FORTY-THREE
The sleek black dress hugged my frame as I gave myself one last look in the mirror. It was elegant yet professional, just risqué enough to feel daring but not enough to overshadow Lena’s big night. Her voice echoed in my head: “Not until 7 pm, Charlie. I want to walk through the gallery with you, and you know I’ll be too busy before then.”
I slipped on my heels, the excitement bubbling in my chest. Tonight wasn’t just about Lena’s triumph—it was about celebrating resilience, friendship, and everything we’d overcome together. My fingers brushed over the delicate gold bracelet she’d given me when she first started painting professionally. It felt like good luck to wear it tonight.
Arriving at the gallery, I was immediately taken aback by the crowd. High-profile locals, familiar faces, and strangers all milled about, their conversations blending into a low hum of energy. I scanned the room for Lena but didn’t see her. Shrugging, I decided to wander on my own.
The gallery was breathtaking, filled with Lena’s unmistakable style—bold brushstrokes and colors that demanded attention. My steps faltered when I spotted it: Resilience of the Soul.
It stood out even more beautifully than I remembered. My heart fluttered as I moved closer, the raw emotion radiating from the canvas pulling me in. I bent down to read the plaque.
SOLD.
My stomach dropped in confusion. Did Lena sell it to someone else? No, that didn’t make sense—she’d promised it was mine after this show. Maybe she marked it for me. That had to be it. Rationalizing the shock, I moved on, eager to find Chasing Stardust.
When I finally saw it, my breath caught. It was brighter, bolder, and more romantic than anything Lena had done before. There was a vulnerability in it that was new. I wanted it—no, I needed it.
Turning to step away, I froze. My breath hitched as I found myself face-to-face with Luca.
“Luca?”
The words barely escaped my lips. “You’re here?”
The surprise robbed me of common sense. For a moment, I questioned if I’d conjured him from sheer willpower.
“I’m here for you,”
he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m in love with you, Charlie.”
Before I could react, he leaned down and kissed me. Everything else—art, people, noise—faded away. When he pulled back, my vision refocused, and I noticed my mom, Lena, Alessandro, and even my sister standing nearby. Lena looked positively smug.
“You what?”
I didn’t trust what I heard.
“I’m in love with you,”
he kissed me again.
“I love you,”
I whispered as our lips touched again.
“You arranged this?”
I asked Luca, my voice a mix of disbelief and wonder.
“Lena helped,”
he admitted with a soft laugh.
I turned to her, narrowing my eyes. “How? You can’t keep a secret to save your life. Remember when you told on yourself as a teenager because you couldn’t handle the guilt?”
Lena grinned, unrepentant. “Some surprises are worth keeping.”
I was in shock. Somehow, we all ended up going out after the show to celebrate. Drinks flowed, laughter echoed, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt easy. Luca fit right in, charming my mom, teasing Lena, and even managing to get Alessandro to crack a rare smile.
When we finally returned to my hotel room, the energy between us shifted. The teasing, playful Luca I’d seen all night gave way to something deeper.
“I want to make a plan,”
he said, his voice soft but insistent. “A way to make this work. I don’t care what it takes, Charlie. I want a life with you—doing everything, going everywhere, together.”
I swallowed hard, his words settling in the spaces I’d been too afraid to fill.
“We can have a place here, in Paris, in Italy—wherever it makes sense,”
he continued. “I just don’t want to keep running in parallel anymore. I want us to figure out how to make those lines meet.”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I held his gaze. “Luca,”
I whispered, my voice breaking.
He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Say yes,”
he said simply.
And for the first time in years, saying yes felt easy.