Chapter Seventeen
Celeste
The sun was already high when Celeste and Ruby arrived at the festival grounds the next morning, both of them energized. The new day felt different somehow, lighter and easier. Like they'd silently agreed to stop thinking about endings and just exist in the present.
“Ice cream for breakfast?” Ruby suggested, pointing to a vendor selling gelato.
“It's not even ten AM.”
“Which means we're responsible adults having a balanced breakfast. Ice cream has dairy. That's basically milk.”
“That's the worst logic I've ever heard.”
“And yet you're already walking toward the gelato stand.” Ruby said with a triumphant grin. “See? I'm a bad influence.”
They got gelato—pistachio for Celeste, some ridiculous flavor combination involving lavender and honey for Ruby—and wandered through the festival eating it like children. Celeste couldn't remember the last time she'd done something this spontaneous, this frivolous.
Ruby made her do things like this she’d never expected to do and it made her feel lighter and less burdened by her thoughts.
They spent the morning exploring a sculpture garden with pieces that looked like they belonged in a dream and a textile exhibit showcasing fabrics from around the world.
“I want to remember all of this,” Ruby said at one point. “Every single second.”
Around noon, they stopped at a shaded area with benches, both of them overheated from walking in the sun.
“I'm going to get us some water. “Ruby got up and stretched. “And definitely snacks. Don't move, I'll be right back.”
“I'll be here.”
Ruby kissed the top of her head and disappeared into the crowd. Celeste leaned back on the bench, closing her eyes and just breathing. She could hear music drifting from multiple stages, all competing for attention.
“—absolutely not interested. I've seen enough amateur work this week to last me a lifetime.”
Celeste's eyes snapped open. Two men stood a few feet away, one gesturing emphatically while the other listened with ill-concealed impatience.
“Jonas, just look at the portfolio. Five minutes is all I'm asking.”
“I could spend that time looking at actual art.” The man—Jonas—had silver hair and wore a suit that looked expensive even by festival standards. “I didn't come to New Orleans to coddle aspiring artists with delusions of grandeur.”
Celeste sat up straighter. Jonas? As in Jonas Ford, the collector Ruby's agent had been trying to connect her with.
Her heart began racing.
This was it, the opportunity Ruby would never take for herself. And it was standing close by, about to walk off and be lost forever.
Celeste stood before she could second-guess herself, pulling out her phone as she walked over. “Excuse me. I couldn't help but overhear. Are you Jonas Ford?”
The man turned, his expression cool and dismissive. “I am. And you are?”
“Someone who has actual art worth looking at.” Despite her rising nerves, she kept her voice steady. This was a courtroom and she knew how to command attention in a courtroom. “I would like to request brief minutes of your attention, please.”
“I don't have time to spare for—”
“For extraordinary work that would be the centerpiece of any collection?” Celeste pulled up Ruby's photos, the ones she'd forwarded to herself previously. She hadn’t known for sure what she was going to do with them at the time, but if being a lawyer told her anything, it was that you should always follow your hunches. “Have a look.”
She held out her phone, and Jonas glanced at it with the air of someone humoring an annoyance. But then his expression changed and his eyes grew focused.
“Wait.” He took the phone, zooming in on the image. He swiped to the next photo, then the next. “Who is the artist?”
“Ruby Langley. She's completely brilliant and untrained in formal schools, which means she's developed this incredibly unique style. No one else paints like this.”
“I can see that.” Jonas was still scrolling, his earlier dismissiveness completely gone. “The use of color is remarkable. And the emotional depth is raw but technically sophisticated. How have I not heard of her?”
“Because she's been hiding her best work.” Celeste felt a pang of guilt saying it, but it was true. “She's terrified of failure, so she's been playing it safe. But this is what she's capable of when she's honest.”
“I want to see more. Her full portfolio, for one, and I'd like to meet her, if possible.”
“Really?”
“I don't waste time on pleasantries. If I say I want to see more, I mean it.” He pulled out his own phone. “Her contact information?”
Celeste rattled off Ruby's email—she'd looked it up days ago, thinking maybe she'd send the photos directly before chickening out—and her phone number. Jonas typed it all in, then looked at her again.
“I’ll be in touch with Miss Langley. Thank you for bringing her work to my attention.”
He walked away, and Celeste stood there feeling like she'd just run a marathon. Her heart was still racing.
She'd actually done it.
Ruby was going to kill her.
“Hey, sorry that took forever—whoa, you okay?” Ruby was back, arms full of water bottles and bags of chips. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“I'm fine, just hot.”
“It’s a good thing I got so much water we could probably survive in the desert for a week.” Ruby handed her a bottle, concerned. “Seriously, are you sure you're okay?”
“I'm great.” Celeste took a long drink, using it as an excuse not to talk. “Actually, I'm kind of tired. Want to head back to the hotel?”
“Already? It's only two.”
“I’m just really tired.”
“Then in that case, let’s go.“
They returned to the hotel and as soon as they got in, Ruby suggested the hot tub. They climbed in, the water almost too hot but perfect after the afternoon heat.
“This is nice,” Ruby murmured, settling against Celeste's side. “Just us. No crowds or festival.“
“Just us,” Celeste agreed, wrapping an arm around her.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the jets massaging tired muscles. Celeste let herself relax into it, pushing away the guilt still gnawing at her.
She'd tell Ruby about Jonas Ford eventually. But not right now.
“Oh, I'm so in love with you,” Ruby sighed, the words coming out dreamy and unguarded.
She felt Ruby stiffen the moment she realized what she'd said. The air between them went taut, charged with sudden tension.”
“I didn't mean—that just slipped out. I wasn't—” she pulled back, her face flushed. “Forget I said that.”
“Ruby, you can't say that.” Celeste drew a shaky breath.
“I know. I'm sorry. It was an accident.”
“You accidentally told me you loved me.”
She repeated, midway between shock and disbelief. She stood up, water sluicing off her body and wrapped a towel around herself.
“I wasn't trying to—”
“We agreed this was temporary.”
“I know what we agreed!” Ruby stood too, facing her across the tub. “But I can't help how I feel. I'm sorry if that's inconvenient for you.”
Celeste felt the first flickers of temper rise within her. “You think this is about convenience?”
“I think this is about you being too scared to want more,” Ruby shot back. “I think you're so terrified of your family's reaction that you'd rather hide forever than take a chance on something real.”
“That’s not entirely accurate.“
“It isn’t? You've spent your entire adult life in a fake marriage, pretending to be someone you're not. And now you've got an actual chance at something real and you're running from it.”
“I'm not hiding. I'm being realistic.” Celeste's hands were shaking. “I have people who—”
“Who what? Who might not accept you?” Ruby's voice was hard now. “So you're just going to keep hiding and continue being miserable? Never let yourself love anyone?”
“I'm not miserable!”
“You're not happy either.” Ruby climbed out of the tub. “And you know what? That's on you. That's your choice. But don't pretend it's about protecting your kids or your family. It's about protecting yourself.”
“That's not fair.”
“It isn’t? You're so scared of losing your family's approval that you won't even try.”
“Because I can't risk it! I can't risk losing them. My grandmother built a life here so her children and grandchildren could have opportunities. And I became successful, just as she wanted. I can't throw that away.”
“You're not throwing it away by being yourself.”
“You don't understand. “
“I may not, but let me ask you this: Are you brave? Or are you just going to keep playing it safe until you wake up one day and realize you've wasted your entire life?”
“That's rich coming from you.” The words emerged before Celeste could halt their exit. “You're calling me a coward? If I’m a coward, then what are you?”