The Rebirth of My Dead Billionaire Wife

Chapter 246

Avery sat in her living room, clutching her coffee mug tightly. Her best friend, Janice, was sprawled across the couch with a curious expression, her phone in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other.

“So,” Janice said, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “What’s this big news you had to tell me? Don’t keep me in suspense, Aves.”

Avery hesitated, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of her mug. “Okay, but promise me you won’t freak out.”

Janice raised an eyebrow. “Freak out? This sounds juicy already. Spill.”

Avery took a deep breath, her heart racing. “I found a secret room in Ryan’s house.”

Janice froze mid-chew, her eyes narrowing. “What kind of secret room are we talking about? Like, skeletons in the closet secret or creepy man cave secret?”

“It’s a… gallery,” Avery said cautiously.

“Gallery?” Janice sat up straighter, intrigued. “Like, art gallery? What’s so weird about that?”

“It’s all paintings,” Avery said, her voice quiet. “Of me.”

Janice’s Shock

Janice stared at her, her mouth slightly open. “Paintings of… you?”

Avery nodded, her cheeks flushing under Janice’s incredulous gaze.

“Wait, hold up.” Janice set her bowl down and leaned forward, pointing a finger at Avery. “You’re telling me Ryan Hayes—Ryan, the guy who made high school hell for you—has a secret room full of paintings of you? Are you joking right now?”

“I’m not joking,” Avery said, her voice firm. “They’re real, Jan. He’s been painting me since high school. There’s one of me in my prom dress, another from when I was still—”

“Fat?” Janice interjected bluntly, though her tone was laced with sympathy.

Avery winced but nodded. “Yeah. Even from then.”

Janice blinked, clearly trying to process what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, what the hell? Second of all, how do you feel about this? Because I feel like I should be freaking out on your behalf right now.”

Avery set her mug down, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t even know how to feel, Jan. At first, I was angry. I mean, how could he paint me for years without telling me? But then he explained why.”

Janice crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear. What’s his excuse for being a creepy, secretive Picasso?”

“It’s not what you think,” Avery said quickly. “He wasn’t painting me to be weird or obsessive. He was doing it because he…” She paused, struggling to find the right words.

“Because he what?” Janice prompted, her eyes narrowing.

“Because he admired me,” Avery said finally. “Even back in high school.”

Janice stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Admired you? Are we talking about the same Ryan Hayes here? The guy who used to call you names and make fun of you in gym class?”

“Yes,” Avery said, her voice firm. “But that’s not the whole story. He told me why he acted like that.”

“Please, enlighten me,” Janice said, leaning back with her arms crossed.

Avery sighed, recounting everything Ryan had told her. “Apparently, when he was a teenager, his dad had an affair. The woman his dad cheated with was… a heavier woman. Ryan was angry—at his dad, at the situation, at everything—and he didn’t know how to handle it. So, he took it out on me.”

Janice’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Avery said. “He admitted it. He said he was insecure and immature, and instead of dealing with his feelings properly, he projected all that anger onto me.”

Janice shook her head, her voice dripping with disbelief. “So, let me get this straight. He bullied you because he was mad at his dad? That’s some next-level therapy material right there.”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Avery said, her voice softening. “But he’s genuinely sorry, Jan. He told me he hated himself for how he treated me. And the paintings… they weren’t about the bullying. They were about how he really saw me.”

Janice tilted her head, curiosity creeping into her expression. “And how did he see you?”

“He said I was his muse,” Avery said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “He thought I was beautiful, even back then. But he was too afraid to admit it, so he hid behind the paintings.”

Janice let out a low whistle, leaning back against the couch. “Wow. This is… a lot. Like, a lot a lot. The bully wasn’t actually a bully—he was an admirer with daddy issues and no emotional regulation. What a plot twist.”