Chapter59
When I entered my gallery the following morning, I took a deep breath and inhaled the slight aroma of newly painted rooms and varnish.
We were two weeks away from opening, and the room was really coming together. It was a mixture of excitement and fear all mixed into one. My attention was suddenly drawn away from my thoughts as I heard a knock at the door. I had just started organizing some display pieces.
I turned around, half-expecting to see my helper, but as I did so, I saw Tyler standing there.
I was briefly taken aback by his sudden presence, and I blinked in response. It had been years since he had previously visited in this manner, and the manner in which he stood, with his hands stuffed into his pockets and a tightness around his mouth, made it quite evident that he was not simply there to say hello.
"Tyler," I answered, noticing that my heart rate was quickening. "Have I forgotten about a meeting that we might have?"
He gave a small shake of his head while his eyes wandered about the room as if he were taking everything in. Oh, no, I simply... I heard from Greg that Caleb's back in town."
Ah. So that was it.
I mustered a light laugh, trying to shake it off. "New York is his hometown. He's going to come back at some point."
Tyler stepped in, his sneakers booming against the shiny floor.
"Right, but Greg said he saw you two at the gallery opening last night." His eyes narrowed a fraction, studying me. "Guess he didn't waste any time reconnecting with you."
There it was, an edge in his voice. It wasn't a nice catch-up after all, and I could feel the worry pouring off him.
"He showed up at an event I was attending. That's all," I replied, keeping my tone calm. But Tyler's look lingered, as if he didn't fully believe me.
His demeanor didn't waver, staying austere and unreadable.
"I'm not here to judge," he replied, selecting his words carefully. "I just... You've worked so hard for this, for your show. And I'd hate to see anything hurt that."
His fear, as well-intentioned as it might be, only managed to strike a nerve. I crossed my arms, leveling my gaze.
"Tyler, I appreciate your concern, but my personal life is just that.. personal.
Tyler nodded, his jaw stiff, then peered around the room again, this time with a softer face. "Place looks great," he answered, his voice softer. "Just like you always wanted."
"Thanks." I hesitated, unsure where this talk was going. But he didn't say anything else, simply kept looking around, fingers tapping against his leg. I waited, knowing him well enough to feel he had more on his mind.
Finally, he broke the quiet. "Do you remember when we used to talk about opening a place like this? How we'd joke about hanging our photos on the wall and acting we were art connoisseurs?" His lips curled up in a small smile, and I felt the tug of memories. Those late nights, stupid dreams.. we'd shared a lot. But that was before everything had fallen between us.
Before he'd picked someone else.
"Yeah," I replied slowly, examining his face for some sign of what he was actually getting at. "I remember."
He took a step forward, his eyes real. "I know I... I took things for granted back then. I guess, seeing you now, understanding how far you've come... I can't help but feel like I missed out."
The words hit harder than I expected, pulling up a mix of feelings I thought I'd buried. "Tyler," I continued, picking my words carefully, "you were the one who ended things. I didn't just walk away."
"I know." His voice was barely a whisper. "And I regret it. More than you realize."
My throat clenched, anger slipping in alongside the hurt. He'd made his choice. He couldn't just return now and expect me to forget the way he'd devastated me. But before I could answer, he spoke again.
"It's just... seeing you with Caleb last night," he started, eyes narrowing, "it's like he's picking up where we left off. And I... I can't handle the thought of him being with you."
My patience snapped. "You don't get to feel possessive, Tyler. Not after everything."
He took a step back, palms out in surrender, yet his face remained angry. "I know I have no right. But it doesn't mean I don't still care."
The words lingered heavy in the air, like a confession in a courtroom. I stood there, stunned, my heart pumping.
"I can't explain it," Tyler said, his voice quiet but focused. "I just know that seeing you with someone else... it drives me crazy. And I can't shake this feeling that you were always supposed to be mine."
audacity of that sentence almost made me laugh. "Tyler, you and I haven't been 'ours' for a long time."
A silence stretched between us, dense with words left unsaid, with hurt and betrayal that couldn't simply go.
Finally, he looked away, his shoulders slumping just a bit. "I just don't want to lose you to him," he mumbled.
"That's not your decision to make," I responded, the words harder than I intended.
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I get it. I just... I thought maybe, we could..."
"I can't go back," I interrupted, the hardness in my voice shocking even me. "Not to that place, Tyler. Not after how things ended."
"Not after how things ended?" Tyler's brow wrinkled. "Nicole, we weren't even together when..."
"No," I yelled, my voice breaking with anger. "But you were the reason I was at that stupid hospital in the first place. If it wasn't for that fight we had, I wouldn't have been so upset, I wouldn't have tripped..." The memories was still new, the hurt still sharp. "I lost my baby because of you. I almost died because of you! Forgotten so soon??!"
Tyler's features relaxed, his jaw knotted with guilt.
"I'm... I'm very sorry," he breathed. "I can't even begin to imagine how much pain that must have caused you. I had no idea."
His apology hung in the air like a weight, too little and too late, but somehow... it felt like a release.
"I should have been there for you," he continued.
"You should have been a lot of things," I answered, my tone still laced with anger. "But you weren't. And that's something I had to cope with. Alone."
Tyler looked down, his shoes scuffing the floor. "I know."
"And now, suddenly, after all these years, you show up and think you can tell me what to do?" I asked, my voice rising. "Well, you can't. I'm not your wife anymore."
The pain in his eyes was obvious, yet he gave me a reluctant nod. "If you change your mind, I'll be here. But just... just know I'm not giving up, not completely."
He turned and left instantly, clearly couldn't suppress his emotions anymore, the door closing behind him with a faint echo.
I stood there, heart pumping, fighting the urge to go after him or shout or... I didn't know.
The past and present were tangling together in ways I hadn't imagined, and I loathed the emotions it stirred up.
I rushed straight to my workstation, hoping that arranging gallery papers would settle my thoughts.
But as I looked through my things, I spotted a small, cream-colored envelope on the desk, one that hadn't been there before. There was no return address, no name. Just my name, scribbled in great handwriting on the front.
Curious, I opened it, unfolding the thick paper inside.
"For all the art and beauty you bring into the world, you deserve the same in return. It's hard to watch you from a distance, but I'm here, closer than you think, waiting for the time to show you what you mean to me."
A shudder raced down my spine. No name. No sign of who might've sent it.
And yet, something about the words, the personal tone, sounded almost familiar.
Was it Caleb? Or maybe... Tyler?
But then another idea arose, one that made my heart pound harder.
Could it be... someone else?