Page 146 of The Substitute Fiancée

David sighs as we move the frame for the third time.

“Sam, at this point, no one will see the difference,” he protests gently.

“I see it,” she replies with a stubborn smile.

I watch her, standing in the middle of the gallery, one hand under her chin, brows slightly furrowed. She’s in her element. Focused. Demanding. Beautiful.

All thirty paintings are hung, each in its patinated frame. The effect is striking. The frames—with their aged chocolate tones and subtle crackling—give the works a depth they never would have had with standard framing.

“It’s perfect,” Sam finally declares, stepping back once more.

An admiring silence settles in. We all take it in.

“Holy shit, Sam,” Emelyne breathes. “It’s… it’s really incredible.”

“They’re going to be speechless tomorrow,” Mara adds confidently.

“It’s fascinating,” I say, visibly impressed.

Sam blushes slightly, clearly moved.

“Thank you. Really. And thank you all. I never could have done this without you.”

“Our pleasure, beautiful. Call us anytime,” David says with a wink.

“Alright,” Mara says, clapping her hands. “We’re done. It’s past eight. I’m starving. Are we celebrating?”

Laughter breaks out, releasing the emotional tension.

*

We have dinner together at a small Italian restaurant nearby, just a few streets away. The atmosphere is joyful, almost festive. Jokes fly, laughter echoes.

Sam is sitting next to me, and several times during the meal, our knees brush under the table. Each touch leaves me hungry, craving more.

She seems relaxed for the first time in weeks. The stress of preparation has lifted, replaced by a contained, palpable excitement.

“To Sam!” Oliver calls out, raising his glass. “Who’s going to conquer Richelieu tomorrow!”

“To Sam!” we all repeat in unison.

She laughs, embarrassed and happy at the same time.

“I still have a toast to make,” she says.

Then she turns to Emelyne, raising her glass, her eyes a little too bright.

“To Emelyne. A wonderful textile artist who’s also defending her degree tomorrow and still managed to be there for me every single day.”

Then she turns to me, her gaze locking onto mine.

“To Alexander, who made me his priority despite all his obligations.”

Her eyes then move to everyone else around the table.

“To all of you, who showed me the true meaning of friendship. Thank you.”

We all raise our glasses.