes caught a familiar face in the crowd—Rick. He was standing at the back, his arms folded across his chest, watching her with a conflicted look. She could see the hint of regret in his eyes, a look she had never seen before. But there was also a flicker of pride. Maybe, just maybe, he was realizing what he had lost.

But Ellen didn’t have time to entertain that thought. She wasn’t doing this for him. She wasn’t doing this for anyone but herself.

As the applause died down and the crowd began to disperse, Leo came rushing toward her, a grin plastered on his face. “You killed it, Ellen. You’ve set a new standard in the industry.”

Ellen smiled back, her heart still racing. “This is just the beginning.”

The room was now buzzing with excitement. The fashion elite were already gathering around her, congratulating her on the collection. Ellen was finally being recognized—not just as a designer, but as someone who had changed the conversation about fashion. This was her legacy in the making.

As the night wore on, Ellen stood outside the venue, taking a breath in the cool night air. The city was alive, the streets still buzzing with energy from the show. She felt a deep sense of accomplishment, but also a quiet, burning resolve. This was her moment—her movement.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a message from Maya:

“You did it, Ellen. This is bigger than just fashion. You’ve created a movement.”

Ellen smiled to herself and texted back: “This is just the beginning.”

She looked out at the skyline, the city lights reflecting the future she was about to create—a future where her brand was more than just a clothing line. It was a force for change.

And no one, not even Rick and Alexis, could take that away from her.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was a message from her mother, Vivian.

“Sweetheart, let’s have a family dinner. Your father’s making his famous meatballs. Come home. We miss you. 💖”

Ellen couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. She hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in what felt like forever. The show had taken up every ounce of her time, leaving little space for anything else.

Without a second thought, she typed back a quick reply:

“I’ll be there in a few days. Save me some meatballs! 🍝”

When Ellen pulled up to the house, the familiar sight of the old brick exterior greeting her with a sense of comfort. The family home had always been a refuge, a place where the chaos of the outside world seemed to fade into something simpler, quieter. She stepped out of her car, her heels tapping against the pavement, and walked toward the front door.

As soon as she stepped inside, the warmth of the house surrounded her, the smell of garlic and simmering sauce filling the air. The sound of her father’s voice, deep and booming, could be heard from the kitchen, mixed with the laughter of her younger brother, Ethan.

“Dad, I’m telling you, if you just let me do it, I could get the meatballs to look even better than last time,” Ethan said, his voice teasing but light.

“I don’t think so, kid,” Robert, her father, retorted with a chuckle. “I’ve been perfecting this recipe for twenty years. No one beats my meatballs.”

Ellen smiled to herself as she walked into the kitchen, finding her father standing over a simmering pot on the stove, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. His silver hair was slightly messy, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked so much like the man she remembered from her childhood—the man who always made her feel safe and loved.

“Hey, Dad,” Ellen said, her voice soft, but with a warm edge of familiarity.

Robert turned around, his face lighting up as soon as he saw her. “Ellen!” he exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across his face. He pulled her into a tight hug. “Look at you, kid. You’re glowing. Fashion Week must’ve agreed with you.”

Ellen laughed, pulling back. “It did, but you know what? Nothing beats your meatballs.” She winked at him playfully. “That’s why I came home.”

Vivian, her mother, entered the room just as Ellen was speaking. She was carrying a platter of freshly baked bread, her face glowing with pride. The warmth in her smile mirrored everything Ellen had ever loved about her mother—steadfast, caring, and always, always ready to support her children no matter what.

“There she is!” Vivian exclaimed, walking over to Ellen with open arms. “My beautiful girl. You did it, didn’t you? I knew you would.”

Ellen chuckled, feeling the tightness in her chest loosen as she embraced her mother. “I did it, Mom. I actually did it.”

Vivian pulled back, her hands on Ellen’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, darling. You’ve worked so hard for this. You deserve everything that’s coming your way.”

Ellen smiled softly, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—a need for reassurance, for a reminder that, beyond the headlines and the glitzy lights of the fashion world, she was still her. The daughter. The sister. The person they had always believed in.

Ethan walked into the room, holding up two large bowls. “Alright, enough with the compliments. I got the pasta, so let’s eat before this man burns the meatballs again.”

Ellen laughed, feeling the ease of being home take over her. She sat at the table, surrounded by the people who had never doubted her, and let herself breathe. For the first time in days, the weight of the world felt a little lighter.