“Hannah.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Confused.”
He chuckled.
“About?”
“You apparently want to buy a painting.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I saw the watercolor you donated to the arts center fundraiser.”
I blinked.
“You went to the fundraiser?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“I was there briefly.”
I looked down.
“Damien, you don’t have to buy my work just because you feel sorry for me.”
His voice became serious.
“I don’t feel sorry for your talent.”
I swallowed.
“Then why?”
“Because I liked the painting.”
I was quiet.
He continued.
“If you don’t want to accept the commission, that’s perfectly fine.”
“What kind of landscape?”
“A lake at sunrise.”
I smiled faintly.
“Any particular lake?”
“Surprise me.”
I hesitated.
Then said, “My commissions aren’t cheap.”
His laugh was warm.
“I would hope not.”
For the first time, I negotiated the price of something I’d created.
I named an amount that made my stomach flutter.
Damien accepted it without argument.
The commission took three weeks.
I painted a quiet lake beneath an early morning sky.
Soft gold light touched the water.
A narrow path ran along the shore.
And in the distance, the darkness was gradually giving way to morning.
When I delivered the painting, Damien invited me to his office.
The same office.
The same enormous walnut desk.
The same dark carpet.
I stopped in the doorway.
Memories rushed back.
Brandon’s footsteps.
My trembling hands.
The desperate feeling of having nowhere to go.
Damien noticed immediately.
“We can meet somewhere else.”
I looked at him.
He didn’t move closer.
Didn’t touch me.
Simply waited.
I took a slow breath.
“No.”
Then I stepped inside.
“I want to do this.”
He nodded.
I placed the painting on a nearby table.
He studied it for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
“It’s beautiful.”
I felt my cheeks warm.
“Thank you.”
He looked at the narrow path I’d painted beside the lake.
“Why the path?”
I thought about my answer.
“Because I wanted somewhere for the person looking at the painting to go.”
Damien glanced at me.
“And where does it lead?”
I looked at the sunrise.
“Somewhere better.”
He smiled softly.
“Then I’ll keep it where I can see it.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked him something I’d been wondering for months.
“Why did you say those three words?”
He looked puzzled.
“What three words?”
“She decides.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“You could have told Brandon to leave. You could have threatened him. You could have called security without saying anything to me.”
Damien considered the question.
“Because your husband was talking as though you weren’t there.”
I swallowed.
“And?”
“And I wanted him to hear that you were.”
My eyes filled.
I looked away.
Damien waited until I was ready to speak again.
Then he said, “Hannah, there’s something I should tell you.”
My heart began beating faster.
