Chapter 19
Two Years Ago
I T WAS STRANGE, RETU RNING to a place that held such strong memories. Reunion weekend at Mayfield was supposed to be three days of slipping back into the familiarity of college and ignoring the responsibilities of adulthood.
At least, that’s how Luke and Sloane pitched the weekend to everyone else. Luke was president of the reunion committee, a role he volunteered for because it was such an excellent networking opportunity . Chloe tried hard not to roll her eyes at his unsurprising assessment. Lately, everything needed to be a networking opportunity, especially if Luke was going to be promoted to VP, a goal that seemed more important than sleep for him these days.
Sloane offered to help Luke with the party planning, and once Sloane was involved, it became a nonnegotiable that they’d all attend. Even when Marianne complained about the expense, and Alden complained that it was a critical time for the sale of his company, and Wyatt argued that the only people he cared about at Mayfield were the five of them. All of those reasons seemed legitimate to Chloe, but she never said this out loud because she was a supportive girlfriend.
Sloane dismissed everyone’s complaints, rented a house for the long weekend, and started sending Luke a spreadsheet each week, updating him on the status of events and providing alumni contacts. Chloe had never seen two people more excited to open an Excel file.
Chloe wanted to enjoy a weekend on campus with her best friends, but instead, everywhere she looked caused a pang of discomfort. A new library had been built out of glass and steel. Chloe felt sorry for the current students because they wouldn’t experience fighting over the second-floor nook in the old stone building. Of course, they wouldn’t have to deal with water-stained books from a leaky roof. Chloe wanted Mayfield to be the same, but it had changed like all of them.
Chloe tried to take a deep breath, but it was impossible in the tight black dress Sloan had brought for her to wear. The first night was a cocktail reception for all the alumni classes gathered, their class mingling with graduates from sixty years ago. Tonight was Mayfield’s effort to assemble everyone together and raise as much money as possible so that it could continue adding more buildings that made Chloe uncomfortable.
Luke went over earlier but not before studying the alumni list for key contacts he hoped to make. Marianne and Alden were skipping the event altogether, arriving the next day. And as Chloe edged through the crowds, she kept trying to find Sloane or even Wyatt, but all she saw were strange faces and Luke’s pleading eyes to join his steady stream of small talk.
If Chloe were a better girlfriend, she would have looped her arm through Luke’s and smiled as he discussed his postgraduation career trajectory, peppering in compliments about Luke’s dedication to whatever audience he was trying to impress.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t stand one more minute of listening to the false pitch of Luke’s voice as he tried to sound more impressive and more competent than he really was. Or maybe the boy who used to shotgun beers in the quad really did care about the best high-yield accounts for investment returns. But Chloe certainly didn’t, and she couldn’t pretend for a second longer.
When Luke’s eyes widened, annoyed with her delayed approach, she mouthed bathroom and escaped before she could feel more guilt about abandoning her responsibilities. It was easy to weave through the crowd, past the groups of classmates reminiscing, exchanging hugs and life summaries in sterilized sentences.
Chloe wasn’t sure when she lost patience for small talk, when her threshold for crowded parties and surface conversations evaporated. But it was gone. The problem was that Luke’s entire life seemed to revolve around these events. There was a time on this campus when their lives had revolved around each other. Chloe wasn’t sure how they had spun in such opposing directions.
She found a side door and flung it open, grateful for the clean Tennessee air that replaced the heavy atmosphere from too many bodies. She just needed a moment, a few minutes at the most, to power up the fake smiles and manufactured enthusiasm that Luke expected. She sat on the concrete steps, kicked off her heels, unwound her hair from its tight bun, and immediately felt herself relax.
“There she is.” The door opened at the same time Chloe heard his voice.
She was crouched like a teenager hiding their first cigarette, but she didn’t feel any embarrassment because it was Wyatt. She patted the step beside her, and he took off his suit jacket before sitting at her side.
“Where have you been all night?” Chloe ran her fingers through her hair, shaking away the hair spray and formality of the prior hour.
“Hiding in the shadows,” Wyatt admitted.
“What’s your excuse?” Chloe asked.
“I do not have money to donate, and I do not want to discuss investment funds with your boyfriend.”
“Me either,” Chloe sighed.
Wyatt smiled at Chloe’s discarded shoes. “You looked miserable.”
“Why didn’t you rescue me sooner?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know you needed rescuing.”
