3

ELENA

I was busy at work that day that I didn’t notice Marcus’s sudden absence.

Deadlines sure had a way of swallowing time. My head was full, rearranging schedules, shuffling between emails and phone calls. By the time I finally got home, the sun had settled, painting the living room windows in orange lights.

“Honey, I’m home,” I called out as I shut the door behind me.

No response.

I dropped my bag on the sofa and walked further in. The apartment was unusually quiet. No television noise, no clatter from the kitchen. So unusual.

Marcus always got home before me, and if anything kept him out late, he always let me know. I checked the bedroom, then the bathroom. Still nothing.

I shrugged it off.

Marcus could be unpredictable like that. Sometimes, he would disappear for days. Work meetings, last-minute plans that ran longer than expected. It was normal and wasn’t new enough to worry me.

Maybe he was going to be late, I thought.

I waited for him to return.

Hours passed.

I scrolled through my phone on the couch, refreshing messages that weren’t coming. Finally, I called him. It rang and rang until it went to voicemail.

I didn’t leave a message.

Marcus always responded to my calls, no matter how busy he was, or responded with a text if he was unable to respond.

My body felt heavy. The kind of tiredness that settles deep into your bones after a long, hectic day. I reheated leftovers, barely tasted them and decided not to wait up for him anymore.

By the time I lay in bed, Marcus still wasn’t at home and neither did he call.

The other side of the bed was cold, I missed his presence. But I was sleepy so I slept badly.

When morning came, there was still no message from him, no calls. Nothing. That was when the feeling crept in, it was quiet but unsettling. This wasn’t the first time Marcus had gone MIA, but for some unknown reason, something about this time felt off. I couldn’t explain it but I felt it.

I pushed the thought aside and got ready for work.

My job as an art curator was tedious and always grounded me. Art demanded attention. Presence. It pulled me out of my head. Today, I needed that distraction more than ever.

An exhibition was coming up very soon, one of the most important exhibitions of the year. But we were still missing a key piece for the exhibition. It was a centrepiece, something bold enough to draw the attention of people.

After a brief discussion at the office, where I nodded more than I spoke, I grabbed my bag and headed straight to the auction house.

The building was intimidating and elegant, all glass and polished floors. Everyone was dressed in tailored suits and expensive dresses, moving around like they belomged there. I had to constantly remind myself that I did too.

I took my seat at a corner and studied the artwork up for bid. Indeed it was a stunning contemporary piece. Emotional. Striking. Exactly what we needed for the exhibition.

The bidding started.

I raised my paddle, my expectations high.

Someone else did too. The numbers gradually began to climb. I bid higher, calculating the budget in my head, stretching it just enough to make sense. Then, someone else countered it again.

My stomach churned.

I tried again, lifting my paddle calmly.

“Three hundred thousand…can I get three-fifty thousand…” the auctioneer announced.

No response. I smiled.

The auctioneer barely finished announcing my bid before another voice cut in.

“Five hundred thousand.”

My jaw dropped.

The sound came from behind me.

The amount made my breath catch. It was way above my budget. Beyond what I was even allowed to consider.

I turned around slowly to see who it was. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but she sat a few rows back, looking nothing like I expected. She looked so composed, relaxed, one leg crossed over the other like she was here solely for entertainment.

Then I saw her face. Her dark hair was pulled back neatly, and her eyes were sharp and focused.

Valeria.

The woman who made my heart jump at the charity event two weeks ago.

I gasped. I turned again to look at her, then our eyes met. Briefly

There was no apology in them. No arrogance either.

The auctioneer continued, “Five hundred thousand….” his voice echoed through the room, but I barely heard him. I turned forward again, my paddle resting uselessly in my hand.

I knew I had lost.

The final hammer came down, sealing the deal.

Sold.

I felt a sense of disappointment settle in my chest. Heavy, not too dramatic. I gathered my things, already planning how I would explain all of this to my boss.

“You fought hard for it,” a voice said from behind me.

I looked up and saw her.

