The lights dimmed the room. It cast a certain shadow over the crowd that turned it into an ever-flowing sea. The only lights that gave justice were the ones trapped in the pristine frames and behind the glass that beheld precious works of art. The sea flowed about, washing up to the paintings, casting their judgmental gazes upon it; whilst the rest of the sea washed over the clean, white, marble, tiled floor. They washed upon one another, sparking fires—low or high—of conversation I was sure was insignificant. Though I couldn't hear their words as their tongues flap, I was sure they spoke stupidly of the artworks on display. They could never truly put into words what each piece meant. They called themselves connoisseurs. How holier-than-thou. They were mere observers.
The sea of crowd especially washed upon our newest arrivals. A beautiful painting showcased on our bland wall, entitled "A Seventh Love". It was a beautiful conjuration made by the one and only Aria Stark. With only using shades of red and bits of hues of orange, she depicted a young woman, chained. Her chest bolstered out as she tried desperately to break free of the chains that held her back, all to get to the one thing she desired: love. But one thing can't be deciphered. Just what kind of love was she so desperate for?
I watched them stand before the magnificent work of art; their necks craning just to see it in all its glory that we afforded it. I highly doubt the same questions that kindled in my mind even reached the surface of theirs. Critique ran high within their chests, yet understanding simmered low.
"Araenia-Ilona." A high-pitched, lyrical voice intruded my ears. I spun on my heels to come face-to-face with none other than Jaime Gaskins. My blood curdled inside me as irritation crawled up my spine like the snake before me.
"Well, if it isn't nice to see you again. I've been dying for this opportunity." A wry smile pried her lips open, exposing her pearly whites. Every time I see them, they remind me of venomous fangs. They always seemed to be waiting for prey to get caught up in between her jaws before she'd get the pleasure of biting down on them.
"How about you try dying some more? I think you've been doing a poor job at it." I folded my arms, feeling the shallow goosebumps that had begun to form atop my skin underneath the cool air that flowed seamlessly through the gallery.
"Aw. I appreciate the compliment. I thought I'd been looking a little baggy lately, especially under the eyes. But now I know I look so beautiful and lively." She giggled mockingly. "Thank you, Araenia-Ilona." My name dripped from her mouth like the bile that had been choking her throat all along. Despite my desire to keep myself composed and not let my reaction please her desperation for provocation, my brows had a mind of their own and creased. My blood boiled inside once I saw her wry smile grow even wider upon seeing my unfortunate reaction.
How badly I wanted to wipe that smile off her face and smear the lipstick that falsely implied she had thick, full lips, when her lips were thinner and smaller and much less appealing; then wipe clean the makeup that gave the façade of full, straight brows. I knew damn well how crooked and lacking her brows were. And finally, pick the contacts out of her dark, brown, soulless eyes so that she's left without proper sight.
"Oh! How could I almost forget to ask?" Her brows cocked up in the silliest way ever and her eyes went wide. "How's hubby?"
My heart disappeared in my chest. It felt like a cavity now replaces it. But I breathed. I immediately know what she's doing.
"He's fine." I conjured up a smile; I'm sure she sees how fake it is. I felt something shift inside me. Weirdly enough, I felt slightly more confident. Very slight comfort managed to settle itself within me.
"Really? Where is he?" She began snapping her neck in all directions, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
"He went off for a moment. I'm sure he's doing something important." I narrowed my gaze on her once she looked back at me, never letting that arrogant connection go.
"Mmm, important; I'm sure." She swung her arms behind her back and clasped her hands, the smile on her face flattening and her cheeks puffing up with air instead as she nodded her head with her words. Annoyance streamed through me. How dare she mock me?
"Well, if it isn't good old Jaime?" A new, warmer, and more charming voice approached us. Jaime turned around to come face-to-face with none other than Nikolai.
Perfect timing, husband.
A sly, content smirk drew on one corner of my pink, glossy lips.
"Oh. Mr. Zane. It's nice to meet you once again."
I shifted my gaze to her. My smirk quickly fell.
This bitch.
