Chapter 74
The soft hum of conversation filled the gallery as I arranged a new piece on the center display, a vivid abstract painting that seemed to pulse with life under the afternoon sun.
I could hear murmurs of admiration from a small group of visitors behind me, their awe giving me a fleeting sense of pride. At least my work wasn't falling apart here.
"Excuse me, miss?" one of my staff members called out, her voice laced with excitement. "There's someone here asking about that piece in the corner. Should I let him know it's reserved?"
I turned, brushing my hands off on my skirt. "Which one?"
Before she could answer, the smooth, familiar timbre of a voice cut through the air.
"Actually, Samantha, I'd like to hear your thoughts on it personally."
I froze, my heart stumbling over itself.
Caleb.
He stood by the far wall, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored coat, his presence as commanding as ever.
A small smile played on his lips, the kind that could disarm anyone who didn't know better.
I took a slow breath and walked over, my heels clicking against the polished floor. "Caleb," I said evenly, forcing calm into my voice. "What are you doing here?"
His eyes flickered with amusement. "Admiring your collection, of course. Though I admit, it's not the art I'm here for."
My stomach twisted, but I kept my expression neutral. "This is a gallery, not a meeting spot. If you're not here to buy something, then..."
"Oh, but I am," he interrupted, his gaze sweeping over the room before landing on a large, moody seascape hanging in the corner. "That one."
My brows furrowed. The painting he'd chosen was one of the most expensive pieces in the gallery, its price tag a clear deterrent for all but the wealthiest collectors.
"Are you sure?" I asked, skepticism creeping into my tone. "It's not exactly an impulse buy."
He smirked, pulling out his wallet. "Consider it a show of support for a brilliant artist. Name your price."
I glanced over at my staff, who looked on in barely contained awe. My lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, Caleb would make a scene.
"Fine," I said briskly. "Someone will assist you with the purchase."
I turned to leave, but his hand caught my wrist, firm but not rough.
"Not so fast," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "We need to talk."
I pulled my arm free, glaring at him. "There's nothing to talk about, Caleb. You made that clear last time."
He didn't flinch, his expression as composed as ever. "I don't think I did. Not properly."
I crossed my arms, doing my best to appear unaffected. "You have two minutes."
His smile faltered, replaced by something more serious. "Samantha, you can't expect me to just walk away. Not after everything."
"Everything?" I echoed, a bitter laugh escaping before I could stop it. "You mean the lies? The games? Or maybe the part where you acted like I never mattered?"
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "That's not fair, and you know it. I cared about you then, and I care about you now."
"Really? Because it doesn't feel like it," I shot back, my voice rising slightly.
"You're wrong," he said firmly, his gaze softening. "Sam, you're the only one who understands me. The only one who ever has."
His words hit me harder than I expected, stirring a flicker of something I couldn't quite name. But then Tyler's face flashed in my mind.. the way he'd stood by me recently, despite everything.
"I don't think that's true," I said, my voice quieter now. "You don't even know what you want, Caleb."
"I know exactly what I want," he said, stepping even closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, the intensity in his eyes making it hard to look away. "You."
I swallowed hard, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
"Don't do this," I said, shaking my head. "Whatever you're trying to accomplish, just stop."
"You're so quick to push me away," he murmured, his tone almost mournful. "Why, Samantha? Is it because of him?"
I stiffened, but I didn't answer.
He sighed, his hand brushing against his chin thoughtfully. "You're clinging to something that isn't real. Do you think Tyler's going to fight for you? After everything?"
I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came out. The truth was, I didn't know.
"Listen to me," Caleb continued, his voice soft but insistent. "You're wasting your time. I'm the one who gets you, Sam. The one who sees you for who you are. Not Tyler. Me."
I looked away, conflicted. Part of me wanted to believe him, to give in to the comfort his words offered. But another part of me, the part that had been burned before, couldn't forget how easily Caleb had walked away when it suited him.
"I think you should leave," I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt.
Caleb didn't move. Instead, he leaned in close, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear.
"You'll see, Sam," he whispered. "I'm the only one you can trust."
A shiver ran down my spine, his words leaving me shaken as he straightened and turned to leave.
I watched him go, my mind racing. His presence lingered long af
ter the door shut behind him, leaving me alone with questions I wasn't ready to answer.