The days following Nate's meeting with Elliot were a whirlwind of introspection. He had taken the folder Elliot left behind but hadn't opened it. It sat on his workbench, its presence a constant reminder of the choice he had to make.
Lia had been a steady presence, never pushing, always patient. She seemed to understand that Nate needed time to process everything, though he caught her watching him with quiet concern when she thought he wasn't looking.
One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the studio windows, Nate finally reached for the folder. He opened it slowly, the papers inside neatly arranged.
The gallery Elliot had mentioned was one of the most prestigious in the city, its reputation impeccable. The contract was straightforward, with terms that were more than fair.
But as Nate read through the details, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. This opportunity—while incredible—was tied to a man who had once betrayed him. Could he really trust Elliot now?
Later that evening, Nate and Lia sat on the porch of her apartment, a cool breeze rustling the leaves of the trees nearby. Lia held a mug of tea in her hands, her gaze distant as she watched the sunset.
"I opened the folder," Nate said, breaking the silence.
Lia turned to him, her expression unreadable. "And?"
"It's... a good opportunity," he admitted. "Maybe even a great one. But it feels tainted, you know? Like taking it would mean letting him win."
Lia set her mug down, her eyes meeting his. "Do you want to let this chance slip away just because of who it's coming from? Or are you worried it'll make you vulnerable again?"
Her words hit harder than he expected. He hadn't thought about it that way before, but now that she'd said it, he realized she was right.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know if I'm ready to trust him again."
"You don't have to trust him completely," Lia said gently. "But you do have to trust yourself. If this is something you want, don't let the past hold you back. You've worked hard to get where you are, Nate. Don't let him take that from you, too."
The next morning, Nate called Elliot. His voice was calm but firm as he explained his terms.
"I'll work with the gallery," he said. "But only if I deal with them directly. I don't want you involved in this."
Elliot hesitated, then agreed. "Fair enough," he said. "I'll make the introductions and step back. I just... I hope this can be a fresh start for both of us."
Nate didn't respond to that. He wasn't ready to offer forgiveness, but he could take this step forward without it.
With the gallery deal moving forward, Nate threw himself into his work. The upcoming show was months away, but he wanted to create something extraordinary. His days were spent in the studio, painting with an intensity Lia hadn't seen before.
One evening, as he worked on a particularly challenging piece, Lia arrived with dinner. She set the bag down and walked over to where he was standing, her eyes scanning the half-finished painting.
"This is incredible," she said, her voice filled with awe.
"It's not done yet," Nate replied, stepping back to study it.
"No," Lia said, her gaze still fixed on the canvas. "But it's already saying so much."
He turned to her, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She gestured to the painting. "It's raw, emotional. It's like you're telling a story—not just about what happened with Elliot, but about everything. Your mom, your struggles, even... us."
Her words struck a chord, and Nate realized she was right. For the first time in years, his art felt deeply personal, like he was peeling back layers he hadn't dared to touch before.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Lia smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "You don't have to thank me. Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"Don't hold back. Whatever you're feeling, let it out. That's where the magic happens."
The weeks flew by, and soon, the gallery sent over details for the show. Nate felt a mix of excitement and nerves as he prepared, but Lia was his constant anchor. She helped him choose which pieces to include, her eye for detail proving invaluable.
When the day of the show arrived, Nate found himself standing in the gallery, surrounded by his work. People milled about, admiring the paintings, their voices a soft hum in the background.
"You did it," Lia said, appearing at his side. She was wearing a simple yet elegant dress, her hair swept back in a way that made her look effortlessly beautiful.
"We did it," Nate corrected, his voice filled with gratitude.
As the evening progressed, Nate noticed a familiar figure in the crowd. Elliot was standing near one of the paintings, his expression thoughtful.
For a moment, Nate considered walking over, but then he felt Lia's hand slip into his.
"Go talk to him," she said softly.
Nate hesitated, then nodded. He approached Elliot slowly, his steps measured.
"You came," Nate said when he reached him.
Elliot turned, a small smile on his face. "I wouldn't miss it. This is... amazing, Nate. Truly."
"Thanks," Nate replied, his tone neutral.
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging between them.
"I know I have a long way to go before I earn your trust," Elliot said finally. "But seeing this... it makes me proud. You've come so far."
Nate didn't respond right away. Instead, he looked at the painting Elliot had been admiring—a vibrant, chaotic piece that felt like a reflection of his own journey.
"Maybe we can start over," Nate said quietly.
Elliot's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "I'd like that."
When Nate returned to Lia, she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with pride.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "For the first time in a long time, I think it will be."