The sudden milkiness that pours through her voice mixes in with pretty, pink flowers hit my ears like drums. I slicked my tongue harshly against the back of my teeth until it pokes into my cheek. I don't care. She can flirt with him all she wants. He isn't any of my business. But the audacity that has no shame to come creeping right out from under her pretentious rug stabs me to my core. Two years, and she still hasn't changed. Typical Jaime.
I shake my head at her sudden change in behavior. Even in the slightest way that her back concaved upon her rounding her shoulders and straightening her posture and fixing her prissy poise. I would tick my tongue in the disappointment that drove through me, but I refrain. Let the attention linger on them, even if just for a moment longer.
"I suppose I could say the same for you, Ms. Gaskins." He looks her up and down in a glance before landing his sight back onto her gaze.
"I love the way you've set up the gallery for tonight. It feels even more special than usual." She takes a glance around the room before finding his face again.
I could understand why she was attracted to him—why her body seemed to react the way it did upon his mere presence. There was no doubt—not even within me—that he was a handsome man. Able to catch all attention in any room he walked into, with his platinum blonde hair; eyes vibrant, evoking a striking mixture between jade and emerald, it's never mistaken whom or what he stared at; his smooth cheekbones and jawline that line up with a slight dip in his cheeks; and standing at a height of six feet something. He looked like every woman's dream. He was every woman's dream.
But dear God, I couldn't find that itch within me to hitch on his hips like so many of these desperate women did.
"That is the point of these once-in-a-blue-moon events. I'm glad you enjoy what my wife and I have set up." A courteous smile played on his lips.
"Now," he started, "If you excuse me, I need to have a moment with my wife."
Jaime glanced back at me. I saw the hint of contempt flash in her eyes before she whipped her head back around to Nikolai, her hair whipping with her.
"Of course." I heard the courteous smile in her voice. She then, finally, turned on the balls of her high heels and walked away. I let my arms fall and my chest instantly fell flat. What a case.
"Aria has arrived," he said as he came over to me, and his right hand found the small of my back. My skin nearly crawled under his touch, even though it's been five years. I brushed off the feeling, quickly adjusting myself to it as we began walking in the direction I assumed Aria was.
This party was especially for her; a grand opening to reveal her latest piece beheld on our very walls. It's truly an honor to work with her, especially after she'd chosen us over her usual opt for the Chroma Muse Art Gallery. I saw her in the distance, standing among the diverse crowd. The way she smiled with milky whites peeking through blood-red-stained lips and nodded, I assumed she was taking the most pleasing compliments and critiques of her work.
My mind stirred. I'd been wondering, ever since we found out she accepted the deal with us, why she'd done so. Chroma Muse was such a famous and renowned gallery. Whilst we held a high-profile status too, we were the mere children in the lucrative family. She'd have more of a chance of people seeing her work and more professionals engaging with her had she stayed with Chroma Muse. So why us?
I pushed the thoughts aside, though they kept trying to push their way back in. I pulled on a hospitable smile as we grew closer to her presence. Finally, her eyes locked onto us once they found us. Very beautiful auburn orbs swam in the precious gaze of the dim, copper lights above. Fiery hair curled all the way down to the midsection of her waist. Her cheeks were puffy and full, her lips wide and thin.
"Aria. It is good to see you in person, finally," Nikolai spoke first. He reached his hand out and she accepted it, shaking it gently before both their hands fell.
"It is good to see you both, too." She shifted her gaze to me and offered her hand. I took it and shook it, then dropped my hand back to my side.
"I love the radiance in this room." Her eyes sparkled around the room, up at the lights, then back down at us. I wanted to cut her words open to look behind them, but I sensed nothing.
"Thank you. It's one of the staple features of our gallery, as I'm sure you already know," Nikolai said.
"Of course. I'm glad I get to experience it in person for myself. The hype was not for nothing."
Her words sounded so sweet; like honey dripping from her mouth. I refrained from scrunching my brows, and I stopped the speculative broth that was about to stir within me.
"I'm glad you love it. We look forward to having you here more often in the future with more of your pieces." I let him continue talking. He was the best at this part of the job. I preferred to stay silently by his side and watch our clients and potential partners drown in his charm, even when he wasn't trying. He just naturally had it.