My breath hitched. Up close, she was more striking. Her beauty wasn’t in a soft way, it was powerful.

I nodded. “I needed it,” I said honestly. “For an exhibition.”

She studied me for a second. “Art should go where it is appreciated,” she said. “Not locked away.”

I nodded. “That’s usually the goal.”

A small smile curved her lips. “Valeria,” she said, extending her hand. “I believe we’ve met before. Marcus’s girl.”

“Elena,” I replied, shaking it. “Nice to meet you again.”

Her grip was firm.

“Well, Elena,” Valeria said, releasing my hand, “perhaps this isn’t the end of the conversation.”

Her statement confused me. Before I could respond, she turned and walked away, her heels echoing against the floor.

I watched her leave, a strange feeling settling in my chest. I tried to understand what she said, but it left me more confused.

I brushed it off and returned to work, my mind still stuck at the auction.

The drive felt longer than usual. Every red light gave me time to replay the moment. Valeria’s voice behind me, placing a bid that crushed mine. I kept seeing her eyes when they met mine

I stepped into the gallery, nodded at a few colleagues and went straight to my desk. My inbox was already full but I couldn’t focus. The exhibition lingered over me like a shadow. We needed that piece for the exhibition but I hadn’t been able to secure it.

I opened a blank document, staring at the screen, trying to find the right words to explain my failure without sounding incompetent. Aggressive bidding, budget limits, and an unavoidable outcome. All of these excuses didn’t feel good enough.

I sighed, closed the document and stood. I would tell him in person.

Just as I stepped into the hallway leading to my boss’s office, his door burst open.

He came out beaming with excitement.

“Elena,” he said, loud enough that a few people turned to look. “You did it.”

I stopped. “I…what?” I asked.

He laughed, clapping his hands like a proud parent. “I knew I could count on you.”

Confusion washed over me. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I closed it again, still confused. My brain was trying to catch up.

“I don’t think…” I started.

He waved me off, still smiling. “Honestly, this is why you’re one of our best. You’re always calm under pressure. Strategic. persistent.”

I stared at him, completely lost.

“I knew you would do it,” he continued. “I just knew it.”

“Do what?” I finally asked.

He paused, studying my face like I was losing my mind. “The piece,” he said. “The centrepiece.”

My stomach twisted.

“I can’t wait for it to arrive,” he continued, excitement clear in his voice. “I want to bask in its beauty before we unveil it.”

“Wait,” I said quickly. “What art piece?”

His smile faded a little.

“I was actually coming to talk to you about it,” I said. “I did what I could, but…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “It was difficult. But we got it anyway.”

We?

My heart began to pound.

“Your competency got us the piece,” he said proudly. “Three hundred thousand dollars was the perfect price.”

I was confused. The hallway seemed to tilt.

“Three hundred thousand dollars?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he said. “I know you’re worried about the price but it’s nothing. The paperwork came in earlier. It’s efficient. Whoever facilitated it knew what they were doing.”

“But….” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

My boss raised his eyebrow in suspicion. “Is something wrong?”

I swallowed.

“No,” I said slowly. “I just…I thought the final bid was too much.”

He shrugged. “Oh come on. Three hundred thousand is nothing compared to the fortune we are about to hit with this masterpiece.”

My mind raced. Valeria had gotten the bid against me. What was he talking about?

Her words suddenly echoed back to me.

“Perhaps this isn’t the end of the conversation.”

I felt lightheaded.

“So,” my boss continued, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside me, “excellent work. Take the rest of the day if you want. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you.”

He walked away, still pleased. I stood there after he left. There was no doubt anymore

Valeria had given us the piece.

She had outbid everyone, outbid me and then quietly handed it over to me.

Was it a deliberate action or was it out of pity?

Why would she do that?

My phone felt heavy in my hand as I pulled it out, half-expecting a message that wasn’t there.

She had helped fix a problem I hadn’t even voiced out loud. I pressed my lips together, unease curling in my chest.

Why?