From Her Perspective (BWWM)

XXIII

William Devereaux

One year ago

     I forwarded the final report to my father before closing my laptop with a sigh. I allowed myself a much-needed stretch before heading to the kitchen where my chef, Cecil, was finishing my dinner.
     "Good evening, Mr. William. Nice to see you out of bed," he said in a clipped tone.
     "Can we skip the speech today, Cecil?"
     "Avoiding your issues is only going to last so long. You should call her," he suggested as he does every day.
"I have! She changed her number and address. She wants nothing to do with me and I have to accept that! It would be great if you could be a little more empathetic about it,"
"I understand, William. I just hate seeing you like this. I know how much you miss her. I miss her too. You've looked so drained. You don't even leave the house for work. I hate seeing you so defeated," he said. I frowned at his pity and let out a breath.
"I'm fine, Cecil. I just need some time. Please, allow me that,"

Present

I took a deep breath as I stepped off the plane. This was my first flight in a year and I couldn't have picked a better place to travel to. Oslo, Norway is the epitome of happiness. Something that I've been seeking for a long time which is why I opted to meet our company's newest partner in person.
I ordered a ride to take me to the office building and before I knew it, I was sitting in a conference room waiting for the guy.
I was beginning to become irritated after waiting for him ten minutes after the meeting was supposed to begin when he hurried inside the room holding what looked like oil bottles.
     "I deeply apologize for my tardiness. My last meeting ran late and I had to grab this gift for my wife," he said as he set them on the table before offering to shake my hand.
     "No problem at all, Elias. Happy wife, happy life, right?" I shook his hand as he smiled.
"That's been my motto for the last 30 years. Are you married?"
"Divorced," I said quickly. Don't think about her, William.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,"
"Don't be. It ended amicably. She's an amazing woman," I said the usual spill I always give when I'm asked about Ella.
"I'm happy to hear that,"
The two of us began discussing his joining our company as well as what we could offer him. It wasn't until we were saying goodbye that I realized that it was getting dark outside.
"Do you have the time?" I asked. He went to flick his wrist to look at his watch when he tipped over the bottle. I caught it before it could slam on the table.
"Gosh, thank you. My wife would've killed me if I chipped it before she could see it," he said. I smirked but froze when I noticed the carvings on the bottom of the bottle.
Made with love and clay, but mostly love.
"William? Are you alright?"
"Where did you get this?" I asked, trying my best to control my voice.
"A lovely local artist named Auriella Devereaux made it for me. She's become family to my wife and me. I believe she's from New York as well. She's made every piece of art in this building," he gushed. My mind raced as I thought about the woman who consumed my every thought. After a year of searching, I found her in Norway out of all places. This has got to be fate.
"Uh...Her work looks amazing. Where would I find her? I'm interested in checking out her art while I'm here,"
"She's nearby. I can write down her studio's address," he said before pulling out a business card and scribbling the address on the back.
"Thank you. It was nice to meet you, Elias," I said as we parted.
     I quickly ordered a ride on my phone that picked me up ten minutes later. I anxiously stared at all of the buildings we passed until the car came to a stop.
     "Thank you," I said before stepping out and looking up at the art studio. There was an art gallery attached to it. She got her gallery just like she dreamed all those years ago. Ella's built a life here. Without me.
     I was almost tempted to turn around and walk away but I knew that I would always regret not seeing her face one more time.
     "I'm not giving up this time,"
     I walked into the building and was met by the smell of paint and clay. The skylight letting in natural light shined on all of the pieces on the wall. A painting of the New York City Skyline that I recognize from Ella's bedroom back in New York hung near the door.
"Welcome to The Moon Studio of Art. H—" She began greeting me until she came to a halt. Her eyes widened as she took me in. She looked different. She looked older. I scanned over her wearing a navy dress that had streaks of paint on it. Her hair was thrown in a messy bun. Still, she takes my breath away.
"Billy?" she whispered my name in disbelief.
"Ella, your studio looks beautiful. I'm very proud of you," I complimented her as I continued to look around, forcing myself to look away from her.
     "Billy, what are you doing here? How did you find me?"
     "It's not what you think. I had a meeting with a man named Elias Hansen. I saw the inscription on the bottom of the oil bottles you made him. You used to put it on everything you made for me. I had to see you, Ella,"
     "Billy, I—"
     "Everything okay, Auriella?" I heard a deep voice before a tall man stepped into the room. I immediately glanced back at her.
     "Who is he?" I asked, trying my best to control my tone.
     "I'm her brother. Who are you?" he asked as he protectively stepped in front of Ella.
     "Brother?"
     "Right, you two never met. This is my little brother, Jamison. I found out about him right before we...divorced," she mumbled the word 'divorce' as she looked at Jamison. His expression softened as he nodded.
     "I'm sorry. I'm William," I said, offering my hand to him. He huffed before crossing his arms.
     "I know exactly who you are,"
     "Jamie, please," she begged. Before I could say anything, a young girl pushing a stroller walked into the studio.
     "Hi, Christine," Jamison smiled at the woman.
     "Good afternoon! I'm just returning some precious cargo. He was a delight today other than a slight meltdown that he couldn't put my keys in his mouth," she laughed as she handed Ella a diaper bag.
"Thank you. I'll see you in the morning," Ella said before looking down at the baby boy in the scroller who looked up at her with wonder.
"Of course. I'll see you in the morning, Mr. Devereaux," she said as she tickled the little boy before leaving. I immediately froze and stared at the boy. I scanned every aspect of his face until our eyes finally met. I could see Ella's features all over his face, but those green eyes were all mine.