Page 60 of The Art of Loving Ellie
I refuse to let my fear take control of this new life I want for myself; a life that is bursting with love, and confidence, and companionship. A life where I can decide what I want while letting go of the control I desperately cling to.
I finally understand why these people I love have continued to stand by me, and lift me up despite my misgivings. It’s because they loveme, and because I’m worthy of it.
Mentally breaking my shackles for the last time, I glance over at Alex and Hannah and whisper, “No.”
Confused, Hannah tilts her to the side slightly. “I’m sorry?”
I laugh, and they look at me like I’ve completely lost my ever-loving mind. “This dress is beautiful, but it’s not the one.” Taking charge, I gather up the skirt of the gown I’m wearing and hurriedly make my way back to the main showroom.
There, sitting alone under a spotlight, is a white-lace dress that beckons me seductively. I walk over to it in wonderment, running my hands gently down the lace sleeves.
“Can I try this one on?” I turn back to ask Hannah and she nods, removing it from the model.
Alex helps me step into the gown, and I pull the sleeves up over my arms as he buttons the silk covered snaps that trail their way up my back. I face them first, afraid to turn and be disappointed by what I see in the mirror, but their smiles tell me I’ve made the right choice. Slowly turning to look at myself, a gasp leaves my parted lips when I see my reflection.
The gown fits me like a glove, hugging the curve of my waist before gently flaring out toward the floor. White silk caresses the lower half of my body, which is covered with a lace overlay, and a playful slit shows just a bit of my right leg when I move. All lace sleeves cover my arms, and the center of the top dips into a V toward my breasts. A gentle shimmer from the fabric bounces off the lighting in the room giving me an angelic glow, and my auburn hair presents a deep contrast against the fabric.
“I love it,” I say, smiling with confidence. Turning to gauge their reactions, Hannah looks at me in awe, and Alex has tears shimmering in his eyes.
“Hannah, honey, take my money; we have found the one!” He starts to fan himself dramatically, and I laugh, feeling tears of my own start to sting my eyes.
Looking myself over once more before we leave, I’m at peace with my choice. I chose white because it reminds me of the fresh snow that falls over the city I now, and forever will, call my home. It represents light, strength, and purity—but mostly, it represents a new beginning, and I am being reborn.
Chapter Twenty
Istand in my living room on Christmas Eve, watching as thick white snowflakes flitter from the sky and cascade down below my windows. My thumbnail sits between my teeth and I bite at it nervously as I walk over to the large canvas sitting before me in the studio corner of my living space.
The night that Tina, Alex, and I left work together, I had an idea that hit me like a ton of bricks, and I raced home to pour my energy into it. Tyler still hasn’t responded to any of my text messages, but I’m hoping that this can get through to him somehow.
My eyes caress my work, looking at each brushstroke and every blended color of the painting I’ve created. For the first time in almost a year, I’ve finally created something worthy of being in Alex’s showroom.
I close my eyes, remembering the hot tears that fell while I slaved for hours working on this piece. Each tear representing a part of myself letting go of the pain for my father’s death, and the pain that I caused Tyler and Alex with my careless emotions. I cried for me, for the unlovable little girl from my past, and for my struggle to get to this point in my life.
The tears finally stopped when I dropped my brushes and stepped back to see what my heart was finally able to show me after aching for so long. The sheer joy and happiness that this painting brought me when I finished, wrapped itself around me, soothing my entire soul.
I gently put the canvas in a clear plastic covering and wrap the entire thing in cloth to avoid it getting damaged on the way to the gala.
Unlocking my phone, I open the text thread between Tyler and me one last time.
E:I understand if you never want to speak to me again. But if a part of you still cares for me, even a little, please come to the gala tonight.
Putting my phone in my pocket, I gather up all of my things and make my way to Alex’s gallery. Traffic is horrendous, and it takes almost an hour to get across town to where the gala is being held.
“Thanks a bunch. Merry Christmas!” I tell the cabby, rushing out of the car to get to the entrance of the building. The wetness from the snow soaks through my shoes, and I’m shocked to see that it’s already covered the ground in a thick blanket. I’m worried, hoping the snow doesn’t hinder the guest count for tonight.
My whole body is high on adrenaline, and taking a look around at the crew setting up the Christmas decorations, something about tonight just feels—magical. I’m a few hours early so I can help get things set up, and have time to change before everyone arrives. Alex has no idea that I’ve created a new piece for his gallery, and I want to keep it that way.
I sneak into the very back of the gallery space where there is a big private bathroom. Checking to make sure I’m alone, I slip in and lock the painting and my dress away in the closet.
As I’m coming out of the bathroom, I hear Alex’s voice carry down the hallway. “Ellie!” I almost jump out of my skin at the sudden sound. “What’s wrong?”
He looks at me, and then darts his eyes around, trying to figure out what has me so spooked. “Nothing! Nothing at all. I just wanted to put my things away so I could get started on helping the guys.” My smile feels too tight and I know he’s suspicious, but he doesn’t press me any further.
“Well come on then, Sugar! Let’s go see what Tina needs help with.” My heart swells at his willingness to always help us.
Alex’s gallery is a wide open concept with large windows facing the busy city street. There are stairs in the back of the space that leads to a flat area that we have turned into a stage for our violinist, and we’ve set tables up in the center of the room for our guests. Ernesto is hanging individual twinkling lights that hang down from the ceiling above each table, giving the whole space a fairytale vibe.
Alex pulls a small remote out of his pocket and raises an eyebrow at me. I tilt my head, giving him a questioning glance as he points it toward a speaker somewhere in the room.
