Chapter 9
553words
My name had become a resounding symbol in the international art world.
My paintings were nearly impossible to acquire.
I no longer painted those dark, depressing things.
In my paintings, there began to be sunshine, color, and hope.
I established my own foundation, specifically to fund talented young artists who had been overlooked.
I hoped there would never be a second "Vivian Shaw."
As for Alexander Grant, these two years hadn't been good to him.
During his probation, he couldn't leave the city, and all company matters, big and small, were handed over to professional managers.
He cut off almost all social connections, confining himself in his villa day after day.
I heard he bought my former studio.
Every day, he would go there and stay for the entire day.
Sitting for the whole day, staring at a room full of empty easels.
Everyone said that CEO Grant had gone mad.
He seemed to have finally learned what love is.
Unfortunately, the person he loved would never come back.
Ethan Wilson and I are together now.
There was no grand declaration of love; everything just fell into place naturally.
He would quietly sit beside me and read while I paint.
He would remember my period and prepare brown sugar ginger tea for me in advance.
He would support all my decisions and tell me: "Do what you want to do, I'll always be behind you."
This is what love is.
Not control and possession.
The day I returned to China for my art exhibition, I ran into Alexander Grant at the airport.
He was there to pick someone up.
Not me, but Claire Lawrence.
I was somewhat surprised.
I thought they had gone their separate ways long ago.
Claire looked much more haggard, but still maintained that pitiful appearance.
She saw me. Alexander saw me too.
He froze in place, staring at me without blinking.
His eyes held a complex expression.
There was shock, pain, regret, and a hint of... pleading?
Ethan Wilson stepped forward, subtly shielding me behind him, asserting his claim.
Alexander Grant's gaze fell on Ethan's hand that was resting on my shoulder, and his eyes instantly dimmed.
"Vivian." He spoke, his voice terribly hoarse, "You're back."
"Mm." I responded flatly.
"Have you been well?"
"Very well."
Those simple two words were like a knife, stabbing into his heart.
He tried to force a smile, but it looked worse than crying.
"That's good."
Claire Lawrence behind him tugged at his sleeve, whispering: "Alex, we should go."
Alexander didn't move.
He continued to look at me, as if trying to engrave my image into his very bones.
"Vivian, can we talk?"
"That won't be necessary." I refused decisively, "Mr. Grant, there's nothing left for us to discuss anymore."
After speaking, I took Ethan's arm and brushed past him.
From beginning to end, I never looked back at him once.
I heard Lin Qingya's crying and Gu Yan's suppressed coughing from behind me.
Walking out of the airport terminal, the sunshine was just right.
Zhou Yan opened the car door for me, smiling as he said: "Welcome home, Artist Shen."
I sat in the car, looking at his gentle profile, and smiled too.
Yes, I've come home.
Back to this place, where he is.
This, is truly my home.
