September 23, 2025 • 20 mins
- second-chance romance
- small-town love story
- Harlequin romance
- pottery romance
- emotional audiobook
- family legacy romance
- romantic drama podcast
- artisan love story
- Cresthaven romance
- Mira Lane romance
- Jasper Reed story
- Lila Sterling author
- Midnight’s Shadow podcast
- community romance
- heartfelt fiction
Shadows Before Midnight
Step into the moonlit forests of New England romance with Lila Sterling’s tales of love, legacy, and supernatural intrigue. From the pines of Maine to the hearths of small-town artisans, each story weaves passion and mystery under the stars.
© 2025 Lila Sterling. All rights reserved. Recorded under the moonlit pines of New England, September 17, 2025.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Glow of the Crest by Leela Stirling, Chapter one, The
glass Blower's Return. The train hissed into Cresthaven as dawn broke,
casting a rosy glow over the town's rolling hills. Tessa
Marrow stepped onto the platform, her scarf catching the cool breeze,
heavy with the scent of molten glass and pine. At
(00:21):
thirty one, she hadn't returned in nine years, not since
she'd left for Boston to pursue a career in art
gallery management. A lawyer's letter had summoned her back Marrow's
glass works. Her grandmother's studio was drowning in debt, and
a developer, Evelin Drake, planned to turn it into a
luxury spa. Tessa intended to assess the studio, sell it,
(00:43):
and return to her city life, but the sight of
the studio's stained glass sign, shimmering in the morning light
stirred a pang of nostalgia. This was where her grandmother,
Iris had taught her to shape molten glass her hands,
gidding Tessa's to craft delicate orbs, weaving light into art.
Tessa pushed open the studio's door, the bell chiming softly
(01:05):
inside shelves gleamed with glass works, vases, ornaments, bowls in
hues of amber and emerald. The air hummed with the
faint roar of a furnace, but dust coated the tools,
and a pipe hissed faintly. Tessa traced a finger over
sapphyr orb Memory's flooding back, Iris's warm laugh, the glow
of the glory whole, the dance of molten glass. Now
(01:25):
with Iris gone, the studio felt like a fadding spark.
Tessa marrow a voice called, deep and warm, like a
furnace's hum. She turned to see a man at a
work bench shaping a glowing rod of glass. His dark
hair was flecked with ash, and his flannel shirt was
smudged with soot. Her breath caught Gideon Holt, her first love,
who'd vanished from her life at twenty two. Without a word, Gideon,
(01:49):
she said, her voice tight, what are you doing here?
Chapter two, The unshaped Spark. Gideon set the rod down,
his hazel eyes meeting hers, steady but guarded. Your grandmother
kept me on as manager after you left, he said,
wiping soot from his hands. I've been keeping the studio
afloat Tessa's jaw clenched afloat you left, Gideon. You don't
(02:13):
get to claim this place. Nine years ago, they'd spent
summers blowing glass, dreaming of a future under Cresthaven's starry skis.
His sudden disappearance had shattered her, sending her to Boston
to rebuild. Seeing him here in her grandmother's studio felt
like a fresh crack in her heart. The studio in trouble,
Gideon said, stepping closer. Leaky pipes, outdated furnace, unpaid bills.
(02:38):
Evelin Drake's spa deal is tempting for some in town.
I'm here to sell, Tessa snapped, but the words felt brittle.
The studio's debts were steep, back taxes supplier costs, and
the town council had given her two months to settle
them or lose the property. Evelin's spa loomed, threatening to
dim Cresthaven's Charmidian gestured to a hissing pipe. This needs
(03:02):
fixing to keep the furnace running. I can handle it
if you'll let me. She wanted to refuse, but the
studio's state was dire, and Gideon's hands steady soot streaked,
knew its furnaces and pipes like his own craft. Fine,
she said, her voice cold. Fix what you can, but
this changes nothing. He nodded, grabbing a wrench and began working.
(03:25):
The clank of tools filled the silence as Tessa sortid
glass rods, her eyes drifting to him. His presence was
a spark she couldn't douse, reigniting memories she'd buried. By dusk,
the pipe was sealed and Gideon's gaze softened. Why do
you come back, Tessa, he asked, For gran she said,
avoiding his eyes. This studio was her life. Chapter three,
(03:49):
The town's light Presthaven stirred around Tessa. The next day,
Missus Larn, the baker, dropped off a tray of scones.
Her smile. Kind Iris would be proud, she said. The
Floris donated colored glass scraps, and locals visited. Drawn by
the studio's warm glow, Tessa started a glass blowing workshop
for kids. Hopping to rally support. The studio hummed with
(04:10):
laughter and the furnaces raar. But Evelin Drake's shadow loomed.
At a town meeting, the developer stood, her voice smooth.
Cresthaven needs progress, spas, tourists, jobs, marrows, glass works is outdated.
Tessa stood her heart pounding. This studio is our heart,
not your spa. The crowd cheered, but Evelin's smile was sharp,
(04:31):
promising a fight. Afterward, Gideon found her outside the studio,
the street lights casting a soft glow. You held your own,
he said, his tone warm. Tessa shrugged her guard up.
