Visit

Victoria stood in front of her latest piece, the one that had taken her the longest to finish, tracing the edges of the brush strokes with her fingers as she waited for the guests to arrive. The gallery was alive with the hum of soft chatter and the clinking of glasses, but Victoria felt like she was in a bubble—detached from it all. She hadn’t expected anything to be easy anymore, but tonight felt different. More tense.

When the doorbell chimed, she looked up, expecting another visitor to wander in, but her heart sank when she saw Rita.

Rita sauntered in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, and a small smirk spread across her face as she surveyed the room. “Quite the crowd tonight,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Victoria straightened her posture and forced a smile. “Rita, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Clearly,” Rita replied, her eyes scanning the space, not bothering to meet Victoria’s gaze. “I’ve heard a lot of buzz about your little show. Figured I’d come take a look.”

Victoria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Rita’s usual condescension, but there was something different in her tone tonight, something that made Victoria pause.

“What brought you here?” Victoria asked cautiously.

Rita shrugged, looking down at a painting across the room. “A change of heart, I guess. Your little one’s accident—it kind of shook me up.”

Victoria’s heart tightened at the mention of Ethan. “I didn’t realize you cared about him.”

Rita glanced at her, her eyes flickering with something that almost looked like guilt before she quickly masked it with a sharp smile. “I’m not heartless. But, you know, things aren’t always as simple as they seem.”

Victoria could feel the familiar bitterness in Rita’s words, even as she made the effort to soften them. “It must’ve been hard for you to hear about the accident.”

Rita didn’t respond right away, instead focusing on a small abstract piece on the wall. “Hard? Not exactly. I just… I didn’t think you were the type to put yourself in these situations, you know?” She glanced at Victoria, her face hardening again. “But I suppose that’s what happens when you make bad decisions.”

Victoria’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t snap back. She’d been through too much to let Rita’s barbs hit too deep. Instead, she simply said, “You should know better than anyone that life doesn’t always give us perfect choices.”

Rita chuckled, though it wasn’t a warm sound. “I’m well aware, believe me. But you’ve got to understand—you’ve been living in your little bubble, pretending things are fine. I’m not sure how you’ll handle all of this.”

Victoria frowned, her frustration simmering under the surface. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate, don’t you? Ethan’s accident. Daniel still making a mess of everything. And Zander—” Rita’s voice trailed off, eyes narrowing. “What’s your deal with him anyway? You act like he’s the answer to all your problems.”

Victoria took a slow breath, her patience tested but not yet broken. “Zander’s been nothing but a support for Ethan and me. What’s it to you?”

Rita tilted her head, inspecting Victoria with an almost pitying gaze. “It’s not like I care, really. Just wondering how much longer you can keep pretending.”

Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Good,” Rita replied, her voice a little sharper now. “Because I’m not looking for an explanation. I’m just… here to see what happens next.”

Victoria let the silence settle between them. She wasn’t sure if she was expecting something more from Rita—maybe a show of genuine concern or even a slight shift in her demeanor—but there was nothing. Rita was still Rita: sharp, cutting, and unable to shed her bitterness, even after everything.

“You should go home, Rita,” Victoria said, her tone firm now. “If you don’t care about Ethan or me, there’s no reason for you to be here.”

Rita stood there for a moment, eyeing Victoria with a mix of disdain and curiosity, before finally letting out a long sigh. “I’m not going to stay, don’t worry,” she muttered, her eyes flickering to the door.

As Rita turned and walked away, Victoria felt a sense of exhaustion wash over her. She had no idea what to make of her visit. It wasn’t the apology she’d expected—though she hadn’t truly expected one. But it wasn’t the harsh, bitter rejection either. For the first time in years, Rita seemed… conflicted. Torn, maybe. Still, Victoria wasn’t going to let it shake her. Not tonight.

Not when everything felt so fragile already.

Victoria watched Rita leave, her footsteps fading with each passing second. The gallery felt a little quieter now, though the clinking of glasses and soft hum of conversations still filled the space. She should have felt a sense of relief, but instead, a knot tightened in her stomach. Rita’s words echoed in her mind, a mix of sarcasm and veiled concern. What had really brought her here?

She shook her head, trying to refocus on the exhibit. It wasn’t Rita she needed to be concerned about. It was herself, her son, and the life she was trying to build again, despite the chaos surrounding her.

She walked over to one of her paintings, a large abstract piece that had come together only after months of frustration. The brushstrokes, bold and erratic, reflected her inner turmoil, the fear and uncertainty she’d carried for so long. It was a release, each layer of color adding depth to the emotions she’d been carrying. But now, the weight of Rita’s visit pressed down on her.

“Victoria.”

She turned quickly at the sound of Zander’s voice, her heart lifting slightly at the sight of him. He was standing at the entrance, his usual confident posture softened with an uncertainty she hadn’t seen before. He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You okay?” Zander asked, stepping closer.

Victoria nodded, though the gesture felt more automatic than genuine. “Yeah, just… Rita, you know? She’s been… a lot lately.”

Zander’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What did she want?”

“Not much. Just…” Victoria hesitated, unsure of how to explain the encounter. “She said some things. About Ethan. About Daniel. About me. I don’t know. It feels like she’s trying to poke at old wounds, things I thought I’d gotten past.”

Zander frowned, his gaze sharpening. “She’s wrong, you know that, right?”

