*Giovani*
I stood in Olivia's art studio, staring at the canvas on the easel. I'd sat on the bed for a long time after she stormed out, and when I finally got up, I didn't know where I was going.
After the yelling, even standing in there felt like a violation. She'd told me I was welcome, but I couldn't stop remembering the way her hands felt on my chest when she shoved me away.
I messed up. That glared back at me from every angle of the painting, a fury of reds and purples, blues and blacks, all coalescing around a face in the middle of the canvas. If I stood on one side of the painting, it looked like Olivia, but on the other, somehow, I couldn't see anything but Elena.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed her number. I needed to talk to her, to explain, to beg her to come home. Jus……
Waiting for the first comment……
Please log in to leave a comment.