Why do you leave, Gideon, no note nothing, His face tightened.
My sister was in trouble, addiction debts. I went to
work Rigs in Albany to help her. I wrote to you,
(04:52):
Tessa every month. I never got any letters, she said,
her voice breaking. Had her brother Finn hidden them out
of spite. The revelation hit like a gust, and she
turned away, the studio's lights blurring in her eyes. Chapter four,
The first glow in the studio, Tessa shaped a glass,
orb its amber hue, catching the furnace's light. Gideon watched
(05:14):
his hands idle. You're better than I remember, he said,
a smile in his voice. She twirled the pipe, the
glass glowing. Gran taught me well. Their eyes met, and
the years seemed to melt. But the studio's debts pressed harder,
and Evelin's offer loomed. Tessa planned a fundraiser at the
town hall. Hopping to rally more support. Gideon helped, repairing
pipes and crafting wooden display racks. Their work felt like
(05:37):
a shared dance, each moves sparking memories. As they set
up for the fundraiser, their hands brushed and Tessa's pulse quickened.
We're not kids anymore, she said, stepping back. Gideon nodded,
but his gaze held a spark. The town hall glowed
that night with locals bidding on glass works, but Evelyn's
presence chilled the air. My offer's generous, she said. Tessa's
(05:57):
resolve hardened. She'd fight for the studio and maybe her heart.
Chapter five, The Fundraiser's spark. The Cresthaven Town Hall shimmered
under canopy of twinkling lights, its wooden beams polished to
a warm glow. For the fundraiser to save Marrow's glassworks,
Tessa Marrow arranged her glassworks on display tables, sappha vases,
(06:18):
amber orbs, emerald bowls, each piece catching the light like
captured stars. Gideon Holtz handcarved wooden racks, etched with subtle
wave patterns framed her creations, their collaboration a testament to
their shared past. The room buzzed with townsfolk, their voices
mingling with the soft plink of a harpist. As bids
(06:38):
climbed higher, Tessa's heart lifted with each sail, the funds
inching closer to clearing the studio's debts, but the tax deadline,
now just weeks away, kept her tethered to reality. Gideon
moved through the crowd, offering glasses of spiced cider, his
flannel shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing soot streaked forearms. His
(06:59):
hazel eyes caught across the room, a quiet smile, sparking
a warmth she tried to suppress. They'd been working side
by side for days, blowing glass, sanding racks, and his
steady presence was chipping away at her resolve to keep
him at a distance. She turned to a bidder, an
elderly man who admired an amber orb. It's like Iris's work,
(07:19):
he said, his voice soft. You've got her gift, Tessa.
Before she could respond, Evelin Drake swept in her sleek blazer,
stark against the crowd's cozy sweaters. The room hushed slightly
as she approached, Her smile polished, Miss Marrow, she said,
gesturing to the glass works. Impressive turnout. But my company
can buy the studio outright, turn it into a cultural
(07:42):
display in our spa. You'd be debt free with profit.
Tessa's stomach twisted. This studio isn't a museum piece. It's
Cresthaven's heart. Her voice carried, and murmurs of agreement rippled
through the crowd. Evelyn's eyes narrowed, but her smile held.
What doesn't pay bills. My offer's open for now. She
(08:03):
glided away, leaving a chill in her wake. Gideon appeared
at Tessa's side, his shoulder brushing hers. She's rattled, he said, quietly,
you're rallying the town. His voice steadied her, but their
brief touch sent a spark through her, stirring memories of
starlet summers. She stepped back, focusing on the bids, but
his presence glowed like a furnace she couldn't douse. By
(08:23):
night's end, the fundraiser had raised nearly half the needed funds.
As they packed up, Gideon helped stack racks his hands.
Careful you're doing it, Tessa, he said, Iris would be proud.
Her throat tightened, the past and present fusing together. Chapter six,
The Starlet Truth. The stars glimmered over Cresthaven, their light
(08:45):
dancing on the river. Outside Marrow's glass works, Tessa sat
on a riverside bench. The fundraiser's success tempered by Evelin's
offer and the sting of Gideon's lost letters. Had her
brother Finn really hidden them out of spite? The thought
burned and she needed answers. The studio's door chimed, and
Gideon stepped out, his breath visible in the cool night air.
Knew you'd be here, he said, sitting beside her, leaving
(09:07):
a careful distance. The river's murmur filled the silence, and
the scent of molten glass clung to him, grounding her.
Why didn't you try harder, Tessa asked, her voice roar.
Letters are one thing, Gideon, but you could have called
found me. He looked at the stars, his jaw tight.
I tried, Tessa once, when I was back for a week.
(09:28):
Finn said, you moved on, that you were happy in Boston.
I didn't want to drag you back. His voice was
heavy with regret. Tessa's heart sank. Finn, always resentful of
her bond with Gideon, had sabotaged them. He lied, She whispered,
the betrayal sharp. I waited for you, Gideon for months.
