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I want Mae and I’ll have Mae.
Chapter Thirty One
Mae
“You look marvellous, honey.” Mum’s approving gaze sweeps over my indigo dress before she presses a light kiss to my cheek. “I
’m glad you decided to do this.”
I link my fingers together. My gaze wanders to the exhibition hall, searching people’s expressions. They linger on my paintings, talking, discussing, seeming to murmur things about me.
What if they don’t like my first exhibition? It took everything to showcase this part of myself to the world.
“Relax.” Dad massages my shoulders. “Everyone looks satisfied.”
I give a slight smile, most likely unconvincing. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Dad.”
My parents are more convinced about my success than I am. Dad invited many of his business associates. He keeps introducing me to them as a future genius artist. If I’m getting any sales today, then it’s definitely because of Dad’s enthusiasm.
After a long chat with Dad’s circle, I find a pause to examine one of my paintings. The 111 tattoo stares back at me, surrounded by a halo of smoky crayon. I never thought to unlock my art studio and exhibit myself— or more like Aaron. I was careful enough to shadow any identifying marks such as facial features, but all the canvases are a little part of Aaron. He’s the theme of my first exhibition.
Before I met Aaron, any personal exhibition was a dream. I was a coward to even attempt it. Now, it’s a glaring reality.
The gallery’s owner was delighted with the theme, but I took a long time to decide. It’s a lot more frightening than my previous dark art. This is something I’ve been keeping to myself for an entire year.
My secret is now exposed to the entire world.
“You did it!” Sydney squeals and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you!”
“I wouldn’t dare be here without your constant nagging and encouragements. Thanks, Syd.” I offer her the brightest smile I can manage. She and Owen were there for me even when I shut them out. “Where’s Owen?”
She points at him, conversing with Mum and a few of my professors. Owen winks when his gaze meets mine. The chaos in my heart weans a little when I’m around my friends. I feel saner. Less dead. I only told them snippets of what happened, saying I met someone in my captivity who gave me a different reason to fight— a truth in some way. Despite some bewilderment at first, they accepted me the way I am. Even thinking me strong to have found safety and sharpened my muse in the darkest of places.
It’s their soothing words that got me where I am. It’s my friends and my parents who keep me from succumbing to depression. But even they can’t dry the tears that wet my pillow every night. Even they can’t refill the void in my chest.
My thoughts are interrupted by Professor Turell. He introduces me to some of his old colleagues. I greet them and discuss the techniques I used.
“It seems you had a model for inspiration, Miss Wilson,” one of them says, “Is he perhaps present?”
“She wouldn’t tell us who it is.” Professor Turell laughs. “She feels the need to protect her muse.”
I smile awkwardly. How am I to explain that?
Mum calls me out. I excuse myself, thankful for the distraction. I pick at the buffet with her.
“Do you still have doubts?” She studies me.
I nibble at an hors-d’oeuvre. “A little.”
She sighs and puts a warm palm on my shoulder. “I know this exhibition is too personal for you, honey, but you’re doing very well. I assure you.”
A genuine smile escapes my lips. I open my mouth to thank Mum when the hairs on the back of my neck stand like sharp knives.
My pulse skyrockets.
It’s... it’s like being stalked all over again. Only this time, my feet don’t itch to run. My eyes don’t stray sideways searching my surrounding. There’s only excitement. No fear whatsoever.
I inhale deep, barely able to hold my tears. He’s here. I know Aaron is here somewhere. I can’t mistake this feeling.
