Chapter 18

Iris

I realize I haven’t felt genuine joy in days once I step into my cozy apartment back in Bo’Arrocan and hear the sound of Miles’ tiny voice. He comes barreling into the foyer, his dark hair flopping into his bright green eyes, and quite literally launches himself into my arms.

“Mommy, you’re back!” he cries, burying his face in my neck. “I didn’t know you were coming back!”

I grin and kiss his little face all over. “I wanted to surprise you, little wolf. Are you surprised?”

“I’m so so so so so surprised!” he beams.

Looking up, I see the babysitter standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. There’s a wooden spoon covered in tomato sauce in her hand, evidence of dinner almost being ready. Scooping Miles up into my arms, I explain why I’ve returned on a whim while Miles chatters endlessly about his days without me.

“I really missed you, Mommy,” Miles says, leaning his head on my shoulder as we all sit down for dinner around the small kitchen table. “Look, I even colored you a whole bunch of pictures.”

With a flourish, he pulls a stack of papers out and hands them to me. “My little artist,” I grin, ruffling his hair. I can’t wait to put them up where I can see them. Every last one of them.

“He really did,” the babysitter says softly. “He cried all last night.”

Miles’ eyes widen. “Did not! I was a big boy!”

I chuckle and tug him closer, kissing the top of his head. “Well, I’m here now, little wolf. Don’t you worry.”

But with the happiness of coming home also comes the bittersweet feeling. Because it’s not long before I’m getting a call from Marsiel, and they’re telling me how they’re reopening. Apparently they also have some ‘amazing news’ for me, news that the curator only wants to tell me in person.

The next morning, I have to hold back tears as I explain that I’m returning to Ordan. Miles bawls his eyes out and clutches my leg like his life depends on it.

“Please let me come with you, Mommy! I’ve missed you so much!”

It breaks my heart to have to pry his little hands away. And although he understands that I’ll be home for good in just a few more days, there’s no drying the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Am I a bad mother? All I want is to protect Miles from having to meet Arthur in Ordan, and yet it feels like leaving him behind is doing more harm than good.

By sunset, the plane is touching down once more in Ordan. I’m eager for the news that the gallery has for me, but also eager to finish my work and return to Miles.

For good this time.

…

“As you can see, your exhibition has reopened,” the curator says with a grin as she swings open the large double-doors leading to the solo exhibit area.

I furrow my brow as I step into the space. Previously, my work was hung in the communal exhibit area, but now it’s in here. When I glance at the curator in confusion, she beams.

“Well? Do you like it?”

I’m not sure what to say as I take in my paintings lining the large, pristine white walls with the sun streaming in through the large glass roof. The solo exhibition space is warmly lit and vast, and my work looks even more phenomenal in here. But I’m confused.

“Why?” I blurt out.

The curator giggles and places her arm around my shoulders, leading me around the space. “An anonymous investor wanted your work to be shown in a solo exhibit. But that’s not all. Here.” She pulls out a packet of papers and hands it to me.

Furrowing my brow, I take the papers and flip through them. It’s a contract—the investor wants to become my patron, essentially giving me a large sum of money to keep producing artwork here in Ordan.

I turn to Brian, who’s lingering nearby, and hand him the contract. He takes a look at it. “This is… huge,” he says, his eyes wide as he glances up at me. “This is, like, every artist’s dream.”

He’s right, too. To have a patron basically means that you’ve made it as an artist. To be given money just to create your work and show it around various galleries… It’s something that I’ve been dreaming about for years.

“Who is the anonymous investor?” I ask, turning to the curator.

But she shakes her head. “Unfortunately, they asked to remain nameless,” she explains. “Officially, the contract is handled through us—the Marsiel Gallery. We’ll handle everything; the funds, the gallery tours, events, that sort of thing. You’ll technically be our resident artist, but your residency will be funded by an outside investor.”

I blink at her, a bit taken aback by all of it. The curator leaves me and Brian to discuss the contract.

“It’s an official contract,” Brian says once we’re alone, scratching his head. I know that much, of course; the Marsiel Gallery is trustworthy, and I know they wouldn’t accept an outside investor if it was a bad deal.

“Still,” I say, chewing my lip hesitantly. “This would mean that I’d have to spend a lot more time here in Ordan. I’d need to attend gallery tours, openings, seminars…”

I shake my head. The thought of leaving Miles frequently breaks my heart all over again. And besides, what sort of image would that create for him? Sure, my career would be booming, but he would rarely get to see me. I’d rather be the mother that my son needs rather than an overnight art sensation.

Brian, sensing my thoughts, sighs and grips my shoulder with one hand. “Iris, look at me.”

I lift my gaze, and I’m met with his stern stare. “What?” I mutter.

“Iris, this is an amazing opportunity,” he says, waving the contract in my face with one hand. “You have to say yes.”

“But Miles…”

“Bring him here,” he cuts in.

My eyes widen, and I take a step back, shaking my head again. “No. No, I can’t. If Arthur—”

“Arthur isn’t an idiot,” Brian says quickly. “With the rumors about you two, he needs to keep his distance. And since you refused to endorse him and Selina, you’ll have even less of a reason to run into each other. Besides, it doesn’t have to be forever—just long enough to see this artist residency through.”

I purse my lips and consider the options. Brian is right; this is a huge opportunity. One that I’d be stupid to say no to. If I’m careful, I could do this and ensure Miles’ safety.

“Come on, Iris,” Brian urges me. “This is what you’ve been working your ass off for. Five years of blood, sweat, and tears. Are you really going to let one man ruin all of it for you? You love this city, and there are far more opportunities here than Bo’Arrocan. Maybe it’s time you came back and made a new name for yourself.”

I hate to admit it, but Brian is right.

I spend all of that night thinking about the proposition, so much so that I don’t even manage to get any sleep. Maybe I’m delirious by the time the sun rises, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve made my decision.

I find Brian at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. He glances up as I enter, his eyebrows shooting upward as he takes in my sleep-deprived appearance, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Well?” he asks as he pushes a cup of coffee toward me. “Have you made your decision?”

Nodding, I reply, “Yes. I’m going to bring Miles to Ordan, and I’m going to sign the contract.”