“But I need to get home, change, and somehow get everything set up,” I replied, pulling on my dress. “Ivy and Amelia have been trying to reach me, and I just . . .” My voice caught as the weight of the day pressed down on me.
Ethan crossed the room in just a few strides, his presence a solid, comforting force. He reached out, his hands warm as they settled on my shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing the tension there. “Vinnie,” he said softly, making me pause and look up at him. “You look beautiful no matter what. Seriously. But I get it. Go home, get ready, and I’ll meet you at the gallery in thirty minutes. We’ll tackle whatever needs to be done together, okay?”
The sincerity in his eyes made the frantic pace of my heart slow a little, and I nodded, swallowing back the tightness in my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with gratitude. The way he was so steady, so calm in the face of my panic, made me want to cling to him a little longer.
He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips that was full of reassurance and promise. “You’re going to be amazing today,” he whispered against my lips. “Now go get ready. I’ll be right behind you.”
By the time I arrived at the gallery, the nervous energy coursing through me had settled into a steady pulse of excitement. The Cozy Canvas was about to open its doors for the first time. I’d handed Ethan the keys before I left his place, trusting him to get things started while I rushed home to get change and, as I approached the entrance, I could already see signs of the final preparations underway. Ethan, Amelia, and Ivy were busy setting up drinks and snacks, their movements coordinated like a well-rehearsed dance.
The gallery looked stunning; the culmination of weeks of hard work, late nights, and attention to detail. Ivy had outdone herself with the decor, her artistic eye adding touches that transformed the space into somethingtruly special. I’d lined the walls with my paintings, carefully choosing and arranging each piece to tell a story—a story of my journey, from Cresden to Hallow’s End, and everything in between.
As I took in the sight before me, my eyes were drawn to the first section of the gallery. The bold, bright abstract pieces that lined the walls told of my time in Cresden. The colors clashed and swirled in a chaotic dance, reflecting the intensity and turbulence of my relationship with Sebastian. Each painting seemed to capture a different moment and a different emotion—passion, confusion, anger, and heartbreak. The final piece in that section, the one I had painted right before everything fell apart, stood out. It was a vibrant explosion of color, raw and unfiltered, a visual representation of everything I’d gone through.
From there, the paintings transitioned to a mix of abstract art and pastels, a testament to my uncertainty when I first moved to Hallow’s End. The colors softened, the forms became less chaotic, but there was still a sense of searching, of trying to find my place. These pieces spoke of moments of doubt, of quiet reflection, as I slowly found my feet in this new town.
And then, as the gallery curved around, the newer pieces came into view. Soft pastels, gentle lines, and detailed brushstrokes captured the essence of Hallow’s End, and the people and places that had come to mean so much to me. Each painting was a love letter to the town and its people, and a celebration of the life I was building here.
I stood in the center of the gallery, my eyes tracing the path of my paintings, each one a chapter of my life laid bare for the world to see. And now, looking back, I realized how every twist and turn had led me to this moment.
Ethan must have noticed my stillness because, before I knew it, he was by my side, his arm sliding around my waist. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern. His presence was steadying.
I nodded, turning to him, my heart swelling with gratitude. “I . . . I just can’t believe it’s real,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”
He smiled, that familiar warmth in his eyes. “You’ve done something amazing here, Vinnie. I’m just happy I could be a part of it.” His hand cupped my cheek and I leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.
When we pulled back, I could see the pride in his eyes, and it made my heart flutter. “Let’s make today unforgettable,” he murmured, his forehead resting against mine for a brief moment before he straightened up.
I nodded, a little more of the tension easing out of my shoulders. Together, we walked toward the back of the gallery where Ivy and Amelia were putting the final touches on the snack table. Ivy was adjusting a display of cupcakes, her brows furrowed in concentration, while Amelia arranged a selection of finger foods with a critical eye.
“There she is,” Ivy said with a grin as she noticed me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She set down the last cupcake and came over to give me a quick hug. “Everything’s ready to go! How are you feeling?”
“Excited. Nervous,” I admitted, walking over to join them. “But mostly excited. The place looks incredible. You’ve all done an amazing job.”
Amelia straightened up, brushing a strand of her purple hair behind her ear. “We just wanted everything to be perfect for your big day. People are going to love it, Vinnie.”
My eyes welled up as I looked at them, these women who had become so close to me in such a short time. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” I said, my voice shaking slightly as I tried to keep my emotions in check. “Ivy, your meticulous checklists and planning were a lifesaver. I would’ve been lost without them.”
“Oh, stop,” Ivy waved a hand dismissively, but I could see the tears shining in her eyes as well. “You would’ve done just fine on your own. We just added a little extra sparkle.”
Amelia nudged us both with a smirk. “Yeah, Ivy and her checklists. I swear, she had a list for everything—probably even one for how to cry gracefully.”
Ivy rolled her eyes, laughing through her tears. “Hey, someone had to keep us all in line!”
“Suck it up, you two,” Amelia added, her voice softer than usual as she blinked a little harder. “Don’t go ruining your makeup before the doors even open.”
I pulled them both into a hug, the three of us standing there, holding on to each other as the reality of what we’d accomplished settled in. “Thank you,” I whispered again.
After we pulled apart, Ivy flipped the switch to illuminate the artwork, and the lights cast a warm, golden glow across the room. Just as everything seemed perfect, the lights flickered, once, twice, before steadying again.
Ethan laughed, breaking the momentary tension. “It’s an old building,” he said with a shrug, his tone light. “Probably just the wiring.”
I managed a smile, though something about the flicker left me with an odd feeling. Still, I shook it off and gave the room one last glance. The largest painting from Cresden, the one that held so much of my pain and confusion, was slightly crooked, so I hurried over to adjust it, carefully straightening the frame until it hung perfectly in line with the others.
With everything in place, I took a deep breath and turned to the door as my nerves returned in full force. Ethan’s hand slid into mine, and Ilooked up to see his reassuring smile. It was enough to give me the courage I needed.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady and calm.
I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Ready.”
