“Shit!”

The word escapes my mouth and it startles me slightly at the sheer amount of frustration in my voice. I’ve been working on a particular row of stitching on this dress for the past twenty minutes and this is the fourth time I’ve had to rip it out because it isn’t right. I’m getting more and more irritated and I should just leave it for the night but I can’t make myself put it down. Fashion Week is in less than a month and I have so much still to do. I’m slowly getting more and more stressed each day and this ridiculous stitching is doing nothing to help. I’m at the point where I feel like I’m going to scream.

The front door slamming makes me jump and my hands slip a bit, causing the stitching to go off center. A few more curses fall from my mouth as I drop the fabric on my worktable. I think I’m going to lose it.

“Cassie?”

Justin’s voice echoes through my house and I reach up my hand to rub my temples.

“I’m in my sewing room,” I reply, taking a deep breath and then picking up the fabric again.

He appears in the doorway a few seconds later. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I say, not looking up at him as he comes further into the room.

“Are you going to be long? I brought that movie.”

“I just need ten more minutes,” I mumble, pulling the last of the thread from the fabric. “You can start it if you want.”

“I’ll wait.”

I stifle a sigh and bring the fabric down to the sewing machine. It’s going to take me longer than ten minutes to do this if he’s standing there because he’ll distract me. Of course he’s not going to understand that.

“Is this for fashion week?”

“Uh huh.”

“How much more do you have to do?”

“A lot.” I glance up at him and some irritation goes through me when I see that he’s juggling three spools of ribbon. He’s going to wreck something. I have to force myself to ignore him and I look back down to my sewing machine.

It’s quiet for a moment and I’ve just grown accustomed to it when he starts to talk again, making my hand jerk and the thread tangle. I groan and don’t let him continue his words.

“Would you stop?”

His words die mid sentence and he gives me a questioning look. “What?”

I push my chair back and go over to him. “Stop talking and stop playing around with my things.” I grab the spools of ribbon from his now still hands and throw them back in the bin they belong in. Now that I’ve started talking I can’t stop. “I can’t do anything with you standing here so just go. Go get something to eat, go watch TV. Just GO!” My voice is loud when I finish and I run my fingers through my hair in agitation.

His face is pretty unreadable and he just stands there and stares at me. Finally, a few long moments later, he raises his eyebrows and then turns and leaves the room without a word.

A large breath of air escapes me and I feel like I’m on the verge of tears as I go back to my chair and drop into it. I make myself sit there for a minute and calm down before I pick up the fabric and tear out the tangled thread.

Miraculously, after only one more attempt, I keep my hands steady enough and get the stitching perfect. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and my stress lowers slightly.

Now I just have to go deal with a pissed off Justin.

I find him sitting on my couch, flipping through TV channels. He glances over at me when I come into the room and then back at the TV.

“If you don’t want me here then don’t invite me in the first place,” he says, shutting off the TV.

I can tell by his tone and the way that he’s looking at me that he wants to turn this into a fight. Immediately I’m on the defensive.

“I was in the middle of something and you were distracting me,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yeah you could have told me that without jumping down my throat. I didn’t come over here to be bitched at.”

I try to not let his words get to me but it’s hard. “I have a million things to do before fashion week and I’m stressed. This is how I get when I’m stressed out, okay?”

“Maybe next time you can let me know when you’re stressed so I can stay away from you.”

His words are harsh and maybe I deserve them but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. My earlier desire to scream is quickly turning into a desire to cry and I try to suppress it.

“Fine,” I say softly. I don’t have the energy to do this right now.

“So should I just go then?”

My eyes are stinging with tears and I begin to walk to the door. “Do what you want.”

I make it all the way to my room without letting any tears fall and by time I’m up there and away from everything, I’m able to push the tears away. I still feel like shit but I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth it.

I’ve only been staring at the ceiling from my bed for five minutes when there’s a knock on my closed door. When I don’t answer, the door opens and Justin comes in.

“Why is it that I’m the one who got yelled at and now you’re the one who’s all upset?”

His words aren’t the nicest but his voice is softer and I guess he’s done fighting.

“Do I even get an apology?”

I draw in a deep breath and keep my eyes on the ceiling. I’m not really sure I need to apologize for anything but I’m tired of thinking about this. “Sorry.”

