Bonus Chapter(2/2)
I still await new collections , If you like the story and want even more bonus chapters then kindly keep on adding to the Library, and I hope you'll stick with me to the end 😇😇😇😇.
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The decision didn't come all at once.
It came in pieces.
In questions whispered beneath covers.
In coffees gone cold on the balcony while they talked.
In the slow realization that home wasn't square footage or a skyline—it was each other.
Aria visited her old studio a few days after the offer.
It was small now, compared to what she'd built. Dustier. A little forgotten.
But it was the place she'd first learned how to use a lens to say something she couldn't yet put into words.
Mrs. Callahan, her old mentor, was still there. White hair pinned back. Wrists delicate with age, but still holding the kind of grace only artists earned.
She looked at Aria and smiled knowingly.
"You're carrying something heavier than a camera."
"I have a choice to make."
Mrs. Callahan poured tea.
Waited.
And then: "Are you choosing between a person and your purpose?"
"No," Aria said softly. "I'm choosing how to take my purpose with me."
That night, Aria came home late.
Leon was at the dining table, papers spread around him, tie loosened.
She dropped her bag and crossed the room.
And without waiting, without circling around it again, she said:
"Let's go to London."
He looked up, startled.
"Are you sure?"
"I don't want to lose what I've built—but I don't want to stay behind while you build everything else. I don't need a fixed address to feel like myself."
"You'll take your business with you?"
"I'll take myself with me. That's enough."
Leon stood slowly.
Crossed to her.
"You're more than enough."
They talked details for hours.
How to phase her contracts.
How to handle the press.
How to tell his board.
Leon made calls. Aria sent emails.
It was chaotic. A little terrifying.
But beneath the mess was something steady.
A knowing.
This was right.
Two weeks later, they stood on the balcony overlooking the city.
Suitcases half-packed. Goodbye dinners scheduled. A plane waiting in the near future.
Leon wrapped his arms around her from behind.
The skyline shimmered in the dark.
"You ever think you'd leave this view?" he asked.
"I never thought I'd want to."
"And now?"
Aria leaned back into him.
Smiled.
"Now I want you. The view can change."
On their final night in New York, Aria left one thing behind.
A photo.
The one from the gallery—Leon by the window, unaware.
She hung it in the hallway.
Not because it represented who he was now.
But because it reminded her of who he'd been when he didn't know love was coming.
She touched the frame and whispered:
"We made it."
And then she walked out the door, hand in hand with the man who would never be waiting in silence again.