Victoria met his eyes, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity there. “I know,” she said quietly, though her voice wavered slightly. “But it’s hard sometimes. She still has a way of making me feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Zander took a step closer, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. “You’re doing fine, Victoria. You’ve been through more than most people ever will, and you’re still standing. Don’t let her get to you.”

Victoria looked at him, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Zander. I really needed to hear that.”

There was a brief silence between them, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift just a little. It wasn’t a solution, it wasn’t a fix, but it felt like a small anchor in the storm. As much as Rita’s visit had rattled her, Zander’s presence was a reminder that she wasn’t alone.

The door to the gallery creaked open again, and Victoria’s smile faded as she saw Daniel stepping in, his expression unreadable.

“Victoria,” he greeted coolly, his eyes scanning the room before settling on her.

Zander’s posture stiffened immediately, but he didn’t say anything. The tension in the air was palpable as Daniel’s gaze lingered on Victoria for a beat too long, before shifting back to the room full of people.

“I just came by to see how it’s going,” Daniel said, though it sounded more like an excuse than anything genuine.

Victoria squared her shoulders. “It’s going fine. Thanks for stopping by.”

There was a flicker of something—an emotion Victoria couldn’t quite place—crossing Daniel’s face, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t approach any further, simply standing near the entrance, watching the crowd.

Zander’s hand brushed against Victoria’s again, a silent gesture of solidarity. She gave him a small nod, grateful for his support.

The exhibit was supposed to be a celebration, a moment of pride for everything she had built, everything she had overcome. But with Rita’s barbed comments and Daniel’s unexpected presence, it felt more like a battlefield. Still, Victoria couldn’t let it get to her. Not tonight.

For now, she would focus on what mattered: her art, her son, and the life she was reclaiming piece by piece.

The room hummed with the soft murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. Despite the tension that clung to the air, Victoria tried to stay focused, her gaze flickering between the paintings on the wall and the people milling about, but her mind kept drifting back to Daniel.

It had been years since she’d seen him like this—so detached, almost cold, as if he were just another observer in the room instead of the man who had once claimed to love her.

She hadn’t expected him to show up, not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing in the doorway like a ghost of the past, his eyes skimming over the crowd before landing on her with that same inscrutable look.

She swallowed hard, but she didn’t flinch. The last time he’d entered her life like this, it had shattered her in ways she didn’t even understand at the time.

Victoria had to remind herself that she was stronger now. She couldn’t let him affect her the way he used to.

Zander’s presence beside her was a small comfort, but even now, as she looked at him, she could feel the walls she’d built between them slowly start to crumble.

The quiet intimacy they shared was something she hadn’t allowed herself to experience for a long time, not since the mess with Daniel. But here, in the quiet moments when no one else was looking, she could almost feel her heart soften, just a little.

Zander gave her a look—a quiet reassurance without words—before turning his attention back to the people in the room, his posture protective but relaxed. He was so calm, so steady, and she realized that was exactly what she needed. But even in his company, the shadows of her past still loomed. Daniel’s presence only made it worse.

She turned to Zander and spoke in a low voice, careful not to draw attention. “I didn’t expect him to show up.”

Zander’s jaw tightened slightly. “Neither did I.”

Victoria glanced at him, her heart pounding a little harder at the protective intensity in his eyes. “He’s… different. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s cold, like he’s not even here. But he’s still watching me. Watching us.”

Zander took a deep breath. “Don’t let him get to you, Victoria. You’ve been through too much to let him have any more power over you.”

“I’m trying,” she murmured. “I really am.”

“Good,” he replied. “You’re doing great. Don’t let him take that from you. Not tonight.”

Victoria nodded, but the unease still clung to her. She glanced over her shoulder at Daniel once more. He hadn’t moved, still standing near the entrance like some sort of silent observer. He seemed completely uninterested in the exhibit, his gaze fixed somewhere off in the distance as if he were waiting for something to happen. Maybe he was waiting for her to come to him. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore.

Zander placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a steadying touch that grounded her, and for a moment, she let herself lean into the comfort it offered. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until now. The weight of her past, of everything she had carried for so long, felt just a little bit lighter in his presence.

“Hey,” Zander said, his voice soft but firm. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can. He’s not going to get away with anything tonight.”

Victoria shook her head quickly, almost instinctively. “No. I can handle him. I just… I need a moment.”

Zander didn’t argue, just gave her a small, knowing nod before stepping back. His expression softened as he studied her, his blue eyes warm and unwavering. “Whenever you’re ready, we can leave. But this night is yours, okay? Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

Victoria felt her chest tighten at his words. They meant more than she could say. More than she had ever allowed herself to believe. Zander had always been there for her, even when she didn’t know it. In a way, he was the one constant she could count on.

No matter what happened with Daniel, Zander was different. He didn’t want anything from her except the truth. And she was starting to believe that, in this moment, she was finally allowed to live it.

As she looked back at Daniel, his cold eyes meeting hers across the room, Victoria realized something: it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t hold any power over her. Not like he used to. Not now.

Her gaze softened, and she exhaled slowly, letting go of the weight that had kept her tied to him for so long. Tonight was about her—about the woman she had become, the artist she had fought so hard to be, and the life she was building with people who cared about her.

Zander was right. This night was hers. She wasn’t going to let anyone, especially Daniel, take that away from her.