“Where are you? I hear noise and music.”
I glance at Alexander and point toward the stairs. He nods, and I walk up to the top where the sound of conversations and jazz fades to a distant murmur.
“Alexander’s sister invited a few friends over, and he asked me to come too.”
“Oh—you’re at a party,” she says, surprised. “Are you having fun, Mom?”
I smile. “Not a party, sweetheart. Just a small gathering to see her artwork. She’s a painter.”
“Cool! Send me pictures later?”
“Of course. I’ll ask her first, these are new pieces, but if she’s okay with it, I’ll send them.”
“I’m glad you went out, Mom. I thought you’d end up alone at home after Ethan left.”
Her sweetness melts my heart. “I would’ve been fine at home too. But the invitation came up, and I decided to say yes.”
“Good. I’m glad you went. Have fun, Mom. I’m gonna hang up and watch another episode of that K-drama with Dad.”
I tell her to enjoy the weekend with her father and that I’ll see her on Monday.
When I hang up and turn around, Alexander is already walking toward me.
“Is your daughter okay?” he asks the moment he’s close enough.
“Yes, she’s fine. She just wanted to call before it got too late.”
He smiles and takes my hand. “Come with me? I want to show you something.”
I follow him down the stairs. He leads me to a door tucked beneath them and enters a code into the lock. We step inside, and with a quick look around, I realize it’s Aurélie’s studio.
Canvases are scattered across the wide room. Some blank, others already claimed by bold, emotional sweeps of color. The space is a beautiful, intentional mess: open jars of paint, brushes abandoned mid-thought, fabrics draped over hooks... everything carrying her signature.
Alexander adjusts the lights, brightening the room just enough while shifting the tone to something cozy and inviting.
“While you were on the phone, it occurred to me that, if you want, we can cross something else off your list.”
I look at him, brow lifting, and he gestures at the materials scattered around us.
“Oh...” slips out. I’m unsure what to say.
Alexander steps behind me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder as he leans in, his voice low near my ear. “May I?”
I nod and set my purse on the table.
He helps me slide out of my jacket, then hangs it on a hook behind the door. I watch him move across the room, until he returns with a short-sleeved white smock.
“It’s going to be big on you. It’s Aurélie’s, but it’ll keep your clothes clean.”
He helps me into it, and when he realizes it’s a wrap style, I cross the ties in front. He steps behind me again, fingers brushing my back as he knots them securely.
When he comes around to face me, there’s an amused smile on his lips. “Ready to explore your artistic side?”
I laugh, take my phone from my bag, drop it into the smock pocket, just in case Alicia or Ethan calls, then look up at him.
“Show me where to start.”
Alexander rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, and I can’t make myself look away. The studio lighting catches the rich bronze of his skin, that golden undertone that contrasts so sharply with the crisp white fabric. The veins along his forearms stand out as he pushes the sleeves higher, every movement revealing another line of muscle until the fabric stops at his elbows.
