Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
SOPHIE
The day of the gallery opening had finally arrived. The purpose—or so they’d been led to believe—of this trip to Paris. Sophie and Camille had both spent the last two days helping Isabelle with the last-minute details, which entailed everything from ordering the wine and setting up tables, checking the lighting and going over the guest list, to making calls to anyone who hadn’t responded to the invitation so they had a final head count.
When the trays of assorted cheeses and bread were delivered, the wine chilled and uncorked, and the glasses polished and waiting, the women finally had a chance to stand back, breathe, and admire their work.
And Gabriel’s.
“He really is a gifted artist,” Sophie admitted, stepping closer to look at the painting she admired the most, a colorful abstract landscape of what she now recognized to be the Montmartre neighborhood. His entire collection was a love letter to Paris, something that had surprised her at first.
Like her, Gabriel had come to Paris in search of something. And like her, he had found it. The city had made him whole again. It reminded him of what he loved most, what made him feel alive. What made him who he was.
And this, this art, this city, these brushstrokes and colors, were all Gabriel.
“I’m sorry he let you down,” Isabelle said, coming to stand beside her. There was disappointment in her tone that only a sister could understand and share.
“Want me to have a few words with him when he comes in?” Camille asked, giving Sophie a suggestive look.
Sophie couldn’t help but grin when Isabelle swatted her sister playfully. “Don’t you dare. I need to sell every one of these paintings now that I’m going to be on my own.”
“You won’t be completely on your own,” Sophie reminded her. “You’ll have me.”
Isabelle gave her a grateful smile, but her eyes were tired from more than working around the clock to make tonight’s show the success that Sophie hoped it would be.
“And maybe someone else,” Camile said with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Before Sophie or Isabelle could ask what she meant, Camille stepped aside, revealing a man lingering outside the gallery on the sidewalk.
“It’s Antoine!” Isabelle gasped. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly set her hands to them. “I’m blushing, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Camille and Sophie said in unison and then laughed.
“Well, go on,” Camille said, giving her sister a light shove. “He’s your first guest. Don’t leave him standing out on the street.”
Camille winked at Sophie and popped a bottle of champagne while Isabelle went to open the door. “I’m glad he came. Isabelle needs all the support she can get right now.”
“I’m glad we both came,” Sophie said, giving Camille a meaningful look. She knew that Camille was scheduled to leave tomorrow and that it was inevitable. She was a mother; her daughter needed her. Not long ago, she would have dreaded the thought of having to see her middle sister, and now she felt close to tears at the thought of her going.
“I am, too,” Camille said, locking her eyes and grinning. “You’re not so bad, kid. Actually, you’re kind of cool.”
“And you’re pretty wonderful,” Sophie said, meaning it. “And so is Isabelle. I just wish Hugh could have seen that.”
“That’s not how life works, sadly.” Camille slugged her drink and turned to face the room, which was quickly gathering a crowd of unfamiliar strangers, all chattering in rapid French, making it impossible for Sophie to understand a word of their conversations.
“No, I suppose not,” Sophie said, thinking of her mother, of Camille and Isabelle’s mother, and, of course, of Gabriel. She glanced at the door again, looking for a glimpse of him, knowing that at any moment, he would arrive.
And then what? She’d congratulate him. Be civil. There was no reason to be anything but polite.
But there was no reason to be anything more than that either, was there?
“I’m looking forward to meeting this Gabriel at long last,” Camille said, unable to hide her coy smile.
Sophie could only shake her head. “I’m afraid nothing is going on between the two of us.”
“But you wish there was?” Camille asked.
Sophie hesitated. “Where does wishing for anything get you?”
“Paris,” Camille said simply. Her eyes sparkled. “Sometimes you just have to fight for what you want.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time to take your own advice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Camille stared at her.
Sophie hesitated, not wanting to upset their relationship, but decided that Camille needed to hear it. “You fight for everyone else, Camille. Me, when you were worried about Gabriel. Isabelle, with Hugh’s terrible behavior. But why not fight for yourself? For what will really make you happy?”
Camille grew quiet as she sipped her wine, her gaze flitting to the door.
“Between you and me, I’m a little anxious about tonight and I didn’t want to say so in front of Isabelle,” Camille said.
“Oh?” Sophie was both flattered that Camille was confiding in her and terrified by what Camille was about to say.
“Isabelle invited Papa,” Camille said.
Sophie nodded. “Yes. That’s what she said.”
Camile dipped her chin and gave her a hard look. “And what would be worse? Him coming or being a no-show?”
Sophie pulled in a long breath and then took a much-needed sip of wine, but only a small one because by the way this night was gearing up, she’d need to keep a clear head. She’d wanted to believe that Papa would show up to support Isabelle, if only because this was his scene. But now, hearing how Camille put it, she had to wonder if Papa would go back to his old ways, and if her sister would end up disappointed by more than her husband tonight.
“Maybe he’ll surprise us,” she said brightly.
“Oh, Sophie,” Camille said, laughing.
