Page 107 of The Auction
“I had some help from Shanae picking a few out,” I say, stepping closer, ready to watch her light up.
But she doesn’t.
She’s not amazed—she’s… horrified.
Her eyes fix on the largest canvas. The one she’s been hiding away, working on in the studio I set up for her.
Tears pool instantly, shimmering in the gallery light. “Why would you do this?”
“Baby, what—” My confusion hits like a brick. This is not how I saw tonight going.
Her gaze darts to the people milling about, glancing at her work. Her hand clamps over her mouth like she’s holding in a sob, and the tears break free, sliding down her cheeks.
Fuck.
“Cassidy, I’m sorry?—”
“How could you do this to me?” Her voice is soft but laced with a gut punch that nearly knocks the air from my lungs.
She turns, moving fast, and I’m right on her heels.
She bursts outside into the cooler night air, but I catch her arm, turning her toward me. “Talk to me.”
Her arms fold across her chest, her whole body curling in like she’s bracing against something. “Those are private, Jaxon.”
The words slice clean. She looks so much smaller like this, and I hate it—hate that I put that expression on her face.
“Cass, I’m sorry,” I say, reaching to smooth my hands down her arms, desperate to pull her back into me—into the warmth we had all night.
But she flinches like my touch burns. Turns away, hugging herself. Shutting me out.
“Can we just go home?”
The words are quiet, but they gut me.
I stand there for a beat too long, trying to process how the hell this all went sideways. I’d pictured her lighting up when she saw the walls filled with her work—beaming, proud, maybe even a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. I wanted tonight to be special. Something she’d never forget.
I guess I got the unforgettable part right. Just not the way I intended.
“Is this about… I know there is something you’re not telling me, baby.”
I search her face for a crack in her armor, for any sign that maybe this is just initial shock and I can explain. But herexpression is locked down tight—hurt, angry, something deeper I can’t put my finger on.
“Cass…” My voice comes out lower than I mean it to, almost pleading. “It wasn’t about showing them off to anyone else. It was about showingyouwhat I see when I look at you. What you’re capable of. You don’t know how fucking good you are?—”
Her head shakes once, sharp. “Please, Jaxon. Just… take me home.”
That please isn’t soft. It’s a wall slamming shut.
My jaw tightens until my teeth ache. My hands curl at my sides because if I touch her again and she pulls away, I’m not sure I can take it. I swallow the hundred things I want to say—explanations, apologies, the truth about why I wanted this night, about how long I’ve loved her. None of it will land right now.
I give her one last look, committing every detail of her to memory in this moment—not the one I wanted, but the one I’ve got—then I nod.
“Yeah,” I say quietly.
I open the limo door for her, letting her slide inside first. The driver catches my eye in the rearview, but I shut the door on whatever question he’s got sitting on his tongue.
Tonight was supposed to be hers.
