Chapter 18
“Cool story,” I said, forcing a smile for the boy‘ s benefit. “Thanks for sharing.”
He grinned and hopped off the swing.
“Sure. Tell your friend thanks for crying so much, her tears probably made the grass here grow.”
I chuckled softly as he ran off, his carefree innocence a stark contrast to the storm in my heart.
**
The next few days flew by in a blur.
I threw myself into preparing for a small exhibition at a local gallery, a project encouraged by Mr. and Mrs. Kim.
“Your art deserves to be seen here
again,” Mrs. Kim said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Providence. needs your talent back.”
I hugged her and said with a smile,
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“Thank you.
33
Then, during a quiet moment in the studio, Hazel came to sit beside me. Since I had
promised to open the next exhibition to collaborate with her, she also prepared it with me.
“Rachel,” Hazel said, breaking the silence. “You‘ ve been unusually quiet since we visited the orphanage. Is something on your mind?”
I hesitated, my paintbrush hovering mid- stroke. Sharing my thoughts was not easy, but Hazel had always been supportive.
Finally, I said, “That boy at the orphanage‘ s playground… he told me someone was looking for me after I left. I’m pretty sure it was Gale.”
Hazel’s brows knitted together. “Do you think he’s still looking for you?”
I sighed, setting the brush down. “I don’t know. Part of me hopes he’s given up, but another part, I just don’t understand why
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he’d care now, after everything,” I trailed off, unsure how to put my conflicting emotions into words.
Hazel placed a reassuring hand on mine.
“Whatever his reasons, remember
you‘ re not alone this time. We’re here for you.”
Her kindness brought a small smile to my face. “Thank you, Hazel. That means a lot.”
Then we immersed ourselves in
preparations for the exhibition,
brainstorming ideas for a theme that would capture both of our styles.
Hazel suggested a concept rooted in transformation. It was about our shared journey from childhood at the orphanage to the lives we had now built for ourselves.
“I think ‘Metamorphosis‘ would be perfect,” Hazel said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “It represents change, growth, and rebirth, which we‘ ve both
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experienced in so many ways.”
I nodded, her words resonating deeply. “It’s fitting, and it gives us a lot of creative freedom. Let’s do it.”
Louise chimed in, his tone encouraging.
“It’s a brilliant theme. And don’t worry about logistics, I’ll take care of all the promotion and sponsorship. We’ll make this unforgettable.”
Having my childhood friends by my side during the preparation felt like a gift.
There was a natural ease in our collaboration, a rhythm that reminded me of the simpler days when life was not clouded by heartbreak or tangled in complicated relationships.
For a brief time, I even forgot about my lingering worries.
However, Louise eventually mentioned. something that sent a faint ripple of unease through me.
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“By the way,” he said casually, flipping through some brochures for the gallery,
“Douglas Group is likely to attend.
They re one of the biggest conglomerates in Providence, and they sponsor events like these all the time.”
I stiffened for a moment but forced myself to nod. “I suppose it’s inevitable.”
Louise seemed to catch the tension in my voice and added quickly, “But don’t stress about it. Gale isn’t a director there anymore. He won’t have the kind of influence to just walk in. And even if he did, I’ll be here.”
His reassurance brought a faint smile to my lips. “Thanks, Louise. I’m not sure what I’d do without you two.”
He grinned,
ing mer
a
nudge.
“You‘ d manage just fine. But luckily, you
don‘ t have to.”
With that, I chose to put my faith in their words and focus on the event.
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After everything, finally the exhibition day approached, the studio buzzed with
activity.
Louise insisted on showcasing the best of both Hazel’s and my work.
“You’ve got this, Rachel,” he said. confidently as we finalized the displays.
“Your pieces are going to steal the show.”
The night of the exhibition was electric. The gallery was packed with friends, art enthusiasts, and critics.
Hazel and Louise stayed by my side, introducing me to guests and helping me navigate the crowd.
“This one’s already sold!” Louise exclaimed gleefully, pointing to a vibrant painting inspired by my time in Italy.
I laughed, warmth blooming in my chest.
“I guess I owe you for bringing in the sponsors, huh?”
He smirked. “Just name your next
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masterpiece after me. “The Louise. Effect‘ sounds good, don‘ t you think?”
My friend Minnie arrived not long after, her energy lighting up the room.
“Rachel!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “You haven’t changed at all. Italy must’ve done you some good.”
I raised an eyebrow playfully. “What, did you think I’d come back scolding people. for breaking pasta or putting pineapple on pizza?”
Minnie laughed. “Exactly! Anyway, introduce me to Hazel. That dress she made is stunning.”
“Sure, she‘ 11 love having another fan.”
As Hazel and Minnie wandered off to admire the displays, Louise and I stayed. back, watching the guests.
“I think Minnie and Hazel will be inseparable after this,” I said.
Louise groaned. “Great, at least she will
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have a new friend after this, so you will be free sometimes.”
We both laughed, the camaraderie easing the tension I had not realized I had been holding.
But then, my gaze drifted across the room and froze.
Standing in the corner, partially obscured by the crowd, was a man I knew too well. It was Gale.
His usually sharp, polished appearance was gone. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and framed by dark circles. His posture was hunched, as though carrying an unbearable weight.
“Gale,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
His eyes met mine, and the noise of the gallery seemed to fade away.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words.
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Louise noticed the change in my demeanor and followed my gaze. His jaw tightened.
“Rachel, is that your ex?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my chest tightening. “It’s Gale.”
By the time I spoke, Gale had already started weaving through the crowd, heading straight for me.
Louise moved closer, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want me to ask him to leave?”
I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening.
“No. Let me handle this. I think….”
Before I could finish, Gale was upon us. Without a word, he suddenly swung at Louise, landing a punch squarely on his
face.
“Gale, stop!” I screamed, horrified as Louise staggered backward, clutching his jaw.
