Chapter Twelve

**OLIVER'S POV**

My heart broke afresh as I remembered the look on Gabriel’s face—a look of pain, a pain that I had caused. He had refused to come with me. I wish that he had. I would have found a way to make it work. I closed my eyes against the unexpected pang in my chest. I hated that it took me to lose him to admit that I didn’t want to live life without him. I had left my address and all the numbers he could reach me on, and now my days were filled with me checking my phones and hounding Amanda if she got a call from a certain man.
I swore under my breath as Samantha’s nails dug into my bicep, pulling me back to reality. I looked up and scanned the gallery. I nodded my head approvingly. The exhibition was a success. I needed to give Amanda a raise.
“You truly outdid yourself,” the Mayor said, stretching his hand out to mine.
I smiled and took it. “Thank you, sir. It’s an honor for you to be here today.”
The Mayor laughed and waved me off, but it didn’t miss my notice how his shoulders puffed up just a little bit, and how his back straightened with importance. The young girl on his arm smiled even wider, and I resisted the urge to scoff. It always irritated me how these men paraded their young conquests like trophies. I gave a polite nod and excused myself, feeling Samantha’s eyes on me as I walked away.
I made my way to the far corner of the room, where a painting of the ocean hung. It was a piece I’d finished not long before the exhibition, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. The swirling blues and greens, the dark undertones—it mirrored the chaos inside me. I reached out, almost touching the canvas, but stopped myself just in time. My hand dropped to my side, and I exhaled slowly.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Samantha’s voice floated from behind me. She stepped closer, her arm brushing against mine as she tilted her head to look at the painting.
“It is,” I replied, my voice hollow.
Samantha glanced at me, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t seem too happy about it, though.”
I forced a smile. “Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long few weeks.”
Her eyes searched mine as if trying to uncover the truth I wasn’t telling. But before she could press further, a group of attendees approached us, drawing her attention away. I felt a small sense of relief. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss what was really on my mind.
As Samantha engaged in conversation with the guests, I let my thoughts drift back to Gabriel. The memory of our last night together was still fresh, the way his arms had held me tight as if he were trying to keep me from slipping away. The way he had kissed me. I could still feel the warmth of his body, the scent of him lingering in my senses. A part of me wanted to forget, to move on like I had done with everything else in my life. But I couldn’t. Not this time.
My gaze shifted to another painting, one I had created in the early days of my relationship with Samantha. It was vibrant, full of life and color, a reflection of how I had felt then—unstoppable, invincible. We had been in love, or at least I thought we were. But looking at it now, it felt distant, like a different person had painted it. Someone who hadn’t yet known what it was like to love and lose so completely.
Samantha excused herself from the group and returned to my side, her expression curious. “You’ve been quiet lately. Is everything alright?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Oliver, talk to me,” she pressed, her voice softer now.
I turned to face her, the words I had been holding back threatening to spill out. But where would I even begin? Should I tell her about Gabriel, about how I had fallen for him so hard and fast that it left me reeling? Or should I confess that even now, standing here with her, a part of me still longed for the way things used to be between us?
Instead, I said, “I’m just overwhelmed, I guess. The exhibition, everything… it’s a lot.”
She studied me for a moment, then reached out to take my hand. “You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know.”
I squeezed her hand, appreciating the gesture, but knowing deep down that this was something I had to sort out on my own. “Thanks, Samantha. I know you’re here for me.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was a sadness there, a reflection of the distance that had grown between us over time. We had once been so close, our connection unbreakable—or so I had thought. But life had a way of shifting things, of making you question everything you once believed.
The gallery was starting to empty as the evening wore on. I found myself wandering through the space, stopping here and there to greet a guest or to answer a question about a piece. But my mind was elsewhere, replaying the last conversation I had with Gabriel, the way he had looked at me with such intensity, such raw emotion.
I wondered if he was thinking about me too. If he regretted his decision not to come with me. Or if he had already moved on, accepted that we were better off apart. The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through me, and I had to stop and take a deep breath to steady myself.
Samantha found me again, this time holding a glass of wine. She offered it to me, and I took it gratefully, needing something to take the edge off. She raised her glass in a silent toast, and I clinked mine against hers before taking a long sip.
“To new beginnings,” she said, her voice tinged with hope.
I nodded, though the words felt hollow. New beginnings… it sounded nice in theory, but the reality was much more complicated. How could I start anew when I was still so deeply entangled in the past?
As the night drew to a close, and the last of the guests filtered out of the gallery, I felt a heavy weight settle over me. Samantha stood by my side, her arm looping through mine as we watched the city lights twinkle through the gallery windows. But even as we stood so close, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was still miles away, lost in thoughts of Gabriel and what could have been.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Samantha said softly, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Me too,” I replied, though the words felt like a lie. Because even as I held her close, my heart was still with Gabriel, aching for the man I had left behind.