One of the visitors draped an arm around me and introduced me to her friend.
“Meet the ex–Mrs. Caldwell. Man, you’re more like his assistant,” she said.
I gave an awkward smile. “How so?”
“It was the first time I saw a wife begging the mistress to take more breakup cash. You were a saint,” she replied, laughing with her friend.
I shrugged. There was no anger left.
I just felt a twinge of regret for Rebecca. She didn’t deserve such a fate.
10
As I picked up a coffee order, a voice came from behind me. Chad approached in a wheelchair, and I turned to meet his eyes..
Summer was coming. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, but his legs were still blanketed.
He noticed my gaze and nervously smoothed the fabric. He stammered, “I haven’t checked out your gallery since it opened.”
He seemed to grope for an excuse or maybe forgot the one he’d prepared.
“You booked a whole museum for my old work. Why bother with a gallery?” I shrugged, bending down to straighten his blanket. “Just stop having your guys tail me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a black–suited man ducking behind a corner. It’d been months.
Chad’s lips parted, but only a sigh came out.
A young man, wiping sweat, leaned over the second–floor balcony. He frowned at Chad but soon relaxed. “Wrap it up and come up, Gracie. I’m starving.”
Chad’s hands clenched, and his veins bulged.
I saw it, patting his shoulder. “Alright, don’t come again.”
I jogged upstairs and pushed through the door. The young intern stifled giggles, and the room erupted in teasing.
“Your ex is gonna stew for days.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my palms upward. But thankfully, Chad never showed up again.
. Years later, he died from infections during surgery.
His will included one special clause. His private museum would be open to the public.
1/2
Chapter 10
The staff at my gallery went but came back with confused looks. “You should go see it.”
I went on a rainy day.
+25 Bonus
Besides my exhibited works in Mistormere were my early, clumsy paintings. Many were ones I’d tossed, thinking they sucked.
Each had a small note underneath. I recognized Chad’s handwriting, but some had faded with age.
[Painted by Gracie on April XX, 20XX. She’s getting better.]
At the exhibit’s end, I found his self–portrait. It was messy. Without his note, I’d have thought it was spilled ink.
It had a note too.
[June XX, 20XX. Forever Lost My Love. I got what I deserved.]
