Jace finally moved, one step forward, careful, measured. His voice was rough, pleading without raising above a whisper. "Amy, I don't care how long it takes. I don't care what it costs me. I just need you to know… I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."
Her chest tightened so sharply she thought she might break.
Tears blurred her vision, and she shook her head, backing away again. "Don't… don't say things like that. Not unless you mean them."
"I do mean them," he said instantly, almost too fast, like the words had been waiting years to burst out. "I've never meant anything more."
Amy's breath hitched. She felt cornered not by him, but by her own heart. Every wall she'd built since the break, every excuse, every reason she'd clung to… they felt paper-thin in this room. Surrounded by proof that he had seen her, known her, cherished her in ways she hadn't dared to believe.
Her eyes met his at last.
That was when she suddenly saw it.
A picture of her sitting at the bookstore's children's corner, cross-legged on the carpet, reading aloud to a cluster of wide-eyed kids. She hadn't even known Jace was there that day. She hadn't known he was watching her.
Another of her coming out of the bookstore after her shift.
Her pulse quickened as her eyes shifted to the next. She was curled up in bed at his apartment, a paperback open in her lap, hair falling across her face. That moment had been private. Hers. How had he.....?
Her throat tightened. This wasn't just admiration. This was exposure.
"Jace…" Her voice wavered, her hand trembling slightly as she gestured to the walls. "Did you....did you take all of these without telling me?"
Jace stepped toward her quickly, his expression earnest, desperate. "Amy, listen to me. These weren't just pictures. They were moments. Pieces of you I couldn't let go of. I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you....."
Her head shook sharply, cutting him off. "The way you see me? What about the way I see me?" Her voice rose, breaking under the strain. "You put me up on these walls without even asking if I was okay with it! Do you realize how invasive this feels?"
Jace froze. "I wasn't trying to invade anything. I was trying to show you..."
"To show me what?" she snapped, her words laced with hurt. "That my privacy doesn't matter if it makes for good art? That I'm just what?....your subject? Your muse? Some project you can frame and hang up for strangers to gawk at?"
He flinched at her words, like each one was a physical blow. "No. God, no. Amy, you are getting it all wrong. Everything was meant for you.This whole night, it's for you. Only you."
But her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Do you hear yourself? You didn't even stop to think if this was what I'd want. You made it about you and your grand gesture and your feelings, not mine. That's what you've always done, Jace. You decide, you act and you expect me to just… fall in line,if only you had told me about Gina,we wouldn't be here today."
The words pierced him deeper than she knew. His throat worked, but nothing came out.
She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard, before letting out a bitter laugh. "And you wonder why I needed space,I can't be with someone who lies and keeps things from me"
Her voice cracked on the last word. She turned, walking briskly toward the door, her footsteps loud against the gallery floor.
"Amy....please." Jace's voice broke. "Don't go. Don't leave like this,I love you"
She hesitated at the door, her back still to him, her hand gripping the handle. Her shoulders trembled, but her voice was cold when she spoke.
"If this was your idea of love then I was right to walk away,i can't do this, Jace. Not with someone who doesn't know how to see boundaries. You may see me, but you don't understand me"
And with that, she pulled the door open and walked out.
The air rushed in, colder than before, filling the void she left behind.
Jace stood motionless in the center of the gallery, surrounded by the very images he thought would heal them. Images that now mocked him with their silence.
For the first time in a long time, Jace wondered if love even his kind of love simply wasn't enough.
The gallery was too bright, too alive for a man who felt dead inside.
Jace stood rooted in the middle of the gallery, his hands curling into fists at his sides as the last echo of Amy's footsteps faded. The silence she left behind was louder than any applause he'd imagined, more cutting than any rejection he had feared.
For a long moment, no one moved. No one moved as the drama unfolded. The audience hung uneasy, glancing at him, glancing at the glowing screens where Amy's face smiled and laughed in still frames.
Then the whispers began.
"She didn't look happy"
"Was that his girlfriend?"
"Poor guy…"
"What happened between them?"
"They look good together though?"
The words slithered under his skin like poison. Jace's chest tightened, breath coming sharp and ragged, until finally, he snapped.
"Get the fuck out!" His voice cracked like thunder, raw and jagged, shocking the room into silence.
An elderly man flinched dropping his wine glass. Someone gasped. But Jace's fury burned hotter. "You heard me! OUT!"
