Page 73 of The Devil In Disguise

“He won’t be able to hurt anyone else now,” she whispers before pulling me in for a sweet kiss. When she pulls back, I grab on to her throat and slam her lips back on mine until we’re breathless.

For a while, we just sit there with her back to my chest as we admire the view.

On our way out of the gardens, we go through an arched walkway with leaves and vines growing over it, casting a light shade over us. Amaris stops to look at the ducks swimming in the pond before we make our way back to Manhattan.

She looks up at me lovingly, more at peace than I think I have ever seen her. “Thank you for bringing me here, it was truly an experience.”

“We still have two more stops to make, baby,” I say, taking her hand.

Surprise covers her features. “When did you have time to plan all of this out?”

“While I was waiting for you to wake up this morning.”

Playfully rolling her eyes and bumping my shoulder, she beams up at me with newfound energy. “Lead the way, querido.”

Taking our time walking down the strip of shops and restaurants, Amaris slows to a stop next to me, pulling my attention to where hers is transfixed. A small art gallery hidden between boutiques, but from what I can see outside, the art is mind-blowing. We share a look and a smile takes over her face.

“Let’s check it out!”

I can’t deny her anything in this world and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to take a look inside myself.

For years, I have wanted to go to museums or art galleries like this one and let the artists’ emotions wash over me as I admire or connect with their work. I have never admitted it out loud, but there have been times that I think about what it might feel like to put my art out there, too. Give myself a chance to do something else, something fulfilling.

Hope was always a dangerous feeling to have.

Although, now I am starting to realize it isn’t all too bad to have hope.

Inside the gallery, there are a few people wandering around, but it’s not too packed, giving a private sort of feel to the room. To my surprise, Amaris seems to genuinely be almost as interested and amazed by the work we see as I am, though I’m not surprised.

The canvas I am currently standing in front of is phenomenal. It drew me in as soon as my eyes fell upon it. The emotion is bleeding through the artist and onto the painting in a way that resonates with me. Swirls of blue and black combine with an almost amber brown and yellow. Accents of red burst from the middle and spread throughout.

This is chaos and peace. Pain into beauty.

When I turn to find Amaris, her eyes are already on me. She’s looking at me the way I was admiring the art in front of me. Noticing that my attention is on her now, she tries to wipe the look of awe off her face, but I already saw it. It made my heart light up.

“You know, one day it can be you showcasing your work for others to admire.”

The comment catches me off guard. Suddenly, I feel embarrassed to talk about it. As I wrack my brain quickly for a response that will change the direction of this conversation, she beats me to the punch.

“We don’t have to talk about it, but you deserve to give yourself a chance at anything that makes you happy, my love.”

She takes my hand in hers and pulls me away towards the back and shows me a collection of three parts. I follow quietly as I try to swallow the warm lump in my throat at her words. Each of the pieces are different, but they each correlate in a way that makes it seem as one. Only when Amaris speaks again do I realize I was beginning to get lost in the colors again.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom, but I will be quick. I’ll come find you in this general area.”

“Okay, I’ll be over here.”

I watch her walk away shamelessly, watching the way her ass sways when she speed walks, before I shake my head with a quiet laugh and turn back to the art. The feeling I get just by being in here and looking at the work and the people, it’s all…heartwarming? Exciting? I’m not sure how to describe it, but it is a good feeling.

After Amaris returns from the bathroom, we decide to head out and go to our next destination. We stop and thank one of the artists on our way out and have a quick chat, then we walk down the rest of the way to a tall building.

Leading the way through doors and weaving through the few people lingering around, we get to the elevator and Amaris looks at me pensively, likely trying to figure out what we’re about to do since I haven’t told her.

“Come on. We’re already inside the building, you might as well tell me,” she practically whines, making me laugh.

“I told you, it’s a surprise. You won’t have to wait much longer. Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

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