Behind The Masks
1071 Words
The Riverside Gallery was quieter than Alexander expected. Sunlight streamed through towering glass windows, illuminating polished white floors and paintings that stretched from floor to ceiling. Soft classical music floated through the spacious hall, blending with the low murmur of visitors.
Alexander slipped his hands into his pockets as Elsa walked beside him. Neither of them spoke immediately.
For the first time since they had met, there were no lawyers watching them. No businessmen listening. No fathers directing every conversation. It was strangely... peaceful.
Elsa stopped before a large oil painting of a lone sailboat drifting across a stormy sea.
“It feels lonely,” she murmured.
Alexander looked at the artwork.
“I thought people usually called that peaceful.”
“They only see the ocean.” She smiled faintly. “I see the person trapped in the middle of it.”
Alexander turned toward her.
“You always look beyond what’s obvious?”
“I used to paint.”
That surprised him.
“You did?”
She nodded.
“I wanted to become an artist.”
“What happened?”
“My family’s business happened.”
She shrugged lightly, though he noticed the sadness behind the gesture.
“My father said hobbies don’t build companies.”
Alexander laughed quietly. “My father would’ve said exactly the same thing.”
Elsa looked at him. “What did you want to become?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied another painting hanging nearby.
“A building designer.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“An architect?”
“I loved drawing buildings.”
“What changed?”
“My last sketchbook disappeared the day I received my university acceptance letter.”
“You think your father threw it away?”
Alexander smiled bitterly. “I know he did.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Elsa said softly,
“So… We’re both living someone else’s dream.”
Alexander met her eyes. “I suppose we are.”
…
They wandered through the gallery together. Conversation came more easily now. They discovered they both preferred coffee over tea. Neither enjoyed attending charity galas. Both hated being photographed.
Alexander learned that Elsa collected old novels whenever she traveled.
Elsa discovered Alexander secretly loved jazz music, despite his carefully polished public image.
“You don’t seem like someone who listens to jazz,” she teased.
“And you don’t seem like someone who enjoys detective novels.”
She looked genuinely surprised. “How did you know?”
“You smiled when you walked past the mystery section.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Were you observing me?”
“I negotiate for a living.” He grinned. “I notice details.”
She laughed. This time, it wasn’t polite. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was real.The sound echoed softly through the gallery.
Alexander found himself smiling before he even realized it. It had been a long time since someone laughed because of something he had said.
…
Nearly two hours later, they entered the gallery café. The waitress approached with a welcoming smile.
“A table for two?”
Alexander glanced toward Elsa. She nodded.
“Yes.”
As they settled into their seats, the waitress handed them menus.
“I already know what I want,” Elsa said.
Alexander looked up. “You’ve been here before?”
She smiled. “My mother loved this place.”
A brief silence followed. “You were close?” he asked.
Elsa’s expression softened. “Very.” “I lost her when I was sixteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
She offered him a small smile. “She always told me that people reveal who they truly are when they think no one is watching.”
Alexander looked at her thoughtfully.“Wise woman.”
“She usually was.”
The waitress returned with two coffees and a slice of cheesecake.
“We didn’t order dessert,” Alexander said.
The waitress smiled knowingly.
“It’s already been paid for.”
“By who?”
She pointed discreetly toward the entrance. Richard Hale stood there, speaking on his phone. He hadn’t entered the café. He hadn’t interrupted them. He simply glanced in their direction before walking away.
Alexander sighed. “So that’s why our schedules were cleared.”
Elsa watched Richard disappear through the glass doors. “He planned this?”
“Of course he did.”
“For once…” She stirred her coffee, “...I’m almost grateful.”
Alexander looked at her.
She smiled awkwardly. “Don’t misunderstand.”
“I won’t.”
“If he hadn’t forced this meeting…” She hesitated, “I would’ve assumed you were exactly like him.”
Alexander leaned back. “And now?”
She looked directly into his eyes. “Now I'm not so sure.”
…
The drive back to the Monroe estate was unusually quiet. As Elsa stepped out of the car, Jonathan Monroe was waiting near the entrance.
“You look happier.”
She blinked. “Do I?”
“You smiled.”
She hadn’t even noticed.
Jonathan’s shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time in weeks.
“So... What do you think of him?”
Elsa thought carefully before answering. “He’s not what I expected.”
Jonathan smiled. “That’s a good thing.” “...I think.”
…
Meanwhile, Alexander arrived at the penthouse occupying the top floor of Hale Tower.
Liam was waiting with tomorrow’s itinerary.
“So?”
Alexander loosened his tie. “So what?”
Liam folded his arms. “The famous Elsa Monroe.”
Alexander chuckled. “You’ve become surprisingly interested.”
“I’m curious.”
Alexander walked toward the window overlooking the city. After a long pause, he said, “She’s honest.”
Liam looked surprised. “That’s your first impression?”
Alexander nodded. “She hides her feelings…” He remembered her genuine laugh inside the gallery, “...but she doesn’t hide who she is.”
For the first time since Richard had announced the arranged marriage... Alexander no longer felt like he was marrying a complete stranger. There was still no love, no romance, no certainty, but there was understanding. And perhaps... That was a better place to start.
As the sun disappeared beyond the skyline, both Alexander and Elsa found themselves thinking about the same unexpected truth. Forty-eight hours suddenly didn’t feel nearly long enough.
- Writer