I thought you'd forgotten me. His eyes met hers, pained
(09:51):
I'm sorry. I thought letting you go was right. You
were meant for more than Cresthaven. He reached for her hand,
his touch tentative, warm from handling glass. She didn't pull away,
the contact stirring memories of their hands entwined by the
studio's furnace. I wanted you, not Boston, she said, her
voice breaking. The admission hung between them, fragile as molten glass.
(10:14):
I wrote every month, Tessa, Gideon said, every letter was
for you. His honesty cracked her defenses, and she felt
the pull of their past like a spark catching flame,
But fear held her back. She couldn't risk her heart again.
She stood the stars blurring in her eyes and walked
back to the studio, the weight of truth and trust
glowing within her. Chapter seven, The Glasses Dance. The studio
(10:36):
hummed with activity as Tessa and Gideon prepared for the
Cresthaven Festival their best chance to save Marrow's glass works.
They crafted a chandelier of glass orbs, dozens of sappha
and amber spheres, suspended in a wooden frame Gideon had
carved for the festival's main stage. Tessa twirled a pipe,
shaping molten glass. The furnaces rare, a steady rhythm, while
(10:58):
Gideon sanded the frame, his focus intense. Their work felt
like a dance, each move complimenting the other, but the
air crackled with unspoken tension. As they hung an orb,
a fleck of glass dust landed on Tessa's sleeve. She laughed,
brushing it off, but Gideon reached out, wiping it gently
with his thumb. Careful, he said, his voice husky. Their
(11:22):
faces inches apart, Her pulse raised, and she teased, still clumsy,
breaking the moment, her cheeks flushed. You're perfect, Gideon said,
his smile soft. The words hit her, stirring memories of
late nights blowing glass together, dreaming of a shared future.
She turned to the pipe, focusing on the glass, but
her heart pounded. They worked late, the chandelier taking shape
(11:43):
under the studio's warm lights. Gideon shared stories of his
time in Albany grueling rig shifts lonely nights, and Tessa listened,
drawn to his vulnerability. Why do you come back, she asked,
pausing her work for the studio. He said, for Iris
and for you, even if I didn't admit it. Then
his honesty warmed her, fraying the walls she'd built, but
(12:04):
fear lingered she couldn't fall again, not with the studio's
fate and her heart at stake. As they adjusted the chandelier,
their hands brushed, and Tessa felt a spark she couldn't extinguish.
Chapter eight, the town's rally. The next morning, Cresthaven buzzed
with purpose. Tessa and Gideon organized an open house at
the studio, inviting the town to see its value. Artizan's
(12:27):
demonstrated glass blowing, kids shaped ornaments, and Missus Lawn brought pastries.
The community's support was a warm glow, but Evelin Drake's
smear campaign cast a shadow. Fliers claimed the studio's furnace
was a safety hazard. Tessa's anger flared, but Gideon's calm
presence steadied her. We'll prove them wrong, he said, his
(12:47):
hand brushing hers as they set up displays, The open
house drew a crowd, with townsfolk marveling at Tessa's glass
works in Gideon's racks. A petition to declare the studio
a historic site gained signatures, and the mayor promised to
push it through. Evelyn arrived, her presence a cold draft.
This is quaint, she said, her tone sharp. But my
(13:09):
spa will bring progress. You're delaying the inevitable. Tessa stood tall.
This studio is our future, not your prophet. The crowd cheered,
and Gideon's proud smile warmed her. As the day ended,
they stood in the studio adjusting a glass display. Their
hands met, and for a moment Tessa didn't pull away.
The air felt charged, their faces close, but a child's
(13:29):
giggle broke the spell. Tessa stepped back, her heart racing.
The festival was days away, their last chance to save
the studio and maybe their love. Chapter nine, The Cresthaven Festival.
The Cresthaven Festival transformed the town into a radiant tapestry,
its meadows aglow with lanterns, the scent of pine and
(13:49):
cider mingling in the crisp air, and the humm of
fiddles echoing under Starlit sky. Marrow's glass works stood as
the festival's heart, Its doors flung, open shelves shimmering with
Tessa Marrow's creations, safa vases, amber orbs, emerald bowls, each
piece catching the light like a captured star. Gideon Holt's
hand carved wooden racks etched with wave patterns framed her work.
(14:13):
Their collaboration. A beacon of Hope townsfolk and visitors from
neighboring towns crowded the studio, bidding on glass works and
donating to save it from Evelin Drake's spa plans. Tessa's
heart swelled with each sail, the funds nearing the amount
needed to clear the studio's debts. With the tax deadline
(14:34):
just days away, Tessa adjusted a sapphire orb its surface,
refracting the lantern light, her fingers lingering on the smooth glass.
Gideon moved beside her, his flannel shirt dusted with ash,
his hazel eyes bright with pride. This place is alive again,
he said, his voice warm. You did this, Tessa. His
words kindled a spark in her, but the pressure of
(14:56):
the deadline kept her grounded. Eveland Drake appeared the studio's entrance,
her sleek blazer stark against the festival's rustic charm. She
approached her smile sharp, Miss Marrow, she said, eyeing the
glass works a valiant effort, But my spa will bring jobs, progress,
sell now, and I'll feature your work in our lobby.
