Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller

Chapter Twenty-Three

“There you are,”Bianca says from behind me.

I turn around to face her, and she smiles brightly at me. “Hi. So, where is the mysterious Hadley?” I ask. I’m getting anxious about meeting him. I don’t normally get like this. I’m outgoing and, generally, outspoken. But I can’t shake this sense that he’s important.

I’m not sure what to do with this feeling or how to stop it. I figure the best course of action is to just get this meeting over with sooner rather than later. But there’s no man by Bianca’s side. I frown and glance around her briefly. “Please don’t tell me he’s a no show.” Oh, God, he better show up. There are people here expecting to see him.

Bianca places a hand on my shoulder. “Breathe,” she says calmly, “he’s here. I left him in a corner somewhere while I came to check on you. Are you all set?”

I exhale in relief. “Oh, okay, yeah, I’m good to go. Should we do it now?”

She beams. “Yes. Now is perfect!”

Downing the rest of my champagne, I give her a nod then stride toward the small unassuming glass podium near the covered centerpiece of the exhibition. I’m dying to see it. I’ve had time to really look at each piece over the last few days, and his work is incredible. You can’t help but be moved by the beauty in their simplicity.

When I reach the podium, I take a steadying breath and turn on the little microphone. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Moments of Beauty by Hadley. I could rattle on about how captivating each individual piece here is, but I know that, like me, you’re all eager to see tonight’s centerpiece. So, without further ado, it is my honor to present to you The One, The Only.”

As I announce the name of the image, I tug on the corner of the gold curtain that covers it, revealing … me.

It’s me. I’m not looking at the camera, but I know it’s me. I know that stream. I know that moment. That moment changed my life. Emotion consumes me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.

My eyes roam every inch of the photo as tears fill my eyes. My chest tightens painfully, and I clutch my heart to keep it inside my body.

I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. Spinning around, I’m filled with disappointment when I realize it’s my brother.

He’s frowning down at me. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have,” I whisper as a rogue tear slides down my cheek and my legs weaken.

Ben’s eyes widen. “Jesus, Liza.” He wraps his arms around me before I fall. “What’s going on right now?” he whispers in my hair so as not to make a bigger scene than I probably already have.

I clutch Ben’s middle and hold him tight. I need to know he’s here, he’s real, because right now, I feel like I’ve been teleported to another time.

When I feel like I can stand on my own again, I pull away from him. “Thank you,” I say and run my hands down my now crinkled red dress that Bianca helped me pick out for tonight.

My eyes narrow. Bianca. She was awfully determined to get me to unveil that photo. I have to find her—now. Before Ben can ask me what the hell just happened, I go in search of her.

That voice.I know that voice.

My heart rate picks up, beating faster and faster the longer I hear it.

I look around, trying to find where it’s coming from, and see people crowding around the centerpiece in the middle of the gallery.

I swallow down my nerves and begin to push my way through the throng. A few people give me dirty looks, but I ignore them. Just as I reach the front row of onlookers, she turns and tugs the corner of the large gold curtain covering the photo.

This is not how I imagined this moment happening.

My palms are clammy, and a thin sheen of sweat breaks out across my brow as I wait for her reaction.

She doesn’t move—not at first. I wish I could see her face, but her back is to me. I see her reach for her heart, and I’m about to go to her when a tall guy in a tux steps up behind her and places his hand on her shoulder.

She spins around, and I see tears in her eyes right before he takes her in his arms, and she wraps hers around him and holds on tight.

A rock settles in the pit of my stomach.

Of course, she’s with someone.

I turn and cut for the exit. I can’t do this. I can’t see her with another man. It’s too much.

Before I reach the glass doors that lead to my salvation, Bee steps out in front of me.

My eyes narrow. “You did this.” My tone is flat, unyielding.

She swallows. “Yes, it, uh … it didn’t exactly go as I planned.”

“You bet your ass it didn’t!” the voice comes from behind Bee.

When Bee steps to the side and I lay my eyes on the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen, my anger washes away as quickly as it came.

We stare at each other, wordless.

She’s cut her long hair. It now rests just above her shoulders. She’s wearing a brilliant red dress that flares out and stops just above her knees. My eyes travel the length of her body, and I reacquaint myself with her soft curves.

I notice her breathing change as she stares at me in return. Her chest heaves with each breath she draws.

Running a hand through my hair, I decide it’s now or never. “Hey, El,” I say softly.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Hey, El.’ Are you serious?” Her voice rises with each word.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Bee says, but we both ignore her.

I shrug. “I don’t know what to say. It’s good to see you, I think?” I scratch my neck. Is it good to see her? Fuck if I know.

She steps forward, wraps one of her tiny hands around my bicep, and drags me out of the gallery. It’s weird how I can feel the heat of her hand even through the layers of my clothing.

Once the door is closed behind us, she swings around so she’s facing me again, and she’s fuming. “What the hell is that in there, Hux? Who is Hadley? What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”

Jesus, I always loved it when she said fuck, and apparently, I still do. I can’t help the small smile that picks up the corner of my lips.

Her eyes get wider. “Stop smiling!”

And I smile wider. I can’t help it. I’ve missed her.

I know she’s with someone, but fuck it, I have to hold her. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her.

At first, she stiffens, but after a moment, she relaxes and lifts her hands to the back of my shoulders and breathes what I hope is a sigh of relief.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper in her ear.

“Hmm,” she murmurs against my chest.

I don’t know how long we’ve been standing here, just holding each other, but I know my time has come to an end when she begins to pull away from me.

“Now talk, Hux,” she says, and her voice is emotionless.

It’s like a slap to the face. She’s put up a wall—just like I used to do to her. It doesn’t feel so great being on the receiving end. I rub the back of my neck with one hand and rest the other on my hip to keep from touching her again.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I tell her.

She snorts. “I’m the event coordinator at my grandparents’ hotel. How could you not know that I would be here?” she says. It’s clear she doesn’t believe me.

“I didn’t even know the exhibition was being held at Quinn Plaza until yesterday. I don’t organize the shows. It’s Bee’s … it’s Bee’s job.” And the realization that my best friend betrayed me is a knife to the gut. I swear under my breath.

“If you really didn’t know, what’s with that picture?” she says.

Both my hands are on my hips now, and I look down at my feet as they shift beneath me. “In one way or another, you’re the center of every show,” I tell her honestly.