The gallery was finally empty.
All the sketches were hung.
Fabrics perfectly lit.
Champagne stocked.
Invitations sent.
And Ana?
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by tape, pins, and silence.
Tomorrow, she'd debut herself to the world.
Not a wife.
Not a name on his bank papers.
Just… Ana Rae.
Christian walked in, carrying a paper bag.
No suit.
No car keys.
Just him, in jeans and a plain grey sweater.
She looked up. "You're late."
He smirked. "Had to find the right thing."
He sat beside her, pulled out a box from the bag — small, square, no brand.
Ana raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
🎁 The Unexpected Gift
He opened the box slowly.
Inside?
A delicate, silver pendant.
But not expensive.
Not glamorous.
Just simple.
And hand-etched with one word:
"Become."
She blinked. "Where did you get this?"
"I asked a metalworker in Brooklyn to engrave it," he said. "He usually makes belt buckles for punk bands."
Ana stared at it.
Then at him.
"Why 'become'?"
He leaned his head back against the gallery wall, eyes soft.
"Because you didn't transform overnight.
You didn't wake up strong.
You became this. Slowly. Quietly. Fully.
And tomorrow… everyone else gets to see what I already do."
She swallowed hard.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Christian…"
"No diamond," he added. "No signature label. No power attached to it."
He reached over.
Tied the chain around her neck himself.
Then stepped back.
"It's not from Christian Blake. It's from the man who loves you."
🕯️ No Spotlight, Just Stillness
They didn't kiss right away.
They just sat there.
Her head on his shoulder.
His fingers loosely tangled in hers.
No PR team.
No cameras.
No empire.
Just two people
who once started in a lie—
and now sat in the truth.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
Inside, she was finally whole.
To be continued…