“I didn’t,” Chloe lied to herself and him. “I should go back inside.” She should have stood quickly, smoothing her hair back in place, adjusting her dress so that it didn’t bunch at her hips. But she didn’t. She sat, immobile, unable to force herself to go back into that room.
“Or …” Wyatt’s word hung in the air, teasing Chloe with possibility. “You could take a walk with me.”
“Where would we go?”
“To the old library?” Wyatt suggested. Chloe hesitated because she wanted to say yes but felt bound to say no. “Send Luke a text message,” Wyatt added. “Blame it on me. There’s something I want to show you.”
Chloe quickly sent Luke the message, letting him know that she had stepped away for a few minutes, making false promises about hurrying back.
Wyatt stood, extending a hand to help Chloe up. She tried not to notice when their fingers clasped for a moment longer than usual. For the first time since arriving back on campus, Chloe felt a sense of comfort. That’s how it always felt with Wyatt. They argued relentlessly and he challenged her constantly, but never once did Wyatt ever make Chloe feel like she needed to pretend to be something else. She was exhausted from the months of dress-up that being Luke’s girlfriend had required of late, and she clung to the familiarity of Wyatt’s presence like a lifeline.
As they walked along the paved paths of campus, Chloe held her shoes in her hands, unable to force her feet back into the heels.
“I wonder what they’re doing with the old library building,” Chloe said.
Wyatt smiled. “That’s what I wanted to show you.”
Wyatt opened the front door of the building and Chloe went in. She felt the cool marble against her bare feet before reluctantly putting her shoes back on. She looked around. There were signs, rooms renamed as books had been removed and replaced with crates and boxes stacked along the walls.
“Can we be here?” Chloe asked.
Wyatt nodded. “Luke and Sloane aren’t the only ones with campus connections. I got a tour earlier today. The press badge gets me all the inside information.”
“What are they doing with this space?”
Wyatt walked to the left, toward a dimly lit hallway. “I think the official unveiling is going to be sometime next year, but they’re turning the building into a museum. There’s going to be an exhibit on the history of the town, rotating displays from different departments, and a whole wing dedicated to artwork.” Wyatt pointed above their heads, to an arched doorway with a prominently displayed plaque that read “The Lily Drake Room.”
Chloe beamed. “She still doesn’t have her name on the building, but at least she has a room.”
Chloe was quiet as she stepped into the room named for the painter who had inspired her move across the country to attend Mayfield. Lily Drake was finally getting the recognition she deserved. But instead of feeling happiness, Chloe was overwhelmed with regret. None of the dreams she held as an eighteen-year-old had come true. She wasn’t sure how she’d ventured so far away from a life filled with inspiration to days filled with mindless small talk in uncomfortable clothes.
“They’ve already hung some paintings,” Wyatt said. “Look around.”
Chloe walked around the room, past portraits and landscapes and abstracts that didn’t seem to have any relation to one another. There was a small selection of Lily Drake’s works that she had completed while on campus, but most of the other artwork was from lesser-known artists. Chloe inspected the exhibit labels and discovered that each painting was from a graduate of a different class year.
“They’re all from Mayfield students?” Chloe asked.
Wyatt nodded. “Go find our year.”
Chloe slowly walked down the hallway. When she got to her graduating class, the blood rushed to her ears, shock and excitement and maybe even a tinge of embarrassment flooding her body.
Because somehow, someone had selected a painting by Chloe.
“Did you do this? Is this a joke?” she asked.
Wyatt shook his head. “I had no idea. I saw it earlier today, but I’m not surprised.”
“I painted this.” She was still stunned as she pointed at the river landscape.
“I know.” Wyatt shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s the best piece in here. You’re talented, Chloe.”
It was hard for her to tear her eyes away from the wall, displaying a painting that she created almost a decade ago. It was even harder for her to believe Wyatt’s words.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “I never knew you painted that day,” he said.
“I never told anyone about this painting,” Chloe replied.
Wyatt stepped beside Chloe, his shoulder rubbing against hers as they both stared at the wall. “You shouldn’t hide the best parts of you, Chloe.”
She swallowed, studying the painting of the six of them together. They were gathered at the river, and Wyatt had just swung from the rope, his body caught midair before he splashed into the water. Alden had waded in past his knees, and the rest of them were sprawled on towels, soaking up every bit of the spring Tennessee sun. Marianne and Sloane leaned together, exchanging whispers, and Chloe’s head rested in Luke’s lap.
Chloe painted with wide brush strokes, creating a blurry, abstract version of the scene. But the carefree joy of that hot day was clear.
