Chapter 10 - The Eighth Year (The Unexpected Finale)Six months later, the rain was sheeting down against the large glass windows of Portland’s most prestigious downtown art gallery. Inside, the room was packed with critics, collectors, and flashing cameras, all gathered for the opening night of Lily’s solo exhibition—titled, simply, The Threshold.
I stood near the back of the gallery, holding a cup of black coffee, watching Lily from a distance as she spoke with a reporter near her centerpiece painting. She looked radiant in a deep indigo dress that caught the gallery lights.
Everything had changed. Noah and I hadn't spoken in half a year—a silence heavy with grief and stubborn pride, though mutual friends whispered he was slowly coming around, watching her success from afar. The fallout had been brutal, messy, and real.
And yet, standing here tonight, I didn't regret a single second of it.
Lily excused herself from the reporter, her eyes scanning the crowded room until they locked onto mine. A slow, familiar, mischievous smile spread across her face—the exact same smile that had nearly broken my futon, and my life, six months ago.
She walked through the crowd, weaving past art critics and flashing cameras, until she was standing right in front of me.
"You look tense, audio boy," she murmured, reaching out to straighten the collar of my jacket, her fingers warm against my chest. "Relax. There isn't a broken futon or a flooded basement in sight."
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"I'm just admiring the art," I whispered, looking down into her bright eyes as I wrapped my arms gently around her waist, pulling her close in front of the entire Portland elite. "Though I hear the artist is notoriously difficult to live with."
Lily laughed, resting her head against my shoulder as the cameras flashed around us, capturing the moment for the morning papers. "She's worth every single headache, Ethan. Trust me."
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