Chapter Fifteen
Celeste
The next morning, Celeste and Ruby lay together for a moment, just looking at each other in comfortable silence. Intimate in a way that made Celeste’s heart lurch against her rib cage.
She could do this forever. Wake up like this, with Ruby beside her and fall asleep every night knowing she wasn't alone.
It shouldn't be this easy to imagine a future that couldn't exist and so she tried to shake the thought off, to push it away like she'd been doing for days. But this time it clung harder and more insistent.
Her mind didn’t want to let go of lazy mornings spent tangled in sheets, of the twins laughing at something ridiculous Ruby said.
Stop torturing yourself with things you can't have, she reminded herself firmly.
But the fantasy lingered, sweet and poisonous in equal measure.
Then Ruby's stomach growled loudly enough to make them both laugh, breaking the moment.
“Subtle,” Celeste said.
“I'm a woman of many talents. Subtlety isn't one of them.”
Celeste slipped out of bed first. “I'm going to take a bath. Order room service?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
In the bathroom, Celeste ran the water as hot as she could stand it, adding the complimentary bath salts the hotel had provided. She sank into the tub, letting the heat seep into her muscles and trying to sort through the tangle of feelings in her chest.
They had only a few days left together at this festival before they'd drive back to Cheyenne Valley and return to their real lives.
The water lapped against her skin as she shifted, and Celeste closed her eyes.
She needed to get control of herself and remember that this was just a vacation fling, nothing more.
That Ruby had her own life to live, a life of freedom and adventure and adventure that didn't include being tied down to a closeted lawyer with two kids and a family who could never know the truth.
By the time she emerged, dressed and with her hair still damp, Ruby had breakfast laid out on the small table by the window—coffee, pastries, and what looked like eggs benedict.
“You said surprise you,” she said, gesturing to the spread. “So I got one of everything.”
“That's not surprising, that's excessive.”
“Potato, po-tah-toe.”
They ate sitting across from each other, the festival program spread between them. The guide was thick, full of colorful photos and detailed descriptions of events.
“Okay, so the festival runs for five days total,” Ruby said.
“The main art installations are open all day, but there are special events scattered throughout. See?” She pointed to a schedule.
“Today there's a glassblowing demonstration at two, a photography exhibit opening at four, and live jazz on the main stage tonight.”
Celeste leaned over to look, trying to focus on the schedule instead of the way Ruby's hair caught the morning light. “What about the carnival section?”
“Opens at ten, runs until midnight. They've got games, food trucks, some kind of parade at sunset.” Ruby's eyes were bright with excitement. “We could spend the whole day just wandering around. No plan, just see what catches our interest.”
Celeste pulled the program closer. “Or we could hit the major exhibits in a logical order and make sure we don’t miss anything important.”
“Celeste.” Ruby reached across the table, taking her hand. “We're at an art festival in New Orleans. Spontaneity matters.”
“I just think if we plan strategically, we'll see more—”
“Or we could wander and see what finds us. Trust me. The best discoveries happen when you're not looking for them.”
“Fine,” she conceded. “Controlled wandering.”
Ruby laughed, bright and vibrant, and Celeste felt that overwhelming rush again, the sense of being pulled under by how much goodness Ruby carried with her.
She brought light into spaces Celeste hadn't even realized were dark and made everything feel livelier and more possible. The world looked different through Ruby's eyes, fuller and worth exploring instead of just enduring.
“Also, there's a collector showcase this afternoon and artists can bring portfolio samples. You should—”
“No.”
“Ruby, it's a perfect opportunity. You could print some of your pieces, just a few of the best ones.”
“I said no.” Ruby's voice was firm, her smile fading. “I'm here to look at art, not show mine.”
“But think about it practically. Jonas Ford will be there and your agent said he's specifically looking for new talent. This could be your chance.”
“Celeste.” Ruby set down her coffee cup. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do. But the answer is no.”
Celeste wanted to push and could feel the argument forming on her tongue, all the logical reasons why Ruby was sabotaging herself and why fear was holding her back from something extraordinary. But her expression had gone guarded, walls sliding into place.
“I can be very persistent when I want to be,” Celeste said.
“I've noticed.” Ruby's smile returned, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Truce for now?”
“Truce.”
