Lena
I tried my best to hurry myself back into my routine after leaving Raymond’s house. Work helped distract , even if only for a little while. Sylvia had been nothing but kind to since the day I arrived. My stay at her family house had been surprisingly stress-free, with her mother constantly fussing over my well-being as though I were her own daughter.
But despite their kindness, I couldn’t take my mind off Raymond.
No matter how hard I tried, thoughts of him kept creeping back into my mind. His eyes... the way they always seed to hold in place whenever he looked at . Or maybe it was those strong arms that wrapped around so firmly, never letting fall. I missed his embrace. I missed the warmth that ca with it.
Sotis I caught myself staring blankly into space, completely lost in mories. Sylvia noticed, of course, but she never pushed to talk about it. She gave the privacy I needed without probing, and for that I was grateful.
Still, I knew I couldn’t stay in her house forever.
They had done more than enough for already, and I didn’t want to burden them with my presence. Even though Sylvia and her mother repeatedly told it was perfectly fine for to stay as long as I wanted, I didn’t feel right about it.
It was ti I started taking care of myself again.
The thought brought a small smile to my face.
And that was how Sylvia and I ended up spending the afternoon driving around the city, searching for a suitable place for to live.
"What about this one, Miss Smith? Do you like it?"
The agent turned toward expectantly as we stood in the middle of a modest but elegant apartnt.
"It’s the only unit left in this building," she added quickly. "What do you say, Miss Smith?"
Her eyes held a clear sense of anticipation.
"I love it," I told her honestly.
And I truly did. The mont I stepped inside, I had already decided I wanted it even before she asked. The apartnt wasn’t extravagant, but it was comfortable and quiet. Large windows allowed sunlight to spill across the wooden floors, and the space felt warm and welcoming.
It t every requirent I had in mind.
"Well, that’s wonderful news," the agent said with a bright smile. "All you need to do is co to our office tomorrow. We’ll go over a paynt plan, you can make the first installnt, sign a few docunts, and the house will officially be yours."
"That works perfectly for ," I replied with a small smile.
"Great. I’ll be expecting you tomorrow then. Have a lovely day, Miss Smith... Sylvia."
Sylvia waved cheerfully. It was obvious they knew each other well; apparently, they went way back.
As the agent left, Sylvia turned to .
"Lena, we have to get back ho now or we won’t make it to today’s art exhibition."
I hesitated imdiately.
"Are you sure you want to bring along?" I asked nervously. "What will people say when I show up without Raymond? Won’t they just start speculating that we’ve broken up?"
The thought alone made uneasy.
"I don’t want to cause trouble for him," I continued quietly. "Besides... he warned not to appear before him."
The words tasted like ash in my mouth.
Sylvia scoffed loudly.
"Co on. Vegas City doesn’t belong to Raymond," she said firmly. "He doesn’t get to dictate where you go and where you shouldn’t go."
She crossed her arms.
"If anything, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around. And why do you even care about what the press says? If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them it’s a girls’ night. That will shut down any rumors."
She shrugged casually.
"And besides, it shouldn’t be your job to fix anything. He started this ss, didn’t he? Let him deal with the consequences."
Her words slowly eased the tension in my chest.
She was right.
It was his ss.
Why should I be the one worrying about it?
I finally turned toward her with a smile.
"You’re right. Let’s just go and have fun tonight. Forget about boys."
Sylvia gasped dramatically before letting out an excited scream.
"Whoooo! Now we’re talking!"
She grabbed my arm and pulled toward the car.
"Co on before we’re late!"
We barely stopped laughing until we reached the car.
"Buckle up, babe," she said as she started the engine. "Tonight we’re going to have the ti of our lives."
I laughed heartily. Sylvia truly was a delight to be around, and the drive back ho was filled with music, teasing, and nonstop chatter.
By the ti we arrived, my mood had improved considerably.
Soon we were getting ready for the event.
I chose a champagne-colored silk gown with a slit running along the front and an open back that exposed the smooth curve of my shoulders. To highlight the design, I packed my hair up neatly so the back of the dress could shine the way it deserved.
I paired the look with strapless heels and a small clutch purse.
Sylvia wore a peach bodycon gown that hugged her figure perfectly, paired with elegant stilettos and a matching clutch.
Once we were ready, we climbed into the car with Sylvia behind the wheel.
Not long after, we arrived at a large building where the exhibition was being held.
The place was grand and brightly lit.
As soon as we stepped inside, several heads turned in our direction. I had grown used to that kind of attention over ti, so I simply ignored it and began admiring the artwork displayed around the hall.
The exhibition was breathtaking.
There were oil paintings hanging across the walls, sculptures carved from wood and stone, and even intricate figures molded from clay and soil. Sketches and abstract designs filled every corner of the room.
Each piece seed to tell its own story.
"You know, the painter never actually fell in love. Yet his work went down in history as one of the greatest depictions of love."
The sudden voice pulled out of my thoughts.
I turned and saw a young man standing beside . He had ssy blond hair and an easygoing smile.
"My na is George," he said politely. "I couldn’t help but admire your concentration. I love art, and I always appreciate people who can truly see the beauty in it."
"Oh... Lena," I replied, introducing myself.
"I’m actually into design," I added with a smile. "A different kind of art, but I still love it when I see paint and brush create sothing this beautiful."
George’s smile widened.
"You should co to my exhibit soti," he said as he handed a card. "I’m sure you’d find even more perfection there."
"I’ll try," I responded politely, though I already knew I probably wouldn’t go.
"Well then," he continued, gesturing toward the painting in front of us, "do you understand what the artist is trying to say here?"
I shook my head slightly.
"Let explain."
He pointed toward the first painting.
"Look closely. This one shows a woman riding a horse while a man walks beside it barefoot, holding the reins."
I followed his gesture.
"It represents protection and trust," he explained. "Notice the brushwork. Each stroke expresses the man’s emotions."
He moved his hand toward another painting.
"And this one..."
The image showed a woman leaning back in a vulnerable position while a man stood in the doorway watching her.
"It symbolizes intimacy," George said thoughtfully.
"In a relationship between a man and a woman, both partners surrender control at so point. That mont of vulnerability is where the deepest bonding of souls takes place."
My breath caught slightly as I listened to him.
He pointed to another painting.
"And this one tells the story of turmoil in love."
The painting showed a man and a woman facing opposite directions, their backs turned toward each other.
"The artist wanted to capture the argunts and conflicts that happen when people fall in love," George continued. "Even when they fight, they don’t truly leave. That’s why they’re still standing in the sa place."
He chuckled softly.
"Love is a roller coaster of protection, trust, bonding... and endless fights."
He turned toward again.
"What do you think, Lena? Do you believe the artist’s depiction of love... or do you think there’s more to it?"
Before I could answer, sothing pulled my attention away.
I suddenly felt a burning gaze on .
When I looked up, my heart nearly stopped.
Raymond.
He was standing across the room, staring directly at .
Anger blazed in his eyes.
My chest tightened instantly.
I wondered how I had offended him this ti. Perhaps it was because he had warned not to appear before him again, and yet here I was.
Did he really hate that much?
The thought made my heart sink painfully.
Suddenly, everything around lost its appeal.
Maybe I should just leave. If I left, he wouldn’t have to look at anymore... and maybe he wouldn’t be so angry.
I turned back to George.
"Goodnight, George. It was nice eting you, but I have to go now."
"So soon?" he asked with surprise.
I nodded.
"Alright," he said with a friendly smile. "My number
is on the card. Don’t forget to call or visit my studio soti."
I nodded politely before turning away.
Without looking back again, I made my way toward the exit.
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