11. Genevieve

Genevieve was looking at her phone, again. She knew she was being stupid. She had made herself clear to Mia, and Mia was simply respecting her boundaries.

Still, Mia couldn’t have been as committed as she said, if she had given up so easily, and that made it all that much harder not to wallow in her own misery and disappointment.

Genevieve knew that she was doing the right thing. It had been five weeks with no word from Mia. She was glad she hadn’t said yes, given that Mia had clearly moved on from her so quickly that Genevieve was beginning to doubt Mia’s assertion of love.

Maybe if she kept telling herself that enough times, she would start to believe it.

“Genevieve?”

“Yes, Penelope, come in.”

Penelope had taken to checking on Genevieve. She always had a valid work excuse for it, but those excuses were things that she could easily have taken care of on her own. Genevieve didn’t mind it, really. It was nice to know that people cared.

Before Mia, this would have simply annoyed her, but while she was committed to keeping herself away from personal relationships, she still appreciated Penelope’s concern.

Mia had changed Genevieve permanently, and Genevieve feared she would never recover.

And she was back to moping. Genevieve forced herself to smile and look up at Penelope. “How can I help you?”

“You need to come down to the gallery with me.”

“What’s wrong? Has there been an accident?”

The gallery where they employed their artists had its own manager. It must be something pretty serious if they needed Genevieve down there in person.

“No, everything is fine, but you do need to go there.”

“Why?” Genevieve wasn’t particularly keen on going down there if there wasn’t an emergency. She might run into Mia, and she definitely didn’t want that. It was sure to hurt, and she was quite happy to avoid that hurt forever if she could manage it.

“You’ll see. Please, just trust me?”

“Penelope, I’m busy. I don’t really have time for nonsense.”

“This isn’t nonsense. Come on, Genevieve, it’ll take less than ten minutes.”

“Fine,” Genevieve sighed, getting up. She and Penelope walked side by side to the gallery. Penelope was usually a complete chatterbox, but now, she was uncharacteristically silent.

Genevieve suspected a trap of some kind, but before she could think better of going along with this, they were walking into the gallery.

Genevieve stopped short in the doorway. She had never seen so many images of herself in one place before.

The entire gallery was filled with paintings, large and small, of her and Mia.

Genevieve felt tears threaten as she was confronted with a dozen happy memories. She found herself gliding forward, running a hand over some of the paintings, remembering the dates, laughs, and little moments she and Mia had had together.

There could be only one person behind this.

Genevieve didn’t have to look far before she found Mia, standing right next to one of the largest paintings—a scene of the two of them lying together in a field of sunflowers, which Genevieve recognized from one of their earlier dates.

Genevieve knew that she should say something, but she was at a loss for words.

Any words she might have said fled the scene when Mia slowly got down onto one knee, her eyes never leaving Genevieve’s. Mia took a small box out of her pocket.

She opened it, revealing a sparkling diamond ring.

Genevieve’s eyes flicked from the ring to Mia’s face and back again, her heart pounding in her throat.

“Genevieve, there are so many things I want to say to you. So many apologies and promises, but those can come later. For now, I have only two things to say. I love you, Genevieve, and I want to be your wife. Will you marry me?”

Genevieve was barely aware of their frozen audience as she walked closer to Mia, feeling as if she was in some kind of dream. She should probably have thoughts spinning around in her head. She should be weighing the pros and cons, assessing the risks and rewards. It was what she was trained to do.

Genevieve did none of that. For perhaps the first time in her life, she made a decision purely on what she felt in her heart, logic and reason be damned.

“Yes.”

There were gasps all around as Mia slid the ring onto Genevieve’s finger, her face alight with fierce passion.

“You’ll never regret it, I promise you that, Genevieve.”

“I know. I love you, Mia.” Genevieve had been a fool to believe that Mia wouldn’t fight for her. Clearly, she had a lot to learn about her fiancé.

“I love you too.” Mia let out a shaky laugh. “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Neither did I. I’m glad, though.”

“Me too.”

Genevieve stared around at the paintings. “I can’t believe you did all of these. They’re spectacular.”

“I’ve been painting pretty much nonstop for the last five weeks. Good thing, too—I thought my inspiration had dried up. I was beginning to think I may never be able to paint again… but you breathed life into my work. The memories I have with you are some of the best moments of my life, and I can’t wait to make more.”

“Me too, Mia.” Genevieve reached for Mia, and Mia reached for her in turn. They stepped easily into each other’s arms and kissed.

Around them, everyone broke out into applause.

Genevieve barely noticed.