Ruby stood, crossing to Celeste's chair and pulling her up into a kiss that tasted like coffee and strawberry jam. When she pulled back, her eyes had softened again.
“Thank you for caring,” she murmured. “Even when I'm being stubborn.”
“Especially when you're being stubborn.”
Ruby kissed her again, deeper this time, her hands cupping Celeste's face like there would never be a next time.
Celeste melted into it, letting herself have this moment even knowing it couldn't last. Ruby's touch made her feel cherished in a way she'd never experienced, not with the scattered dates in college or with anyone.
“I need to get ready If I don't go now, we'll never make it to the festival.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and Celeste heard the water start running.
She sat back down, staring at her coffee, trying to ignore the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her grandmother: Sometimes caring for people means doing what's best for them, even when they don't see it themselves.
Ruby's phone sat on the nightstand, screen dark. Celeste picked it up, thumb hovering over the power button.
No password. It unlocked immediately to Ruby's home screen—a photo of a sunset over water.
She knew this was wrong. But if Ruby wouldn't advocate for herself, someone had to.
Celeste navigated to the photo gallery, scrolling until she found the folder of Ruby's best work. Her hands moved quickly, selecting images and forwarding them to her own email. Just enough to show collectors what Ruby was capable of.
She set the phone back exactly where she'd found it, guilt sitting heavy in her stomach. But beneath the guilt was certainty. This was the right thing to do. Ruby was simply too talented to hide forever, too brilliant to let fear win.
When she emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and smelling like hotel shampoo, Celeste was already dressed and scrolling through the festival app on her own phone.
“Ready?” Ruby asked.
“Ready.”
The festival was everything the brochure had promised and more.
The French Quarter had been transformed into an explosion of color and sound.
Art installations spilled from galleries onto the streets.
Musicians played on every corner. The air smelled like beignets and the green, wet scent of the nearby Mississippi.
They wandered hand in hand through the crowds, and Celeste tried not to think about how natural it felt. How right.
“Look at this,” Ruby said, stopping in front of a massive sculpture made entirely of recycled glass. Thousands of pieces fitted together to create something that looked like a wave frozen mid-crash, light refracting through the colored glass in a spectrum of blues and greens.
“It's beautiful.”
“It's more than beautiful. See how they layered the different shades? That creates a sense of depth and movement. And the way the light hits—” Ruby moved around the sculpture, examining it from different angles, her face alight with fascination.
Celeste watched her instead of the art. Ruby, in her own way, was art itself. Just as mesmerizing .
They moved on to a series of photographs that captured moments of pure joy—a child's first taste of ice cream, an elderly couple dancing in their kitchen and a dog leaping through waves.
“These are incredible,” she murmured.
“They're about finding beauty in ordinary moments.” Ruby squeezed her hand. “That's what good art does. It makes you see the everyday events in a new way.”
They spent two hours wandering the exhibits before heading to the carnival section. The transformation from serious art gallery to playful chaos was immediate and jarring. Game booths lined the streets, vendors hawked food and souvenirs, and somewhere a calliope played a jaunty tune.
“Oh my God,” Ruby exclaimed. “Is that a ring toss with actual prizes?”
“Looks like it.”
“I'm amazing at ring toss. Watch this.”
Ruby dragged Celeste over to the booth, where the attendant—a man in his sixties with kind eyes and a Saints cap—greeted them warmly.
“Three dollars for five rings,” he said. “Land all five and you win any prize on the top shelf.”
“Deal.” She handed over the money, accepting the wooden rings with the seriousness of someone preparing for battle.
“You're very intense about this,” Celeste observed.
“Ring toss is serious business.” She lined up her first shot, bit her lip in concentration, and tossed. The ring sailed over the bottle and landed perfectly.
“Beginner's luck.”
“Skill and determination.” She landed the second ring, then the third. “This is about honor and glory.”
“It's about a stuffed animal.”
“It's about proving I can do something frivolous and do it well.” Fourth ring. “Also I really want that alligator for you.”
“The stuffed alligator?”
“It's adorable and it matches your personality.”
“I'm not sure how to take that.”
“As a compliment.” Fifth ring. “Yes!”
The attendant applauded, grinning. “Well done, miss. Pick your prize.”