Sharon shut her office door, relief trembling just beneath her fatigue. With every bone in her body aching, she felt the emptiness the fire had left, and for once allowed herself to want comfort as much as she gave it.
Jia was already perched on Sharon's couch, wrapped in a navy throw, her phone face-down beside her. She looked up as Sharon entered, eyes glossier than usual.
Without a word, Sharon nudged a white pastry box onto the coffee table, the bakery label nearly hidden by gold ribbon. "Don't say I never listen," she teased softly, her voice rough from everything she'd had to carry.
Jia blinked, then managed a wobbly smile. "You crossed town for cupcakes?"
"Red velvet," Sharon replied. "From Saffron & Spice, not from those impostors near the office." She sat, pulling one out and pressing it into Jia's hand. "You're allowed to grieve for the dress. I know how many late nights went into that collection."
Jia's gaze fell to the pink swirl of frosting. "I kept picturing the original sketch, remember, the one you spilled coffee on that night? I thought, if that survived, so would the final thing. Guess I was wrong." A tear slipped down, but her smile stayed. "Don't worry, I'll design ten better ones tomorrow."
Sharon leaned her head back, closing her eyes, letting the ache and relief mingle. "You'll do a hundred. But tonight? You get to feel bad about that stupid dress. I'm the only one allowed to lecture you."
Jia nudged her playfully in the knee. "Deal. And if you ever burn anything else, save me a sleeve before you torch it."
A small laugh bubbled up in Sharon, honest, a little ragged, but so real she felt lighter for it. "Only for you."
She broke her cupcake in half and handed the bigger piece to Jia anyway.
They sat in gentle quiet, the air heavy with exhaustion and the sweetness of shared relief. Sharon felt suddenly shy about how much she needed this peace, this reminder that after fires came softness.
Moments later, Ray slipped in with a flourish and a box held aloft. "If this room needs anything, it's more sugar," he declared, revealing a decadent chocolate cake that made Jia's eyes widen.
"I guess we're testing who's the best bakery," Ray added, settling beside them and sliding plates their way. "Winner gets to pick the next team night out."
Within minutes, frosting and laughter smeared the rough edges of the day. They swapped horrendous disaster stories, dresses gone wrong, grooms fainting, a flower wall crash that once blocked Sharon's car for hours until even Jia's sorrow smoothed into giggles.
For Sharon, the laughter was almost a revelation. She looked from Jia to Ray, her true circle, her chosen soft place, and admitted, just to herself, how deeply she needed them. The sting of the wedding confrontation, the heaviness of leadership, even her lingering doubts about Sid, none of it could reach her here, not with cake crumbs on her sweater and her best friend's elbow nudging hers.
"I don't say it enough," Sharon said softly, "but I wouldn't want to stand the world on fire with anyone else."
Jia squeezed her hand. "That was the most Sharon thing I've ever heard."
Ray grinned. "But we're saving the next dress, okay?"
Just as Sharon wiped her eyes, uncertain if it was laughter or leftover tears, a knock sounded at the door. It was her assistant, peeking in, not wanting to break the spell.
"Ms. Sharma, sorry to interrupt, but the meeting with Mr. Mehra? You missed it this afternoon." She fidgeted with her tablet. "Should I reschedule?"
Sharon straightened, still smiling, but now with new resolve. "Yes. Let Mr. Mehra know I'll see him first thing tomorrow."
As the door closed again, the three exchanged glances amused, a touch anxious, but grounded in each other. Sharon let herself rest in that moment a little longer, knowing the world could wait for just one more night.