I mindlessly wander through the space, taking in the sight of something I thought I’d never see. Almost every piece has a small red sticker next to it on the wall.
There are paintings of Ruby Cove, of the water, of the shore, of the essence it carries.
Then there are paintings I never thought anyone would see. Portraits of the man standing in front of me, all in differentangles and lighting. The paintings aren’t perfect, they’re just pieces I’ve been playing with every day, painting and repainting, trying to make them perfect. But a little part of me is proud as I look into my favorite eyes and see them reflected on the canvas behind where Caio is standing.
Something catches my eye in my peripheral vision, and I see my mom and dad sitting on the bench that sits beside the wall.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, before looking back to Caio. “What is this?” My voice falters.
Tears well in my mother’s eyes as she stands up.
“Mom?”
She wraps me in a hug. “I’m so, so sorry, darling.” She chokes back her tears before pulling back. “You are…” she looks around the room. “You are so talented, baby girl.” She cups my cheek. “I’m so sorry for doubting you. This is incredible, sweetheart. I mean…” She runs out of words to explain, pulling me into a tight embrace instead. I sink into her arms, reveling in the feeling of affection from my mom.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, and it’s the one thing I’ve waited so long to hear, but nothing changes when she says it. The sun doesn’t shine any brighter, the world doesn’t cleave in two. And it’s because I already feel proud of myself. I don’t know when it started to be enough.
I see my father sitting on the bench from over my mom’s shoulder, a disapproving look still on his face. But it doesn’t sting as much as it used to, and not because my mom approves, but because I do.
My mom pulls away, smoothing down her pencil skirt and fixing her hair. “Okay, we’ll leave you two.” She grabs my dad by the arm and they both leave the gallery.
I stand there looking at the door they left through when warm arms wrap around my middle. “How about that?” Caio asks.
I let out a small laugh. “Definitely something I never thought I’d experience.”
I was so convinced that my mom would never see me as a success. Even after what Miles said, I didn’t believe we’d ever reach this place, but here we are, and all because of the man embracing me right now.
He organized all of this no doubt, always finding ways to wave my accomplishments in my face.
I turn around in his arms. “Are you going to tell me what all of this is? Who bought the gallery?”
“I did. Well, more likewedid, sort of.”
The butterflies in my stomach are bashing against their cage. “What are you talking about?”
“The money wasn’t enough from the fundraiser, but there was no way we were losing this place. There was no wayyouwere. So I made a deal with Nora.” He nods behind me, and I look over my shoulder to where Nora is leaning against the rounded archway with a grin plastered on her face.
“The only way she’d agree to let me buy it was if I agreed that this place would always stay as a studio.”
“And,” Nora chimes in, “that when I’m sick of this place, it’ll be yours.”
“Technically, you would own a part of it anyway,” Caio grins.
“What?” My heart is battering against my chest so hard I’m surprised no one else can hear it.
“It’s written into our agreement that you’ll inherit this place after me, and Caio won’t kick you out, no matter what happens between you two. No matter if you’re here, or back home in New York. This place will always be yours, as long as you want it.”
I look back to Caio as Nora escapes back to the studio after dropping that bomb.
“Remember that pesky little envelope?” I nod. “I put the money into buying this place. I wanted you to feel like you helped save this place, even if you don’t want it for yourself.”
“Is this all a joke?”
He kisses my forehead. “None of this is meant to freak you out, okay? And if this isn’t what you want, then that’s okay too, it's all on your terms. But I will keep the building either way, whether I’m here or not.”
“What do you mean if you’re here or not?” My insides are squirming at this point.
“Well, that depends on you.” He chuckles at the confusion I’m sure is written all over my face. “I can’t pretend that I’ll be okay if you go home. I’d feel empty without you here, my life devoid of the light you fill it with. So if you still want to go back to New York, if that’s what your gut is telling you, then I guess we are moving to New York.”