"And it doesn't matter," I said, finishing the thought. "My certainty is the only one that governs my life now. And I am certain that I will never be with someone who needs to test my value against a lineup of strangers. That paradigm is beneath me. I hope you find what you're looking for, Sarah. Truly."
I saw it then: the full, devastating understanding crashing over her. She was certain, and her certainty had arrived at a closed door—a door she had bolted shut herself. She was holding the key to a room that no longer existed.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The friend was hovering now, looking concerned.
I offered her a small, final, polite smile—the smile of a man closing a business transaction that had long been settled. "Enjoy the show."
I turned and walked back toward Mark and Chloe.
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Everything cool?"
"Yeah," I said, and I meant it. My heart rate hadn't even elevated. "Everything's fine."
I glanced back once, out of human curiosity more than anything. Sarah was still rooted to the spot, her friend's arm around her shoulders, staring at the space where I had been standing. She looked utterly, completely alone in the middle of the crowd.
I turned my attention to Chloe's vase, to the conversation, to the rest of my life. The noise of the gallery faded into a pleasant background hum.
The silence I had cultivated, the peace I had built—it wasn't around me anymore. It was within me. And it was unshakeable.