Chapter 55

• The first real thunderstorm of the season rolled in the night they celebrated Ellis’s official gallery opening. Her name was painted across the window in soft gold script, the glass doors flung open to a crowd that buzzed with energy and admiration. Paintings lined the walls. Each one hers. Each one kissed by a piece of her soul.
• Asher didn’t leave her side.
• He stayed close, one hand constantly either at the small of her back or wrapped around her fingers. She looked radiant in a black silk dress, her curls pinned back loosely, eyes sparkling with disbelief and joy. Her voice was hoarse by the end of the night from laughing too much, from thanking strangers and old classmates, and artists who whispered how moved they were by her work.