“Well, why not?” Sophie said, leaning into the idea. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was being here, chatting with a sister who had once been a stranger and who was now a true friend. Or maybe it was the spring air filtering in through the open door, the soft music playing in the background, and the buzz of French conversation all around. Or maybe it was just Paris. And the feelings it brought out in her. She had every reason to be nervous and anxious and to assume that tonight could be a complete disaster, but right now, she was choosing to be optimistic. She was choosing hope.
“Why can’t tonight be full of surprises?” she insisted.
Camille shrugged begrudgingly. “Let’s just hope that they’re good ones.”
Half an hour into the event, there was still no sign of Papa. Or Gabriel.
At least one of the two artists had to make an appearance tonight, and Sophie was bracing herself for his imminent arrival. She had just topped off her wine when she saw him appear in the doorway, wearing his signature leather jacket.
She couldn’t help herself; her heart started to pound, and she struggled to keep up with the polite conversation she was having with Antoine. She had half a mind to slip into Isabelle’s storage room and park herself there, but just then Gabriel’s eyes slid to hers and stayed there, locked from across the room.
She waited to see if he’d look away, but before she could first, he gave her a slow smile and then started walking toward her.
Sensing a shift in her attention, Antoine touched her elbow and made his excuses. He was a keeper, that one.
“You came,” Gabriel said in that smooth voice of his that still managed to make Sophie’s insides turn all warm and soft.
“Of course! My sister owns the gallery!” She saw the shadow cross over his face and added, “And I happened to hear the artist she’s featuring is extremely talented.”
He gave a modest shrug but he couldn’t fight his smile. “So you’ve seen my work, then. Cat’s out of the bag, as you say.”
“It’s beautiful, Gabriel, honestly,” she said. “Congratulations. You’ve earned it.”
He pulled in a breath and nodded. “It was a long journey, getting to this point. Not one that I took for granted. I’m just honored that your sister believed in me.”
“And she’s honored that you chose her gallery for your first show,” Sophie said. “Your first of many, from what I can tell.”
They looked around the room. Sophie already saw several red dots next to Gabriel’s paintings, meaning that they were sold. She watched as he noted this, too, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Between you and me, I was a little worried it would be a disaster,” he said, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come tonight, especially with so many big names here.”
She frowned at him, surprised at his admission. “You were worried? But…you’ve always been so sure of yourself. So confident in your work.”
“So confident in what I do, sure, but in the results?” He shook his head. “Not so much. You see, you can love something, or someone, but it doesn’t mean that it will be a success. Or that it has merit.”
She fell quiet, understanding now. The reason for the delay of his painting. His hesitation for opening his heart again. He might come across as a man who had it all figured out, but he was still finding himself, just like the rest of them.
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry, Sophie,” Gabriel said. “For how we left things the last time we saw each other.”
She brushed a hand through the air. “It’s fine,” she said, even as her heart leaped into her throat. She felt the emotions brewing close to the surface and she worried that her voice would give it away. She looked around the room, not wanting him to see the hurt in her eyes.
Hurt eventually faded, she knew. With time and effort, it was forgotten. Or at least buried. But it was always there, wasn’t it? All the setbacks and painful parts of life, just like the joyful and good moments, were always a part of you.
Part of your story.
One that she was still waiting to tell. And write.
She let out a sigh, knowing that this, too, would pass. That she’d be all right. It might take time, but eventually, she’d end up right where she needed to be. Just like she’d finally ended up here in Paris.
“The truth is that I haven’t wanted to get close to anyone since my divorce,” Gabriel went on. “Until you.”
“Oh.” Sophie turned to look at him sharply and felt her cheeks grow warm. She hadn’t been expecting that. But then, she hadn’t been expecting a lot of things about this trip.
“You had so much excitement for this city, and for life.” He smiled. “It reminded me of how I used to feel, so alive and open to the future. So eager to see what it held. I haven’t felt that way in a long time, and thanks to you, I wanted to feel it again. To believe that anything was possible.”
“And anything is,” she pressed, stepping closer to him.
“There’s no point.” Gabriel shook his head. “You live in New York. And I live in Paris. And I’m realistic enough to know that an arrangement like that couldn’t work.”
It wouldn’t have, but she’d started to learn that just because two people were not together didn’t necessarily mean that there was never any love between them.
“Probably not,” Sophie admitted, seeing the light leave Gabriel’s eyes and wondering if he’d been hoping that she’d disagree with him. Only she didn’t have to. “But I’m not going back to New York.”
He looked at her with surprise. “You’re not?”
She shook her head, smiling broadly. “I’m staying in Paris. It’s where I was always supposed to be, it just took me a little while to get here.”
He was smiling, too, now, standing closer to her, until it felt like they were the only two people in the room, even though the gallery was filling up by the minute, the door opening and closing, the small space growing warm and crowded.
“I wish we could get out of here,” Gabriel whispered.
Sophie laughed. “But it’s your show!”
“It’s just a part of who I am,” he said. “A big part, yes. But you…I hope you’ll be a big part of my life, too, Sophie.”
She pulled in a breath, feeling more complete than she had in her entire life, and gave one firm nod.
“I’d like that,” she said.
Only that wasn’t true. Because really, she’d love that.