(15:17):
Tessa's resolve hardened. This studio is Cresthaven's soul, not your display.
Her voice rang out, and the crowd murmured support. Gideon
stepped closer, his presence steady. She's right, he said, this
town chooses its heart over your profit. Evelyn's eyes narrowed,
but she left without a word, her heels fadding into
the festival's hum. As dusk fell, the mayor took the stage,
(15:40):
her voice clear, Thanks to your generosity, Marrow's Glass Works
has raised enough to clear its debts, and our petition
has made it a historic sight. The crowd erupted in cheers,
and Tessa's eyes strung with relief. Gideon's hand found hers,
his touch a quiet promise. They joined the festival's dance,
their steps close under the lanterns, the music weaving their
(16:00):
past and present into a single glowing moment. Chapter ten,
the letters revealed festival's triumph lingered in Tessa's mind as
she climbed the studio's attic stairs. The next evening, a
lantern casting shadows on the dusty beams. Gideon's confession about
the letters he'd sent hidden by her brother Finn, had
left her restless, needing proof. Dust swirled in the lantern's light.
(16:23):
As she sifted through her grandmother Iris's belongings in a
wooden box tucked behind old glass rods, She found them.
A bundle of envelopes, edges yellowed, addressed to her in
Gideon's careful handwriting. Her heart pounded as she opened one,
the paper crinkling, Tessa, I'm sorry I left. My sister's
troubles took me away, but you're my light. I love
(16:45):
you always will. Please write back. Each letter echoed the
same love, regret, hope. Tears blurred her vision as she
read the words, melting nine years of pain. Finn's betrayal
cut deep, but Gideon's truth was a warm glow, rekindling
her trust. She found him by the river. The waters
rush a soft backdrop to the night I found them,
(17:06):
she said, holding up the letters, her voice trembling. Gideon's
eyes widened, and he stepped closer, his breath catching. What
did they say? He asked, his voice low, that you
loved me, She said, her throat tight, that you never forgot.
She handed him a letter and he read it silently,
his jaw clenching. Finn told me you moved on, he said.
(17:29):
I thought I was doing right by letting you go.
He lied. Tessa whispered, I waited for you. The admission
hung between them, heavy with lost years. Gideon reached for
her hand, his touch warm and steady. I'm here now, Tessa,
I'm not leaving again. She didn't pull away, letting his
words shape her doubts, her heart glowing toward forgiveness. Chapter eleven,
(17:50):
The Heart's Glow. The studio hummed with quiet energy as
Tessa and Gideon crafted glass works for a community exhibition.
The furnaces wore a steady ripe them. The hands moved
in sink, shaping molten glass and setting it to cool,
the air thick with the scent of heated sand. Tessa's
fingers brushed Gideon as they adjusted an orb, and a
spark shot through her Warm and undeniable. I was so angry,
(18:14):
she admitted, pausing her work, but I missed you, Gideon.
Every day he set a pipe down, his hazel eyes
soft but intense. I missed you too. Every night in Albany,
I saw you in the glass I shaped. He stepped closer,
the space between them shrinking. I love you, Tessa. I
never stopped. Her breath, caught the weight of nine years,
(18:35):
fatting under his gaze. She wanted to guard her heart,
but his truth burned through her doubts. They walked to
the riverbank, the pine trees, branches swaying in the breeze
under their canopy. Tessa kissed him, her lips meeting his
with a warmth that felt like home. His arms wrapped
around her, steady and sure, and the rivers rush echoed
their pulse. I love you too, she whispered, the words
(18:57):
of flame binding them. They sat by the water, planning
the studio's future workshops, festivals, a hub for Cresthaven's artisans.
Gideon's hands stayed in hers, a vow of partnership. For
the first time, Tessa saw not just the studio's survival,
but a life with him, radiant and strong. Chapter twelve,
(19:17):
The Crest's Radiance. Weeks later, Marrow's Glassworks thrived as Cresthaven's heart,
Its shelves alive with Tessa's glass works, sapha vases, amber orbs,
emerald bowls displayed on Gideon's carved racks. The studio buzzed
with workshops, children shaping ornaments, locals crafting gifts. The town
council had cemented its status as a historic site save
(19:40):
from Evelin Drake's plans, and visitors flocked from neighboring towns
to see the reborn space. Tessa stood in the studio
watching a boy shape his first orb, his smile mirroring irises.
The site warmed her. Her grandmother's legacy was alive. Gideon
joined her, his flannel shirt dusted with ash, his smile soft.
(20:01):
It's beautiful, isn't it, he said, his arm brushing hers.
