Chapter 23 23

Chapter 23 23

Lily's POV

I moved to the conference room door and watched Aiden talk with Eleanor through the glass. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I watched as Aiden’s face spun from confusion to comprehension to something like gratitude.

The door opened and Eleanor came out still regal although she was now elderly and frail.

“Come, walk along with me,” she spoke to me.

We walked say nothing toward the elevator. Eleanor stepped inside and pushed the lobby button.

“You resigned your residency,” she said.

"I postponed it. There's a difference."

"Is there? Or did you give me up for my son?”

I looked at her. "I made a choice. The residency will still be there. Aiden needed me now."

“And what about what you want?”
"I needed to be here too. I just had to know he was O.K.

Eleanor studied me. "I owe you an apology. Several, actually."
"You already apologized. At the hospital."

"That was for believing Victoria. This is different." The elevator doors opened and we emerged into the lobby. "Let's get coffee."

We went to a little cafe across the street. Eleanor ordered for us both and we sat by the window.

“When I met you, I didn’t think dating Aiden was the right thing,” Eleanor commented. “Not for who you are but what I wanted him to be.”

"Which was?"

"Successful. Powerful. Untouchable." She stirred her coffee. "After everything I went through with Aiden's father, I believed those things would protect him. If he was rich enough, powerful enough, no one would be able to hurt him as his father had hurt me.”

"But that's not really living."

"No. It's not. I see that now." She looked at me. "Victoria was ambitious, polished, connected. Everything I thought Aiden needed. But you know what I saw that I didn’t see?”

"What?"

That she really didn’t love him. She loved what he represented. The status. The wealth. The power." Eleanor leaned across the table and grabbed my hand. "But you love him. The real him. The man who gets scared and screws up and pushes himself too hard sometimes because he’s trying to prove something to a father who’s been dead for years.”

Tears pricked my eyes. "I do love him. More than I thought possible."

"I know. I see it in the way you look at him. The way you came back, instead of going to New York.” She squeezed my hand. “So I was wrong, and I apologize for not having seen it sooner. For letting Victoria manipulate me. For nearly wrecking something beautiful because I was too blinded by my own trauma.”

"Eleanor, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. Because you’re going to be in this family for a long time, and I want us to start anew. Really fresh."

I smiled through my tears. "I'd like that."

"Good. So now, tell me about this residency. The truth. What do you want?"

I thought about it. "I want to go. The opportunity is incredible. It could change my career. But then I also want to be with Aiden. I love him. I’m scared that seven months apart will ruin what we have.”

“So you’re willing to give it up?”

"If I have to choose, yes."

“What if you didn’t have to choose?” Eleanor produced her phone and showed me something. "The Rothschild Gallery. Six-month residency. Prestigious. Expensive."

“How did you even know about that?”

“Because I’m the anonymous benefactor who set it up.”
I stared at her. "You?"

“I wanted to test you out. If you would leave my son for your career, or stay with him even if you had the chance.” She put her phone away. "You chose him. That said it all, as far as I was concerned.”

"I don't understand."

"I'm funding your residency independently. Not anonymously anymore. Openly. As an investment in your fucking career. Eleanor leaned forward. You have got to go to New York, Lily. You have to do this. Build your career. Be the best that you’re capable of being.”

“Except Aiden just went through hell. His company nearly collapsed. He needs—"

"He needs to understand that love is supporting someone's dream, not standing in his/her way. And you have to learn that if you choose yourself, it’s not the same as rejecting him.” She smiled. “Plus, two hours away is New York. You can figure it out if you both want to.”

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so. Because what you and Aiden have is real. It’s tough enough for distance.” She finished her coffee. "No more sacrifice — it’s time to start living. Both of you."

For another hour we discussed art, the residency, and Eleanor’s dreams that she’d sacrificed for my father-in-law. When we left the café, I truly felt as though I had not only received Eleanor’s blessing but a genuine relationship with her.

When I returned to the office, Aiden was waiting for me.

“My mother abducted you,” was what he said.

“She came to my place and we went for coffee, and she gave me a pep talk. I took his hands. “You knew she was the person who arranged the residency?”

"She just told me. She also said she wants you to take it!”

"What do you think?"

"I think she's right. You should go to New York. Take the residency. Build your career."

