Mr. Warne’s hand on my arm pulls me back for one last moment. “You’ve got the gallery,” he says quietly. “Now, go get your woman.”
His words push me forward. I don’t care about the shouts from Liam or the commotion behind me. All I see is her running, dress clinging to her in the rain.
The world blurs as I burst through the doors, the cool night like a slap. The rain is coming down harder now, soaking through my shirt as I scan the street.
She’s ahead, her pace unsteady, her arms wrapped around herself against the chill.
“Karley!” I call out, my heart pounding.
She doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn. But I won’t let her go, not like this. Not tonight.
I break into a sprint, the rain splashing around my feet, determination driving me forward.
I have to catch her. I have to fix this.
Chapter 27
Karley
Ididn’tgetthechance to tell him. There was no time. Between work, school, and being pulled in a million directions, I haven’t had a moment to breathe, let alone tell him I’m the artist. And every time we’re alone, the conversation shifts, dissolving into laughter, teasing... sex.
How could I tell him? How do you fit something so big into such small moments?
I had a plan, but now… it’s too late. The truth is out for everyone to see. My identity is exposed, my art vulnerable. The humiliation is crushing. My mind goes back to that moment when I was seven, standing in the living room, clutching a drawing of our family—Mom, Dad, Declan, and me. I’d spent ages on it. I was so proud of it. My dad’s sneer, the sound of paper ripping, and my mom’s laughter echo in my ears.
I can’t stop shaking, and every breath feels like knives. I run, my tears turning streetlights into blurry streaks.
Keep going,I tell myself.Just keep going.
But the tears won’t stop. The tears keep coming, weighing me down until my legs feel heavy. I don’t stop running until my heel catches on something, and I go down hard.
My knee scrapes against the rough pavement, but I barely feel the impact over the ache in my chest. I don’t move. I hunch over, curling into myself as sobs rack my body.
I cry for every memory I’ve locked away, every hurt I’ve swallowed down, and every moment I’ve felt like I wasn’t enough.
The cold water soaks my hair, sticking it to my face. My mascara is surely running, dark streaks mixing with tears on my cheeks. I can’t bring myself to care.
I curl my arms around my knees, rocking slightly as the rain falls harder, a steady rhythm that drowns out the noise in my head but not the ache in my chest.
“Karley!”
Oliver’s voice slices through the rain, tinged with fear. My breath catches as heavy footsteps pound against the wet pavement, growing closer.
And then, arms wrap around me, strong and familiar. “I’ve got you, Petal.” He’s breathless, his words warm against my ear, filled with relief, not anger. I break apart at the sound, fresh sobs shaking my body as I bury my face in his chest.
He isn’t mad. How can he not be mad? I’ve ruined everything… Cost him his gallery and exposed us both.
But he holds me tighter, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other pulling me closer, as if to shield me from the rain, the world, my own self-loathing.
“Come on,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice steady. “Let me get you home.”
Home.
The word sinks into me, filling the hollow ache in my chest. Home. A place where you feel safe. And God, I feel safe here, in his arms.With him.
I nod weakly, unable to form words. There’s no fight left in me, no resistance to give. I want to go home with him. I want to curl up in the space we’ve built together.
I want to tell him.
