“Actually, I have,” I admitted. “But I’m not sure where to start.”
“Must be a coincidence,” Ivy said, her eyes twinkling. “There’s a small place for rent in town that would be perfect for an art gallery. I can show it to you on my lunch break. If you’re interested?”
“That would be amazing,” I said, experiencing a surge of excitement. “Thank you, Ivy.”
“Anytime,” she replied. “You’re going to love it here, Vinnie. Trust me.”
While Ivy attended to other customers, I found a seat by the window and savored my morning drink, taking in the charming view of the town. Old-fashioned buildings lined the streets of Hallow’s End, each painted in warm, inviting colors. Strings of twinkling fairy lights crisscrossed above the cobblestone streets, adding a magical glow even in the daylight.
Parents walked hand-in-hand with children bundled up in cozy sweaters, their laughter echoing as they skipped along. An elderly couple strolled by, arm in arm, wearing matching knitted hats, their steps slow but content. It was idyllic, and so different from the impersonal atmosphere of metropolitan life.
Despite the beauty, and the palpable sense of community, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place in Hallow’s End. I missed thefamiliarity of city life. A young couple passing by the window, laughing and sharing a playful moment, brought back memories of Sebastian and me. We used to have moments like that—spontaneous, joyful, and filled with laughter.
One evening stood out vividly in my mind, as if I were reliving it all over again.
It was late, and the city buzzed with its usual electric energy. Sebastian had insisted on a spontaneous adventure, his intense green eyes shining with excitement. We found ourselves at an upscale bar with a rooftop view, the city sprawled beneath us like a glittering tapestry.
“Let’s play truth or dare,” he suggested, his confident grin infectious.
The dares escalated quickly—from daring each other to flirt with strangers to Sebastian challenging me to dance provocatively on the bar top. The thrill of it all was intoxicating. When it was his turn, Sebastian leaned in close, his voice low and daring. “I dare you to sneak into the VIP section.”
My heart raced at the challenge, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through me. I nodded, a mischievous smile spreading across my lips. We managed to slip past the bouncer, our playful antics drawing amused glances and laughter from other patrons. Eventually, we were caught and kicked out, but it only added to the thrill of the night.
Afterward, we wandered to a quiet corner of a nearby park. The city’s lights twinkled around us, casting a magical glow over the moment. We were still giddy from our escapade, and the adrenaline made every touch and glance more charged. Sebastian pulled me close, and our lips met in a heated kiss.The world around us seemed to disappear as we stumbled into a secluded area. His hands roamed over my body, his breath hot against my skin. Our laughter and soft moans mingled with the distant hum of the city, creating a private symphony of our own.
The intensity of our connection in moments like that was undeniable. The wild, unrestrained, and thrilling times with Sebastian made me feel alive and invincible. Those moments, filled with electric energy and unrestrained joy, made me believe we had something real and profound.
But then, the cracks started to show. Between the highs, there were lows that gnawed at me, like the nights I spent begging him on the phone to visit me at college after he’d been away on business trips for weeks. He always had excuses—too busy, too tired—only for me to later discover he had been out that night. When I confronted him, he insisted it was for work, and I wanted so badly to believe him. There were many more instances like that, but the good parts clouded my judgment, making it hard to see the truth through the haze of our intense connection.
Now, as I sat and observed the idyllic scene outside, a new flicker of excitement sparked within me. The idea of taking a risk and opening my own art gallery felt different from anything tied to Sebastian—it was a desire purely my own.
For the first time, I wondered if Hallow’s End could be more than just a stop on my journey. Perhaps it could be my destination, a place where I could build a life that felt authentically mine.
Chapter 3
IVY’S CHEERFUL VOICE broke through my reverie as she slipped a knitted cardigan over her dress. “Vinnie! Are you ready to go see that gallery space?”
Startled, I looked up and smiled. “Oh, yes! Let’s go.”
Ivy led the way down Hallow’s End’s cobblestone streets, alive with Halloween spirit. Twinkling orange lights framed the quaint storefronts—Sweet Crumbs Bakery, Maple & Spice Grocery, and Timeless Toys—each decorated with carved pumpkins sporting mischievous grins.
Townspeople, some already dressed in Halloween costumes despite it only being the start of September, added to the festive atmosphere. Children darted between shops, their laughter mingling with the scent of cinnamon and cloves, whilst ghostly figures and cobwebs hung from lampposts. Curious about the early costumes, I asked Ivy, who laughed and explained, “We do love Halloween a lot here, but these costumes areactually for the play that the local theatre group is putting on for the festival.”
As we strolled through the town, Ivy’s enthusiasm was contagious. “You know, last year’s costume contest winner was John—the guy who owns the bakery we just passed—and his little boy. They dressed up as Pennywise and Georgie. They even had matching balloons. It was both adorable and terrifying,” she recalled with a chuckle.
I laughed. “I love that movie! I’m into anything horror, as long as it doesn’t go overboard with gore.”
Ivy grinned. “Same here. You’ll definitely enjoy our haunted house. This year’s theme isZombie Doomsday. We have scare actors, but it’s all in good fun—nothing too intense, since we usually keep it family-friendly.”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, eyes lighting up with excitement.
We continued our walk, and the town’s festive decorations became more apparent. The lampposts were wrapped in twinkling orange lights, and the storefronts displayed painted windows and spooky props.
“The parade is a big draw, too,” Ivy continued. “The local high school kids make these amazing themed floats. You never know what they’ll come up with. Although, there was that one year they went all-out with a spider theme—absolute nightmare fuel. I still get chills thinking about it.”
I cringed in sympathy. “Spiders? No, thank you! Although, I figured with your whole witchy vibe, you might have a pet tarantula or something,” I joked.
Ivy burst out laughing. “Oh, gods, no! The only creature I have at home is a cat. I’m definitely not the spider-keeping type!”