“Six months physically apart?”

“Especially when it’s standing for six months apart. He pulled me close. “I have to find a way to support you without controlling you. How to trust that distance won’t eliminate us. You’ve got to know that chasing your dreams does not equal me losing you.”

"When did you get so wise?"

"An hour ago when my mother threatened to fire me again if I fucked this up." He smiled. "But she's right. We can make this work. Weekend visits. Daily video calls. Constant communication. We’ll trust the right way.”

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He kissed me softly. "I love you. And I wish the best for you.” “And I want you to have everything that you ever dreamed of. “Even if that means being separated for a little bit.

"I love you too."

We returned to the Aiden’s penthouse that night. No phones. No distractions. Just us.
We stripped one another down gradually in his bedroom. Not desperation, this time, but tenderness. Taking our time.

Aiden lay me upon the bed and kissed his way down my body. He reached my thighs, I gasped when his lips hit them. He was slow, learning what made me moan and arch off the bed. When I came, shouting his name, he gazed up at me with such love my chest hurt.
“Your move,” I said, lifting him up.

I lowered my lips down his body and took him into my mouth. He moaned, his hands catching hold of my hair. I slowly worked him, taking delight in breaking every sound from him. Close up he pulled me off.

“I just need to be inside you,” he said.

He pushed into me slowly and we both sighed as one at the feel of it. We rocked together, slow and sure and we memorised every feel. This wasn’t a race to the finish. This was about being together, all the way there.

We fucked for hours, all sorts of positions, getting used to each other’s bodies. And when we must have dropped from exhaustion and satisfaction,we sprawled all twisted up together.
“I’m going to miss this,” I whispered.

"We'll have weekends. I’m going to New York every chance I get.”

"Promise?"

"I promise. Nothing will keep me away."

We went to sleep holding each other, both of us knowing that this was the real thing. That distance wouldn't break us. That we had found something to fight for.
Two weeks after that, on my final Chicago night before I moved to New York, Aiden delivered: He got me.

"Where are we going?" I replied as his driver sped downtown.
"You'll see."

We arrived at the gallery where we had first met. The one showing my work from months back. Before everything. Before Aiden. When I was a young artist, hoppin’ for a break.
The gallery was locked down and dark but for a single spotlight in the middle. Aiden took me inside and I gasped.

There in the middle of room, illuminated was Inferno. The painting I'd created. The one Aiden had pinned on that first night. The one that had begun it all.

"I bought it," he said. "That night. After the show. I told them not to tell you."

“You’ve been washing with that?”

"In storage. But I want you to take it with you to New York.” He was standing behind me and had his arms around my waist. It’s just that this is where we began. And let it be clear, I want you to know that no matter how far away we are from each other. My world’s on fire. Nothing will ever change that."

Tears streamed down my face. "Aiden—"

"Ms. Monroe?"
We turned around to see a woman heading our way. Professional, well-dressed, carrying a portfolio.

“I hate to interrupt you,” she said. “I am Dr. Catherine Wells with the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I'vem trying to contact you.”

My heart stopped. "The Met?"

"Yes. We’d love to talk about obtaining your work for our permanent collection. Your style is extraordinary. Bold, emotional, technically brilliant. We think you have a bright future and we want to be a part of it.”

I glanced at Aiden, who was grinning.

"Did you arrange this?" I asked.

"No. I swear. This is all you."

Dr. Wells pulled out paperwork. “We’re ready to offer on three works, including this one if it’s available. And we would love to talk about a one-person show in our contemporary wing next year.”

Next year. A solo show at the Met. This was more than I had ever dreamed.

“I don’t know what to say,” I sputtered.
"Say you'll consider it. We’ll wire full details after you get established in New York.” She handed me her card. "Congratulations, Ms. Monroe. You are going to do great things.”

After she went on her way, I just sat there staring down Inferno.

"This is happening," I whispered. "This is really happening."

"It is. Because you’re great and you worked hard and it is what you deserve.” Aiden turned me to face him. “And I get to watch you become everything you’re supposed to be.

"I'm scared."

"Me too. But we're doing this anyway."

He kissed me, and I kissed him back, and the world felt perfect. We had each other. We had our dreams. We had a future.

And whatever trials were to come, we’d face them together.