She leaned into him, nodding better than I dreamed. They
walked to a riverside pine, its branches heavy with starlight. Together,
they shaped a joint orb on a portable bench, their
hands getting the molten glass into a piece swirled with
river hues. Each turn of the pipe felt like a promise,
their love glowing in every curve as the moon rose,
(20:24):
casting a silver glow over the studio. Tessa turned to Gideon,
What now, she asked, her voice soft. He took her hand,
his smile warm, We keep shining together. Cresthaven embraced them
not just a town, but a vow of forever their love,
a radiance that held it all together
Glow of the Crest by Leela Stirling, Chapter one, The
glass Blower's Return. The train hissed into Cresthaven as dawn broke,
casting a rosy glow over the town's rolling hills. Tessa
Marrow stepped onto the platform, her scarf catching the cool breeze,
heavy with the scent of molten glass and pine. At
(00:21):
thirty one, she hadn't returned in nine years, not since
she'd left for Boston to pursue a career in art
gallery management. A lawyer's letter had summoned her back Marrow's
glass works. Her grandmother's studio was drowning in debt, and
a developer, Evelin Drake, planned to turn it into a
luxury spa. Tessa intended to assess the studio, sell it,
(00:43):
and return to her city life, but the sight of
the studio's stained glass sign, shimmering in the morning light
stirred a pang of nostalgia. This was where her grandmother,
Iris had taught her to shape molten glass her hands,
gidding Tessa's to craft delicate orbs, weaving light into art.
Tessa pushed open the studio's door, the bell chiming softly
(01:05):
inside shelves gleamed with glass works, vases, ornaments, bowls in
hues of amber and emerald. The air hummed with the
faint roar of a furnace, but dust coated the tools,
and a pipe hissed faintly. Tessa traced a finger over
sapphyr orb Memory's flooding back, Iris's warm laugh, the glow
of the glory whole, the dance of molten glass. Now
(01:25):
with Iris gone, the studio felt like a fadding spark.
Tessa marrow a voice called, deep and warm, like a
furnace's hum. She turned to see a man at a
work bench shaping a glowing rod of glass. His dark
hair was flecked with ash, and his flannel shirt was
smudged with soot. Her breath caught Gideon Holt, her first love,
who'd vanished from her life at twenty two. Without a word, Gideon,
(01:49):
she said, her voice tight, what are you doing here?
Chapter two, The unshaped Spark. Gideon set the rod down,
his hazel eyes meeting hers, steady but guarded. Your grandmother
kept me on as manager after you left, he said,
wiping soot from his hands. I've been keeping the studio
afloat Tessa's jaw clenched afloat you left, Gideon. You don't
(02:13):
get to claim this place. Nine years ago, they'd spent
summers blowing glass, dreaming of a future under Cresthaven's starry skis.
His sudden disappearance had shattered her, sending her to Boston
to rebuild. Seeing him here in her grandmother's studio felt
like a fresh crack in her heart. The studio in trouble,
Gideon said, stepping closer. Leaky pipes, outdated furnace, unpaid bills.
(02:38):
Evelin Drake's spa deal is tempting for some in town.
I'm here to sell, Tessa snapped, but the words felt brittle.
The studio's debts were steep, back taxes supplier costs, and
the town council had given her two months to settle
them or lose the property. Evelin's spa loomed, threatening to
dim Cresthaven's Charmidian gestured to a hissing pipe. This needs
(03:02):
fixing to keep the furnace running. I can handle it
if you'll let me. She wanted to refuse, but the
studio's state was dire, and Gideon's hands steady soot streaked,
knew its furnaces and pipes like his own craft. Fine,
she said, her voice cold. Fix what you can, but
this changes nothing. He nodded, grabbing a wrench and began working.
(03:25):
The clank of tools filled the silence as Tessa sortid
glass rods, her eyes drifting to him. His presence was
a spark she couldn't douse, reigniting memories she'd buried. By dusk,
the pipe was sealed and Gideon's gaze softened. Why do
you come back, Tessa, he asked, For gran she said,
avoiding his eyes. This studio was her life. Chapter three,
(03:49):
The town's light Presthaven stirred around Tessa. The next day,
Missus Larn, the baker, dropped off a tray of scones.
Her smile. Kind Iris would be proud, she said. The
Floris donated colored glass scraps, and locals visited. Drawn by
the studio's warm glow, Tessa started a glass blowing workshop
for kids. Hopping to rally support. The studio hummed with
(04:10):
laughter and the furnaces raar. But Evelin Drake's shadow loomed.
At a town meeting, the developer stood, her voice smooth.
Cresthaven needs progress, spas, tourists, jobs, marrows, glass works is outdated.
Tessa stood her heart pounding. This studio is our heart,
not your spa. The crowd cheered, but Evelin's smile was sharp,
(04:31):
promising a fight. Afterward, Gideon found her outside the studio,
the street lights casting a soft glow. You held your own,
he said, his tone warm. Tessa shrugged her guard up.
Why do you leave, Gideon, no note nothing, His face tightened.
