Chapter 9

On the opening day of my art exhibition, a peculiar package arrived—a painting from Tristan. He'd patched it up, of course, but the two butterflies, once vibrant, now bore a visible crack down the middle.

I gave a wry smile, as I'd known he would send it; just days ago, I had "accidentally" let slip to our mutual friends that I'd be holding an exhibit. Tristan always took the bait. He wouldn't resist a chance to play his little game.

With the painting in hand, I strolled confidently past the media, giving them a generous glimpse of the canvas. Instantly, heads turned, the reporters sensing juicy gossip.

"Emily, who sent such a unique piece on this important day?" one reporter probed eagerly.

Another added, "The painting appears to have been damaged but carefully restored. Did your lover perhaps send this?"

A sharp-eyed journalist spotted the inscription along the bottom. "Wait, look! 'Tristan and Emily's Happy Ever After'! Could it… could it be from Tristan of the Goldberg Co