“Yes, you were.” This time it wasn’t Lia who spoke but a familiar voice that came from behind him.

Gabriel spun in surprise. The woman standing before him was lithe and graceful, with a round face framed by auburn hair twisted up into a crown on top of her head. A simple ivory dress floated around her body.

“Olivia,” he said and bent to envelop the woman in a warm embrace. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been much too long.” He pulled back in confusion. “What on earth are you doing here—” He stopped abruptly as he realized exactly why she was here. “Oh, Jesus.”

“No, it wasn’t Jesus who invited me,” Olivia said, patting him on the arm. She slipped by Gabriel and Lia and stood in front of the second canvas as a knot of people drifted away. “It was Lia who insisted I come. And I’m glad she did. You titled this correctly, by the way. Dancing was always my first love.”

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “How did she find you?”

“As it turns out, there are not that many married couples who dance for the Royal Ballet,” Lia told him, coming to stand next to Olivia as the woman gazed at her likeness on the wall. “It wasn’t hard.”

“All the years I have known you, Gabriel Seymour, and I never knew you could do this,” Olivia said. “I never knew you had such extraordinary talent.”

“It’s not—”

“Do shut up,” Olivia interrupted him. “Before you say something I won’t be able to forgive you for.”

Lia turned her head away but not before he saw her smile.

“My husband cried when he saw this, you know,” Olivia continued. “And he’s not much of a crier. In truth, we both cried. So when Lia tells you that you are a goddamn artistic genius, the smart thing for you to do is to nod your head and say thank you.”

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly. “Um.”

“Try again.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s better. Here.” Olivia turned away from the painting and extracted another small white card from her purse. “You need to put this up. It came with my invitation.”

Gabriel took it from her. FIRST LOVE, GABRIEL SEYMOUR, 2016. FROM THE PRIVATE COLLECTION OF OLIVIA ALLEN.

Gabriel’s eyes snapped to Lia.

“I gifted it,” Lia said. “To the person to whom it rightfully belongs.”

“Oh.” Gabriel stared at the card in her hand but made no move to take it.

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it?” Olivia mused.

“I beg your pardon?”