Sylvie had stopped saying it out loud, but every night before she slept, she whispered the same prayer: “Just one miracle.”
Her business meant everything to her. It wasn’t just about the products and packaging but it was her literal dream. A dream to have thousands of orders or maybe hundreds but she didn’t even get tens. She had tried promoting it on her personal TikTok page, hoping the algorithm would finally notice her. But the views remained painfully low.
“Maybe I’m shadow banned,” she would mutter, scrolling through other small businesses going viral overnight. And every time she said it, Jules felt it in his chest. He had more than enough money to take care of both of them. He could have told her to rest and forget about having to work, to let him handle everything, but he knew her. This wasn’t about money but about purpose. And Jules loved her too much to watch her give up on something that made her eyes light up each time she spoke about it.
So one night, after she had fallen asleep, curled up like a tired child, he showered quietly and stepped into the living room. There, he created a new TikTok account using her business name with a little tweak to it. Then he blocked her from it so the algorithm wouldn’t link it back to her page. Then, he filmed a simple video of her product, attached soft music and clean captions.
Before hitting the post option, Jules walked to the window, pulled back the drapes and pushed the glass open. Cool air rushed in, and he took some wholesome breaths, then he looked up at the stars, whispered, “Please,” before hitting post and went to bed.
The next morning, his phone buzzed violently against the nightstand. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. His heart jumped and he grabbed it and clutched it to his chest before even unlocking it. “Let it be what I think it is,” he whispered.
When he finally opened the app, his breath caught.
The video, the only post on the page he created, had gone viral. Views had climbed and comments were pouring in. Notifications stacking so fast the phone could barely keep up.
He screamed.
In the bathroom, Sylvie, nearly dropped her toothbrush.
“What happened?!” she called out, walking out with foam still at the corner of her mouth but he stood there, grinning like Gru after he had stolen the moon.
“Guess what?”
She frowned. “What?”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned the phone around and held it in front of her. Her eyes scanned the screen. First it fell on the username, her business name, then the numbers and the comments asking for prices. The DMs requesting orders.
Her jaw dropped and her hands flew to her mouth.
“No… no, this isn’t…”
“You have over 500 orders to pack, mama,” he said softly. “Congratulations.”
Her knees almost gave out. She cried and buried her face in his chest, sobbing. “My dream,” she whispered.
Jules held her tighter. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t need a miracle anymore. Because she had one and his name was love.
My response to the Freewriters daily prompt
