Chapter 5 Unspoken Tensions

Two weeks had passed, and the painting was nearly done. Every brushstroke felt like a piece of me poured onto the canvas. I could feel it, the emotion, the intensity, the quiet strength in every color. It was coming to life, and honestly... It looked good.

During that time, Alexander kept in touch, he kept calling, texting, making sure I wasn't overwhelmed with work, trying to be nice, loving, and all that. But what really caught me off guard... were the roses. It was literally my first time getting one.

The first bouquet came the very next morning after our last conversation. Deep crimson roses, wrapped in silky black paper, with a card tucked between the petals that read: "I don't want that moment to define us. I'll wait for you to decide what it means. And since you go by the name Rose, it's only right that you get roses."

I stared at those words longer than I should have before folding the card and hiding it in my sketchbook. I did not want to admit how much that note eased something in me. The second bouquet showed up two days later, soft and pink this time. No note. Just the scent, the color, and a quiet reminder that he had not forgotten me.

By the time the third bouquet came, I already knew I had forgiven him. Even though I never said it out loud. But while the roses softened something in me, they seemed to harden something in Alice. She noticed them. Of course, she did. They were big, bold, beautiful, and sat right in the center of the kitchen like they owned the place. But Alice never said a word about them. Not a single teasing comment. Not a raised eyebrow. Nothing.

And that silence made me more uncomfortable than if she had outright confronted me.

Because I knew Alice. I knew her well. And when she got quiet like this, it was never because she had nothing to say. It meant she was watching. Waiting. Storing every single detail for later. Or worse... planning a storm I wouldn't see coming.

I tried to push it out of my mind. There was work to finish. I still had some details left on the painting. Just a few final strokes and it would be complete. But even while I worked, I could feel Alice in the background. Like a shadow just out of sight.

Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed on the table. It was Alexander.

I hesitated for only a second before answering. "Hello?"

"Tell me it's finished," he said, skipping any greeting. His voice was smooth, edged with excitement.

"Almost," I replied, tilting my head as I studied the canvas. "Just a few details left."

"Perfect. Then it's time we celebrate."

I frowned, picking up a paintbrush and absentmindedly twirling it between my fingers. "Celebrate? What do you mean?"

"Yes. You have worked hard, and I want to take you out."

I let out a soft chuckle. "Alexander, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cut in. "No business, no painting talk." Just dinner. You and me."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could get lost in whatever feeling that was, an idea struck me. "Actually..." I started, hesitating slightly. "Would you mind if I brought a friend along?"

There was a beat of silence before he responded, his voice was unreadable. "A friend?" he asked.

"Yes," I said quickly, forcing enthusiasm into my tone. "Alice. She's been... curious about you." And I think it would be good for her to see you're not as intimidating as she thinks."

Another pause. Longer this time before he responded. "Well, if that's what you want, no problem."

His agreement should have reassured me, but something about his tone made my stomach twist. "Great," I said, trying to shake off the unease. "I'll let her know."

But just as I was about to hang up, his voice came through again, softer this time, almost amused. "Rose."

"Yes?" I responded.

"You should be careful what you wish for."

My stomach dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He chuckled lightly, almost too smoothly. "I guess you'll find out at dinner."

And with that, the call ended. I stood there, holding the phone to my chest, a chill running up my arms. What the hell did he mean by that? Had I just made a mistake? I set my phone down, exhaling slowly, trying to push the unease away.

I shook the thought off and stepped out of my room, only to find Alice sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone like nothing was bothering her. But I knew better.

I cleared my throat. "So... Alexander invited me to dinner."

That got her attention. She looked up, raising a brow. "Dinner?"

I nodded, taking a seat across from her. "Yes, he said it's a way to celebrate me finishing the painting."

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "Celebration? Or an excuse to get you alone?"

I expected the teasing, but her tone held something else, something sharper. I smiled tightly. "I told him I would be bringing you along."

That got her full attention. Her eyes shot up, surprised. "Wait. You invited me?"

"Yes," I said, holding her gaze. "I figured it would be nice for you to see that he's not some manipulative billionaire trying to buy me." Maybe then you would relax a little."

Alice tilted her head, tapping her nails against the armrest of the chair. "Huh. "That's all you have to say?" She shrugged. "I just didn't think he would agree with that. He seems like the type who wants you all to himself."

I rolled my eyes. "You've barely even spoken to him."

"And yet," she dragged out the words dramatically, "I have instincts."

I sighed, not wanting to go in circles. "Look, I just want you there. You're my best friend and your opinion matters. So, will you come or not?"

Alice studied me for a moment before giving a small smirk. "Of course, I'll come. Someone has to make sure you don't get blinded by all that billionaire charm."

I let out a small laugh, relieved, but something in her expression told me she wasn't coming just to be supportive. I kept wondering if I was not making any mistakes with this. Alex gave me my first contract, so forgetting the advances he has been making toward me, he still has a special place in my heart for being the first person to give me the opportunity to believe in myself and my work, allowing me to make a name for myself, which is quite rare.

I decided to grab chilled water and just head to my room to finish the painting and not let all this drama consume me.

The next afternoon, a package arrived at my door. It was for me. I did not order anything, so when I saw the package in a sleek black box with a gold ribbon, my stomach flipped. Inside was the most beautiful gown I had ever seen. Midnight blue. Subtle shimmer like it had captured a handful of stars. Soft, rich fabric that looked like it would melt against the skin. My hands trembled just touching it.

There was a card sitting on top that read "Every artist deserves to stand out. See you tonight."

That wasn't the only surprise. Tucked beneath the gown was a second, flatter box. I opened it slowly and found a pair of simple, elegant black flats. Not heels. Flats.

Another card slid out that said, "I want you to be totally comfortable, so no need to wear heels to impress me."

Impress you?? I gave a smirk while reading it. I did not expect such thoughtfulness. The flats were practical, yes, but it was clear Alexander had been paying attention to what mattered to me since the first day we met, which gave me a deep feeling of warmth inside me.

Alice walked in just then, stopping in her tracks. Her eyes went from the dress to the shoes, then back to me. "You cannot be serious."

I turned to her. "What?"

She pointed toward the boxes. "Rose, he bought you a gown and a shoe?"

I nodded, still staring at the dress. "Looks like it."

She folded her arms. "And you don't find that... a bit much?"

I knew what she was implying. That this was another way for Alexander to exert control, to turn me into someone molded by his wealth.

But looking at the gown and shoes, I didn't feel controlled. I felt seen.

"It's just a dress, Alice," I said, brushing past her skepticism.

She gave a cold little scoff. "It's never just a dress with men like him."