One of the staff, a man in a blazer, stepped forward hesitantly. "Mr Prescott, please....."
"Don't 'please' me," Jace growled, eyes flashing, jaw tight. "This isn't a show anymore. It's over. Get them out."
Security exchanged uneasy glances, but when they saw the wild look in Jace's eyes, they started ushering the guests toward the doors. Confused murmurs filled the air, heels clicked against marble, and one by one, the room emptied, until Jace was left standing in a hollow shell of what was supposed to be his redemption.
He turned slowly, eyes landing on the centerpiece, a massive canvas of Amy, one of his favorites, where she was laughing with her head tilted back, sunlight grazing her honey blonde hair. His throat cracked.
This was supposed to bring her back.
This was supposed to remind her of everything they had.
Instead, he had only proved to her how deeply she owned him and it had terrified her.
Jace pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, a guttural sound ripping from his chest. For one reckless second, he wanted to tear the canvas down, to rip every photograph into shreds, to smash every projector until there was nothing left but glass and silence. But he couldn't. Because even now, even through the wreckage, he couldn't destroy her face. He still loved her too much.
"Goddammit, Amy…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
.....
Amy's apartment smelled faintly of lavender when she pushed the door open, but before she could take two steps, Sophie shot up from the couch.
"You're back!" Sophie's face lit with expectation. "So? How did it go? Did he...."
But the words froze as Amy dropped her keys and collapsed to the floor, her shoulders heaving, sobs breaking loose before she could stop them.
"Amy!" Sophie gasped, rushing forward, kneeling to gather her in her arms. "Hey, hey, what happened? Talk to me."
Amy buried her face in Sophie's shoulder, shaking violently. "It was… it was too much," she choked out. "He remembered everything, Sophie. Every little thing. He put it all out there for me, every picture, every smile. And I....i couldn't...."
Sophie smoothed a hand over her hair, whispering softly, "Shh…shh.... take your time. I'm here."
Amy pulled back, tears streaking her face, her voice trembling. "I told him it was too much, that he invaded my privacy. I made him feel like the enemy when all he did was… was love me. Sophie, I destroyed him."
Sophie's heart twisted. "Oh, Amy…"
"I was scared," Amy admitted trying to wipe the tears streaming down her eyes. "Scared of how much he loves me. Scared I can't measure up. Scared I'll ruin him the way I ruin everything I touch. It was too much, Sophie. Too much to see myself through his eyes. I didn't know what to do but… push him away."
"You don't ruin anything you touch" Sophie said feeling sorry for her. For a moment, She held her, just breathing with her. Then she pulled back, cupping Amy's face so she had no choice but to meet her eyes.
"Listen to me," Sophie said firmly. "Do you want to know what real fear is? It's waking up every day wondering if the person you love will still be there. It's fighting through every fight, every misunderstanding, because you know losing them would break you. That's fear, Amy. Not the kind that makes you run. It's the kind that makes you stay and make sure everything's right"
Amy blinked, trembling. "But Sophie..."
"No, let me talk," Sophie pressed on, her eyes glistening now. "When Darren and I first started texting, I almost ruined it because I was afraid he was too kind, too attentive. I picked fights, said the wrong things, I tried to push him away, I told myself it was safer not to lean on him because what if he left? What if he saw the real me and realized I wasn't worth it? I almost let my fear cost me the best thing in my life. And you know what he did?"
Amy shook her head.
"He stayed," Sophie whispered. "Even when I gave him reasons not to, he stayed. Because love isn't about being perfect, Amy.....it's about being chosen. Jace isn't trying to chain you down. He's showing you that even when you're messy which you rarely are, even when you're scared, you are still his choice.He's all you've ever wanted, Amy. Don't be so scared of being loved that you throw away the only man who would fight heaven and hell for you.""
Amy's lips quivered, tears welling again. "But what if I break him? What if...."
"You won't," Sophie cut in gently. "You'll only break him if you keep running. He's not asking for perfection, Amy. He's asking for you. And from where I'm standing? That man has already decided you're worth everything."
Amy sat in silence, her chest rising and falling, Sophie's words settling deep into the cracks of her fear. Slowly, almost painfully, realization dawned.
"I love him," Amy whispered. "I never stopped."
Sophie's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Then go to him. Before it's too late."
Amy pushed to her feet, wiping her face with shaking hands. "I....i need to find him"
"Yh you do, I'd wait here" Sophie said standing up too.
She bolted for the door.