My sister was in trouble, addiction debts. I went to
work Rigs in Albany to help her. I wrote to you,
(04:52):
Tessa every month. I never got any letters, she said,
her voice breaking. Had her brother Finn hidden them out
of spite. The revelation hit like a gust, and she
turned away, the studio's lights blurring in her eyes. Chapter four,
The first glow in the studio, Tessa shaped a glass,
orb its amber hue, catching the furnace's light. Gideon watched
(05:14):
his hands idle. You're better than I remember, he said,
a smile in his voice. She twirled the pipe, the
glass glowing. Gran taught me well. Their eyes met, and
the years seemed to melt. But the studio's debts pressed harder,
and Evelin's offer loomed. Tessa planned a fundraiser at the
town hall. Hopping to rally more support. Gideon helped, repairing
pipes and crafting wooden display racks. Their work felt like
(05:37):
a shared dance, each moves sparking memories. As they set
up for the fundraiser, their hands brushed and Tessa's pulse quickened.
We're not kids anymore, she said, stepping back. Gideon nodded,
but his gaze held a spark. The town hall glowed
that night with locals bidding on glass works, but Evelyn's
presence chilled the air. My offer's generous, she said. Tessa's
(05:57):
resolve hardened. She'd fight for the studio and maybe her heart.
Chapter five, The Fundraiser's spark. The Cresthaven Town Hall shimmered
under canopy of twinkling lights, its wooden beams polished to
a warm glow. For the fundraiser to save Marrow's glassworks,
Tessa Marrow arranged her glassworks on display tables, sappha vases,
(06:18):
amber orbs, emerald bowls, each piece catching the light like
captured stars. Gideon Holtz handcarved wooden racks, etched with subtle
wave patterns framed her creations, their collaboration a testament to
their shared past. The room buzzed with townsfolk, their voices
mingling with the soft plink of a harpist. As bids
(06:38):
climbed higher, Tessa's heart lifted with each sail, the funds
inching closer to clearing the studio's debts, but the tax deadline,
now just weeks away, kept her tethered to reality. Gideon
moved through the crowd, offering glasses of spiced cider, his
flannel shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing soot streaked forearms. His
(06:59):
hazel eyes caught across the room, a quiet smile, sparking
a warmth she tried to suppress. They'd been working side
by side for days, blowing glass, sanding racks, and his
steady presence was chipping away at her resolve to keep
him at a distance. She turned to a bidder, an
elderly man who admired an amber orb. It's like Iris's work,
(07:19):
he said, his voice soft. You've got her gift, Tessa.
Before she could respond, Evelin Drake swept in her sleek blazer,
stark against the crowd's cozy sweaters. The room hushed slightly
as she approached, Her smile polished, Miss Marrow, she said,
gesturing to the glass works. Impressive turnout. But my company
can buy the studio outright, turn it into a cultural
(07:42):
display in our spa. You'd be debt free with profit.
Tessa's stomach twisted. This studio isn't a museum piece. It's
Cresthaven's heart. Her voice carried, and murmurs of agreement rippled
through the crowd. Evelyn's eyes narrowed, but her smile held.
What doesn't pay bills. My offer's open for now. She
(08:03):
glided away, leaving a chill in her wake. Gideon appeared
at Tessa's side, his shoulder brushing hers. She's rattled, he said, quietly,
you're rallying the town. His voice steadied her, but their
brief touch sent a spark through her, stirring memories of
starlet summers. She stepped back, focusing on the bids, but
his presence glowed like a furnace she couldn't douse. By
(08:23):
night's end, the fundraiser had raised nearly half the needed funds.
As they packed up, Gideon helped stack racks his hands.
Careful you're doing it, Tessa, he said, Iris would be proud.
Her throat tightened, the past and present fusing together. Chapter six,
The Starlet Truth. The stars glimmered over Cresthaven, their light
(08:45):
dancing on the river. Outside Marrow's glass works, Tessa sat
on a riverside bench. The fundraiser's success tempered by Evelin's
offer and the sting of Gideon's lost letters. Had her
brother Finn really hidden them out of spite? The thought
burned and she needed answers. The studio's door chimed, and
Gideon stepped out, his breath visible in the cool night air.
Knew you'd be here, he said, sitting beside her, leaving
(09:07):
a careful distance. The river's murmur filled the silence, and
the scent of molten glass clung to him, grounding her.
Why didn't you try harder, Tessa asked, her voice roar.
Letters are one thing, Gideon, but you could have called
found me. He looked at the stars, his jaw tight.
I tried, Tessa once, when I was back for a week.
(09:28):
Finn said, you moved on, that you were happy in Boston.
I didn't want to drag you back. His voice was
heavy with regret. Tessa's heart sank. Finn, always resentful of
her bond with Gideon, had sabotaged them. He lied, She whispered,
the betrayal sharp. I waited for you, Gideon for months.
I thought you'd forgotten me. His eyes met hers, pained
(09:51):
I'm sorry. I thought letting you go was right. You
were meant for more than Cresthaven. He reached for her hand,
his touch tentative, warm from handling glass. She didn't pull away,
the contact stirring memories of their hands entwined by the
studio's furnace. I wanted you, not Boston, she said, her
voice breaking. The admission hung between them, fragile as molten glass.
