Climb | ✔

Chapter 29 | Conviction

He stroked her head in place of an apology, coming up with no good way to compensate for his outburst. The whole of Winter's entourage entered the building rather fortuitously after, allowing John the opportunity to slink back and collect himself fully.

"Winter!" Gina shrieked as she rushed her, jumping into her arms.

When she drew back from her, she looked her up and down to appraise the work she and her older sister had done. "Mm!" she exclaimed. "I do good work."

"You do," Winter returned with a playful grin.

"Congratulations, Win!" Daisy beamed as she took her turn to hug Winter.

The rest of the lot joined in soon after, passing around their congratulatory statements and hugs. Luke also added in a bonus bouquet of flowers for her.

"From everyone," he said.

Winter looked between all of her friends and offered a coy thanks, eyes sparkling with glee. Murdoch and Rick came not 20 minutes later, providing her with a second bouquet.

"Oh? So you're actually giving it directly to me this time?" Winter teased as she accepted the flowers from Murdoch.

He responded with a tight and playful smile, his lips pinched into a firm line as he tipped his head to the side. "Say more and it'll be the last time."

Mrs. Paladino came around from her rounds around the room soon after, offering her second congratulatory speech of the night. Winter, while flustered by her art teacher's overly kind words, felt entirely indebted and grateful to the woman who pushed and urged her to go beyond her artistic boundaries. She promised to say as much and gift the woman something nice next time she could catch some alone time with her.

The rest of the day was spent schmoozing with art critics, gallery curators, and creatives alike, until the first day of the exhibition came to a close. As a not-so-subtle way of congratulating Winter and attempting to make amends, John Moore offered to take the entire lot from Liberty out to dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city, though it did little to quell Winter's appetite for a proper apology.

The tensions between father and daughter only mounted along the quiet, awkward ride home. Rose managed to fill the vast gaps of reticence with her one-woman monologue about running the shop and restoration.

Once they got to the apartment, it seemed everything was perfectly poised to fall apart, and the catalyst was a minor comment made by none other than John Moore as he shrugged off his coat.

"I must say Winter, your art has only gotten better and better. You're a real talent, but let's not get our heads too far in the clouds. Know what I mean?"

For once, Winter was prepared to bite back, but Rose beat her to the punch.

"Oh, and how about you keep your head out of your ass, John?" she spat.

"Excuse me?" he scoffed.

"I mean, seriously! Why do you always have to demean her?"

"I'm not demeaning her."

"But you are! When you deny her the praise she so deserves by constantly feeling the need to remind her about the future you chose for her."

"The decisions we've come to, we made together. Don't speak like you know about everything we've been through and everything we discussed! This isn't your place, Rose. You're not her mother."

"And Winter is not her mother either!" yelled Rose, her tanned face burning red in anger.

John took a shaky step back before recovering. "I know that," he hissed.