"I am curious, Ms. Stark." Except, I couldn't resist the urge within me. "Why did you choose our gallery?" I cocked my head slightly. I felt Nikolai's grip tighten around my waist. His muscles behind my back tensed.
"Well, I..." Her words fell short. But she quickly perked her lips back up. "I found your gallery to be intriguing. I didn't find it to be simplistic like all the other galleries. I read about the aura your events held, and I wanted such an aura around my painting." She looks around the room, at the walls, the pieces hung on them, and the lights that shine above her head. "It's romantic. It's intimate. I loved it when I read it. And I love it even more now that I feel and see it for myself." Still, her voice reminded me of all the flowers in spring. All the sweet honey harvested from honeycombs.
I could only muster a smile. I wanted to take her words for granted — at face value. I swallowed my pride and fire and accepted her words. I failed to feel the sincerity still, but time will tell.
"I'm delighted that we haven't let you down," Nikolai picked back up. His fingers squeezed my waist for a second.
Right. Got it. I'll try to watch my words from now on. But I can't promise to keep quiet.
"Most certainly not." Her matte red lips took on a slight sheen beneath the dim lights.
"I thank you so much for this exhibition. But I don't want to keep you two. I'm sure you'd love to spend this time together as a couple." She looked back and forth between us.
My stomach churned. My smile nearly twisted. My muscles tensed as I tried to keep my emotions at bay. They fought to spring to my surface, but I made good efforts. Only tingles bounced around inside my skin.
"We'll leave you to enjoy your night, too, then," Nikolai ended.
With a quick gesture of farewell for now, Nikolai and I turned and walked away. I became more hyper aware of his hand on my waist and almost fought to pry it off. But thankfully, he withdrew his hand, himself.
Her words echoed in my head.
"I'm sure you'd love to spend this time together as a couple."
The smile on her face when the words left her mouth. She truly believed them.
If only she knew.
—
I felt coolness flow through the blood in my feet as I flung my heels off and flexed my ankles. I sat on the edge of the bed and threw my head back, letting a long-needed sigh escape my throat. It came from deep within. I could feel peace finally reach my core now instead of the irritation from tonight.
As my composure grew, I stood up from my bed and walked over to my walk-in closet. I entered and began taking off my clothes. This dress was beginning to irritate my skin. I stripped out of it and my stockings, as well as my diamond-encrusted watch and necklace. I placed the dress in the wash basket and my watch back where it came from—the watch showcase in my walk-in closet. I unclasped all other jewelry from around my wrist and neck and also placed them back in their showcase.
I closed my eyes and roll my neck, feeling the stretch against my ligaments and muscle. I rolled my shoulders back and took my time rolling my hips. Coolness flooded throughout my entire body, calming my heart even more. Upon opening my eyes, my sight landed on the square canvases in the corner. Paint stained the once white material in what I called art. My heart slowly fades from my chest as I continued to stare at the three of them stacked against each other, using the white wall behind them for support. My chest began tightening. I raised my arms and cradled myself, rubbing my hands all about my upper arms in hopes that the uncomfortable feeling would seep its way out of me. It wasn't working. I quickly grabbed my pajamas from the shelf I'd left them on and exited the closet, closing the double doors behind me.
I threw the clothes onto the bed and began unclasping my bra. Still, slight palpitations nearly plagued me. I threww my bra onto the bed and closed my eyes once more. I drew in the crisp and clean air, yet, it felt stifled as I did. I let it go, noticing the subtle shakiness as I did so.
Not good enough yet, Ara. Not good enough.
Finally, some comfort found its way to me, and I accepted it. I stripped my underwear and made my way over to my en-suite bathroom. I stepped into the shower and turned on the pipe, feeling the instant, ice cold water pelt my skin.
Better.
I had my shower, taking my grand time. It calmed me greatly. I don't think I can be any more at peace than what roamed through me now. This was it. The greatest feeling I could ask for right now.
As soon as I get on my pajamas, I threw myself into my bed. I let my head hit the cold and soft pillow that now cradles me. Perfection was this. Almost instantly, fatigue intruded my brain. It massaged it until my vision began slipping. I couldn't fight it. I didn't want to. I let it overcome me. Soon, I landed in complete darkness.