He crawls onto the bed next to me and I move my eyes to him. “Don’t be so stressed,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows so he’s staring down at me. “It’s just one week and you’ll do great. You did great last year.”

I give a slight nod even though I don’t exactly agree with him. It isn’t just ‘one week’. It’s the most important week of my year and everything has to be perfect. I can’t afford to not be stressed.

“You just need to take a load off,” he continues, leaning his head down to mine. “Just forget about work for one night.”

I keep myself from sighing as he kisses my neck. I’m so not into this right now. I don’t have the energy. When his hand starts to go up my shirt, I come back to reality and pull away. “Stop.”

He pulls his head away from mine and stares down at me. “What’s wrong?”

I turn on my side to face him and his hand slides to my back. “I’m so tired.”

He’s quiet for a minute and his hand rubs my back. “Do you want to just watch the movie?”

Some relief goes through me and I nod. “Yeah.”

He pulls away and gets off the bed and holds out his hand to me. I take it and let him pull me up. Maybe I do just need to forget about work tonight and relax with him. It probably won’t make my stress go away but maybe it will help. I can only hope.

- - -

“Eating all alone?”

I lift my eyes up from the sheet of paper in front of me and I’m surprised to see Trace standing in front of my table. “Hi. Yeah I’m being a loner.”

“Mind if I’m a loner with you?”

I reach my foot out and push the chair across from me away from the table. “Sure. You’re here all alone too?”

He smiles and sits down. “Yeah. I came to do probably the exact same thing you’re doing.”

I return the smile. “Fashion Week stuff?”

He holds up a folder I hadn’t noticed he had. “Exactly.”

I’ve always gotten along with Trace but lately we’ve become especially close with the common bond of fashion. He’s gotten really involved in his and Justin’s clothing line and we now always have something to talk about when we end up together.

“So how’s everything going?” I ask. “Are you ready for your show?”

“I think so. It’s coming together. What about you? Your show has way more hype around it than mine.”

Ugh. I wish he wouldn’t remind me of that. Susan’s telling me that every time I talk to her and it only stresses me out more. “That’s what I’m hearing.”

“So are you ready for it? Are all your clothes done?”

“I finished the last piece last night. Now it’s just the details.”

“Same here.” He pulls my closed menu over to him. “Have you already ordered?”

“Not yet.”

He beings to flip through the menu. “So when are you flying out to New York?”

“Wednesday morning.”

His eyes raise up from the menu to me. “So that’s why Justin wanted to go out a day early. He said some shit about getting all the details sorted out but I should have known it was because it was because that’s when you’d be there.”

I slump in my chair a bit. “Oh really?”

He brings his eyes back to me again and he’s quiet for a minute before speaking. “Maybe it’s not my place to ask you this but are things between you guys okay?”

I’ve never talked to Trace about Justin and my relationship before but maybe it’s wouldn’t hurt. He might get this.

“It’s just…” I sigh and look to the side at a passing waitress. “I’ve just been so completely busy the past month with Fashion Week and this is just such a stressful time and I don’t have time for anything but this-”

“And he doesn’t understand that.”

My eyes snap back to Trace when he finishes my words for me. “Exactly.”

Trace smiles a bit and leans back in his chair. “You know we both made William Rast but it’s more of my thing now than his. He’s still involved but it’s just another one of his things. And it’s my main thing. So he doesn’t quiet get all the time and effort that goes into something like a fashion show.”

I already new al that and I was kind of hoping Trace would give me advice on what I could do to get Justin to understand because I can’t take the way things are going much longer. When I finally let myself take a break from work all I want to have is some time to myself. But Justin’s always wanting to do something. I can’t remember the last time I was able to simply sit at home alone, watching TV in my pajamas. The thought of that is pure bliss but seems so unreachable as long as I’m busy with work and Justin’s being so needy and so unsympathetic on how stressed Fashion Week makes me.

“It’s only for another week and it’ll all be over,” Trace says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’ll make sure we leave on the Thursday flight, alright?”

A small smile comes over my lips. Trace is more intuitive than I gave him credit for. “Thanks.”

He returns my smile and reaches across the table to rub my arm. “Anytime, Cassie.”