(10:14):
I wrote every month, Tessa, Gideon said, every letter was
for you. His honesty cracked her defenses, and she felt
the pull of their past like a spark catching flame,
But fear held her back. She couldn't risk her heart again.
She stood the stars blurring in her eyes and walked
back to the studio, the weight of truth and trust
glowing within her. Chapter seven, The Glasses Dance. The studio
(10:36):
hummed with activity as Tessa and Gideon prepared for the
Cresthaven Festival their best chance to save Marrow's glass works.
They crafted a chandelier of glass orbs, dozens of sappha
and amber spheres, suspended in a wooden frame Gideon had
carved for the festival's main stage. Tessa twirled a pipe,
shaping molten glass. The furnaces rare, a steady rhythm, while
(10:58):
Gideon sanded the frame, his focus intense. Their work felt
like a dance, each move complimenting the other, but the
air crackled with unspoken tension. As they hung an orb,
a fleck of glass dust landed on Tessa's sleeve. She laughed,
brushing it off, but Gideon reached out, wiping it gently
with his thumb. Careful, he said, his voice husky. Their
(11:22):
faces inches apart, Her pulse raised, and she teased, still clumsy,
breaking the moment, her cheeks flushed. You're perfect, Gideon said,
his smile soft. The words hit her, stirring memories of
late nights blowing glass together, dreaming of a shared future.
She turned to the pipe, focusing on the glass, but
her heart pounded. They worked late, the chandelier taking shape
(11:43):
under the studio's warm lights. Gideon shared stories of his
time in Albany grueling rig shifts lonely nights, and Tessa listened,
drawn to his vulnerability. Why do you come back, she asked,
pausing her work for the studio. He said, for Iris
and for you, even if I didn't admit it. Then
his honesty warmed her, fraying the walls she'd built, but
(12:04):
fear lingered she couldn't fall again, not with the studio's
fate and her heart at stake. As they adjusted the chandelier,
their hands brushed, and Tessa felt a spark she couldn't extinguish.
Chapter eight, the town's rally. The next morning, Cresthaven buzzed
with purpose. Tessa and Gideon organized an open house at
the studio, inviting the town to see its value. Artizan's
(12:27):
demonstrated glass blowing, kids shaped ornaments, and Missus Lawn brought pastries.
The community's support was a warm glow, but Evelin Drake's
smear campaign cast a shadow. Fliers claimed the studio's furnace
was a safety hazard. Tessa's anger flared, but Gideon's calm
presence steadied her. We'll prove them wrong, he said, his
(12:47):
hand brushing hers as they set up displays, The open
house drew a crowd, with townsfolk marveling at Tessa's glass
works in Gideon's racks. A petition to declare the studio
a historic site gained signatures, and the mayor promised to
push it through. Evelyn arrived, her presence a cold draft.
This is quaint, she said, her tone sharp. But my
(13:09):
spa will bring progress. You're delaying the inevitable. Tessa stood tall.
This studio is our future, not your prophet. The crowd cheered,
and Gideon's proud smile warmed her. As the day ended,
they stood in the studio adjusting a glass display. Their
hands met, and for a moment Tessa didn't pull away.
The air felt charged, their faces close, but a child's
(13:29):
giggle broke the spell. Tessa stepped back, her heart racing.
The festival was days away, their last chance to save
the studio and maybe their love. Chapter nine, The Cresthaven Festival.
The Cresthaven Festival transformed the town into a radiant tapestry,
its meadows aglow with lanterns, the scent of pine and
(13:49):
cider mingling in the crisp air, and the humm of
fiddles echoing under Starlit sky. Marrow's glass works stood as
the festival's heart, Its doors flung, open shelves shimmering with
Tessa Marrow's creations, safa vases, amber orbs, emerald bowls, each
piece catching the light like a captured star. Gideon Holt's
hand carved wooden racks etched with wave patterns framed her work.
(14:13):
Their collaboration. A beacon of Hope townsfolk and visitors from
neighboring towns crowded the studio, bidding on glass works and
donating to save it from Evelin Drake's spa plans. Tessa's
heart swelled with each sail, the funds nearing the amount
needed to clear the studio's debts. With the tax deadline
(14:34):
just days away, Tessa adjusted a sapphire orb its surface,
refracting the lantern light, her fingers lingering on the smooth glass.
Gideon moved beside her, his flannel shirt dusted with ash,
his hazel eyes bright with pride. This place is alive again,
he said, his voice warm. You did this, Tessa. His
words kindled a spark in her, but the pressure of
(14:56):
the deadline kept her grounded. Eveland Drake appeared the studio's entrance,
her sleek blazer stark against the festival's rustic charm. She
approached her smile sharp, Miss Marrow, she said, eyeing the
glass works a valiant effort, But my spa will bring jobs, progress,
sell now, and I'll feature your work in our lobby.
(15:17):
Tessa's resolve hardened. This studio is Cresthaven's soul, not your display.