“Why would they have picked mine?” Chloe asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Because it’s good. Because you capture more emotion in one of your brushstrokes than a dozen other pictures in this room.”
Chloe shook her head. “They should have picked someone who became an artist.”
Wyatt gently reached for Chloe’s shoulder, turning her around to face him as he asked, “Why aren’t you an artist, Chloe?”
Chloe had to look away in order to answer. “I’m busy at the gallery. Luke is working toward this huge promotion. The timing isn’t right.”
He shook his head. “There’s never a good time to follow your dreams. You just do it.”
“There are more important things right now.”
“What’s more important?”
“Luke has worked—”
Wyatt cut her off. “I don’t care what’s important for Luke. I’m asking you.” His last word echoed in the room, the loudness of his voice surprising them both.
Chloe took a step back. “Luke is important to me. My relationships, with my boyfriend, my friends, they will always be the most important thing in my life.”
Wyatt crossed his arms. “Do you think Luke feels the same?”
“Of course,” Chloe said too softly.
“I see a lot of Luke in your life. I’m not sure Chloe is a priority for either of you.”
“I don’t need relationship advice from you.” She felt her voice shake, even though she wished it wouldn’t. “When’s the last time you put someone’s needs above your own? When’s the last time you even had someone to put first?”
Wyatt’s jaw moved back and forth, silence filling the gallery space as they both let Chloe’s words hang in the air.
“You’re the painter, Chloe. Not the canvas. Don’t let Luke design a life you don’t even want.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wyatt’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
Chloe took a step forward, her finger pointing at Wyatt’s chest. “You’re making me sound like some pathetic girlfriend. Making sacrifices for your partner is not weak. It’s love.”
“Maybe,” he whispered. Their faces were inches apart, and Chloe could see a tightness in his lips as he said, “As long as it’s mutual. When’s the last time Luke did something just for you?”
She wanted to shout a laundry list of examples. Except that’s not what filled her brain at that moment. Instead, all she could think about were the times Luke had refused to stop at the art supply shop on their walk home, or when he had laughed at Chloe’s suggestion that they try roller skating in Brooklyn, or when he had booked a wine tasting and she had to cancel her ceramics workshop. Stupid, small things that Chloe told herself didn’t matter.
“Stop,” she said louder than intended, her voice bouncing around the empty room. “I’m not defending my relationship to you of all people. You don’t know us. You don’t even know me anymore.”
It was a lie. Chloe watched as her words slapped Wyatt’s face.
He stared at Chloe with an intensity that was immediately unsettling. “You’re right.” Wyatt swallowed slowly before speaking again. “And what a shame that is.” He pointed at Chloe’s painting. “Because the girl who made that—she was remarkable.”
Chloe’s lips trembled as she fought back tears both from the harshness of Wyatt’s delivery and her immense longing to rewind time. She didn’t want Wyatt to be right. She wanted to ignore every single one of his assumptions so that she could keep on pretending that she had everything she wanted.
They could hear footsteps on the marble floors, and, for the first time in minutes, Chloe and Wyatt looked away from each other, their eyes turning in the direction of this unwelcome interruption.
“There you are,” Luke said, his cheerful voice immediately altering the air in the room. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Chloe quickly replied at the same time Wyatt said, “Not really.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed as he walked to Chloe’s side. “What’s wrong?”
Chloe plastered on a smile and waved her hand dismissively.
Luke bent to kiss the top of her head as he said, “Why did you leave the party? Your message didn’t even tell me where you were going. This is the third building I’ve been to.”
“Sorry,” Chloe mumbled.
“Can we head back?” Luke asked as he pulled Chloe toward the exit. “There are a lot of people we need to talk to tonight. The older couples get a kick out of the fact that we met in college. I need you.”
Chloe swallowed. “I know.”
“Let’s go. I want to show off my beautiful girlfriend.” Luke kissed her cheek, and Chloe didn’t know why she immediately swiped at the spot his lips had just left.
Wyatt leaned against the wall. “Yeah, Chloe, duty awaits.” His voice was thick with sarcasm that Luke ignored and Chloe resented.
Luke tugged at Chloe’s arm once again. She stared at her painting, briefly wondering if Luke would notice. If he would pay attention to anything in the room except for his predetermined agenda.
But he didn’t. He didn’t even notice the tears in Chloe’s eyes, or the fact that Wyatt stood immobile, fists clenched, refusing to join the charade of obligations that was now Chloe’s life. Chloe left the room knowing that Wyatt had the smug satisfaction of being proven exactly right.