Hope Crawls Through Ruins by Kain Rowan Vale 52

At Dreamscape Gallery, a long line had formed at the entrance. 

This place had quickly become the latest social media hotspot in Belaris, with people flocking here for the perfect shot. 

The blend of art and modern design, paired with its unique decor, made every photo Instagram–worthy. 

Even if people didn’t buy tickets to get inside, Briana made sure the staff gave everyone the same warm welcome. 

When the weather got hot, they’d even set up cooling fans and hand out free water. 

Briana walked into the gallery and noticed Leonard’s studio door was slightly ajar. 

She walked quietly over and saw Leonard sitting in front of his easel, deep in thought, with paints scattered all around him. 

“Mr. Dean?” Briana called out, her voice tentative. 

Leonard turned, saw her, and broke into a smile. “You showed up at just the right moment. Take a look. I’ve been working on this painting for two months now, and it’s almost finished. But I still feel like the mood isn’t quite there yet…” 

“Mr. Dean, I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do,” Briana said sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry. Just speak your mind. In art, there’s no such thing as high or low,” Leonard replied. 

Briana looked over at the painting. 

A curvy woman lounged on her side on a sofa by the window, her profile half–hidden, her curves soft and graceful, with long hair cascading down in natural waves. 

Outside the window, the night stretched on endlessly, with the moon hanging high in the sky. 

The first thing that popped into Briana’s mind was the iconic “Mona Lisa“. 

In that masterpiece, her enigmatic, almost–smile had bewitched the world. 

And now, staring at Leonard’s latest work, Briana felt that same mysterious vibe. 

The woman in the painting seemed lonely, yet her life felt rich and unhurried. 

A book lay open on the sofa, and a lipstick sat uncapped. The details were spot–on. 

“Mr. Dean, is she waiting for something?” Briana asked softly. “But it looks like whatever she’s hoping for just never arrives, does it?” 

Leonard nodded, his face lighting up with delight. “That’s right, Briana. You truly understand this painting. I’m nearly finished, but these past few days I’ve been thinking about what else I could add to really emphasize her sense of longing and anticipation.” 

“Mr. Dean, what do you think she’s waiting for?” Briana asked, curiosity in her voice. 

“People see things in their own way,” Leonard smiled. “Perhaps she’s waiting for dawn to break, or for someone she loves to walk through that door. Or maybe she isn’t waiting for anything at all, just quietly feeling a little hollow inside.” 

Briana hesitated for a moment, lost in thought as she gazed at the painting. Then she pointed at the table. “Mr. Dean, maybe you could add a lamp with a soft, dim glow right here.” 

Leonard turned to her, his eyes suddenly shining with a burst of inspiration. 

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Briana paused, suddenly realizing she might be overstepping by offering advice to a true expert. She quickly added, “Mr. Dean, this is just my humble opinion, no offense intended. 

“I just feel that adding a lamp might create a softer, more atmospheric effect, which could better convey the mood you’re aiming for…” 

As soon as she finished speaking, Leonard started clapping enthusiastically. 

“Perfect. That’s brilliant.” Leonard laughed heartily. “I’ve been stuck in a creative block for days, and you just broke through it with one sentence. Seriously, how did I not think of that? Briana, you’re a total genius.” 

“That’s absolutely brilliant. Adding that lamp is pure genius,” Leonard exclaimed. “For some people, the light stays on all night, and still they never get what they’re waiting for. But for others, what they want feels just within reach, and the light goes out.” 

Leonard gave Briana a friendly pat on the shoulder. “That suggestion was spot on. Seriously, Briana, what inspired you to come up with that?” 

“Maybe it’s just that I’ve been waiting, but what I want never really comes,” Briana answered quietly. “That lamp in my heart just keeps burning.” 

While soaking in the vibe of the painting, Briana suddenly found herself thinking about all those countless nights over the past five years, waiting for Shepard to come home. 

She saw herself in that woman on the canvas. 

On the surface, it looked like she was just lost in her own world, doing her own thing, but in reality, she was just waiting for her husband to walk through that door, no matter how late it got. 

Leonard said that everyone found their own meaning in a painting. 

For Briana, it meant never getting what she was waiting for. 

The lamp inside her kept burning until dawn, every night, for five years. 

Because Shepard never came home on time. Not even once. 

He always had excuses, such as business dinners, working late, endless meetings… And she just kept waiting, hopeless and foolish, until he finally came into view. 

No matter how exhausted or sleepy she was, Briana would never go to bed. She’d curl up on the couch or perch on the balcony, gazing out at the empty night, keeping vigil by that solitary lamp. 

She didn’t want Shepard to come home after a long day and find no one there for him or no one to talk to. 

Out of all the lights in the city, at least one was to stay on just for him. 

Sometimes Shepard would come home reeking of alcohol. 

Other times, his face would be blank, but the tiredness in his eyes gave him away. 

Briana thought, ‘It wasn’t that he was swamped with work or anything. He just didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to see me.’ 

Thankfully, that was all behind her now. 

She was finally living for herself, embracing the present and whatever the future might bring. She would never lose herself waiting for someone who’d never come home. 

Leonard had heard from Olivia about Briana’s broken marriage. 

“Briana, art comes from life,” he said. “And honestly, struggle is what fuels inspiration. If life is always smooth, you’ll never create anything great. True masterpieces are born from heartbreak, hardship, and setbacks.” 

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The world’s most celebrated painters, both domestic and abroad, lived through profound struggles that gave birth to their greatest works. 

Briana smiled, “So, Mr. Dean, if I ever paint something famous, I guess I should credit my ex–husband for inspiration, huh?” 

“That’s right.” Leonard nodded. “So go ahead and start creating.” 

“I was just about to say the same. You’ve got to teach me everything, Mr. Dean,” Briana grinned. 

“No problem,” Leonard replied. 

These past few days, Briana had been swamped with the gallery’s renovation and grand opening, barely having a moment to herself. 

But now that things had finally calmed down, she could pick up her paintbrush again and let her inner world spill onto the canvas, capturing all the feelings she wanted to share with the world. 

All those years spent trying to keep up with Shepard, she gave up so much of herself. 

Now, she was ready to reclaim her true self, bit by bit. 

Briana stepped out of the studio and headed for the exhibition hall. 

It was a weekday, and with lunchtime coming up, there weren’t many people milling around the exhibition hall. 

But Briana’s eyes immediately landed on a few familiar faces. 

They were Henry, Eric, and Charles. 

These three guys had somehow ended up at her gallery together. 

Henry spotted her first and flashed a smile. “Briana.” 

Eric turned to her with a playful grin. “Briana, your gallery is impressive. It’s all over the news, so I just had to come see it for myself. When you make it big, don’t forget me.” 

“She’s getting famous, not amnesia,” Charles joked. “Don’t worry. She won’t forget you.” 

Briana couldn’t help raising her brows at the three of them. “Did you guys team up to crash my gallery or something?” 

“These guys have been passing some business my way and mentioned you a lot,” Charles said. “So I’m introducing you to the head of an art exhibition firm. We’re meeting for dinner tonight to chat. Briana, feel like joining us?” 

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