Her voice rang out, and the crowd murmured support. Gideon
stepped closer, his presence steady. She's right, he said, this
town chooses its heart over your profit. Evelyn's eyes narrowed,
but she left without a word, her heels fadding into
the festival's hum. As dusk fell, the mayor took the stage,
(15:40):
her voice clear, Thanks to your generosity, Marrow's Glass Works
has raised enough to clear its debts, and our petition
has made it a historic sight. The crowd erupted in cheers,
and Tessa's eyes strung with relief. Gideon's hand found hers,
his touch a quiet promise. They joined the festival's dance,
their steps close under the lanterns, the music weaving their
(16:00):
past and present into a single glowing moment. Chapter ten,
the letters revealed festival's triumph lingered in Tessa's mind as
she climbed the studio's attic stairs. The next evening, a
lantern casting shadows on the dusty beams. Gideon's confession about
the letters he'd sent hidden by her brother Finn, had
left her restless, needing proof. Dust swirled in the lantern's light.
(16:23):
As she sifted through her grandmother Iris's belongings in a
wooden box tucked behind old glass rods, She found them.
A bundle of envelopes, edges yellowed, addressed to her in
Gideon's careful handwriting. Her heart pounded as she opened one,
the paper crinkling, Tessa, I'm sorry I left. My sister's
troubles took me away, but you're my light. I love
(16:45):
you always will. Please write back. Each letter echoed the
same love, regret, hope. Tears blurred her vision as she
read the words, melting nine years of pain. Finn's betrayal
cut deep, but Gideon's truth was a warm glow, rekindling
her trust. She found him by the river. The waters
rush a soft backdrop to the night I found them,
(17:06):
she said, holding up the letters, her voice trembling. Gideon's
eyes widened, and he stepped closer, his breath catching. What
did they say? He asked, his voice low, that you
loved me, She said, her throat tight, that you never forgot.
She handed him a letter and he read it silently,
his jaw clenching. Finn told me you moved on, he said.
(17:29):
I thought I was doing right by letting you go.
He lied. Tessa whispered, I waited for you. The admission
hung between them, heavy with lost years. Gideon reached for
her hand, his touch warm and steady. I'm here now, Tessa,
I'm not leaving again. She didn't pull away, letting his
words shape her doubts, her heart glowing toward forgiveness. Chapter eleven,
(17:50):
The Heart's Glow. The studio hummed with quiet energy as
Tessa and Gideon crafted glass works for a community exhibition.
The furnaces wore a steady ripe them. The hands moved
in sink, shaping molten glass and setting it to cool,
the air thick with the scent of heated sand. Tessa's
fingers brushed Gideon as they adjusted an orb, and a
spark shot through her Warm and undeniable. I was so angry,
(18:14):
she admitted, pausing her work, but I missed you, Gideon.
Every day he set a pipe down, his hazel eyes
soft but intense. I missed you too. Every night in Albany,
I saw you in the glass I shaped. He stepped closer,
the space between them shrinking. I love you, Tessa. I
never stopped. Her breath, caught the weight of nine years,
(18:35):
fatting under his gaze. She wanted to guard her heart,
but his truth burned through her doubts. They walked to
the riverbank, the pine trees, branches swaying in the breeze
under their canopy. Tessa kissed him, her lips meeting his
with a warmth that felt like home. His arms wrapped
around her, steady and sure, and the rivers rush echoed
their pulse. I love you too, she whispered, the words
(18:57):
of flame binding them. They sat by the water, planning
the studio's future workshops, festivals, a hub for Cresthaven's artisans.
Gideon's hands stayed in hers, a vow of partnership. For
the first time, Tessa saw not just the studio's survival,
but a life with him, radiant and strong. Chapter twelve,
(19:17):
The Crest's Radiance. Weeks later, Marrow's Glassworks thrived as Cresthaven's heart,
Its shelves alive with Tessa's glass works, sapha vases, amber orbs,
emerald bowls displayed on Gideon's carved racks. The studio buzzed
with workshops, children shaping ornaments, locals crafting gifts. The town
council had cemented its status as a historic site save
(19:40):
from Evelin Drake's plans, and visitors flocked from neighboring towns
to see the reborn space. Tessa stood in the studio
watching a boy shape his first orb, his smile mirroring irises.
The site warmed her. Her grandmother's legacy was alive. Gideon
joined her, his flannel shirt dusted with ash, his smile soft.
(20:01):
It's beautiful, isn't it, he said, his arm brushing hers.
She leaned into him, nodding better than I dreamed. They
walked to a riverside pine, its branches heavy with starlight. Together,
they shaped a joint orb on a portable bench, their
hands getting the molten glass into a piece swirled with
river hues. Each turn of the pipe felt like a promise,
their love glowing in every curve as the moon rose,
(20:24):
casting a silver glow over the studio. Tessa turned to Gideon,
What now, she asked, her voice soft. He took her hand,
his smile warm, We keep shining together. Cresthaven embraced them
not just a town, but a vow of forever their love,
a radiance that held it all together
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