She had done all of this… for me? I held her gaze, trying to process the shock. But while I’d normally find a sharp, icy glare, tonight her eyes were crystal clear wells inviting me to take a plunge.
Needing to break the spell, I stepped past her and farther into the space. I stopped at the first painting.
She must have called in quite a few favors.
But I couldn’t figure out why. She still wanted me gone, and was just using me for The Oracle’s bidding. Even if she was trying to apologize for lying, her motives hadn’t changed.
Clearing her throat, Dom was startled by the echo through the quiet space. “You loved art when you were little. Used to stand in the hallways and stare up at whatever piece caught your eye that day.”
How did she remember more of my childhood than I did? It made me want to punch her in the chest again, to push her around and take all of it out on her. And I knew she could take it, that she could handle all of the anger I was holding inside.
“I heard Leo pushing you to make more art.” Dom’s jaw tensed as she siddled up to me, her eyes still peeled on me. “Thought this might help.”
I kept my arms crossed, locked into place.
“Here.” Dom nudged a clear plastic cup into my hand. Somehow in my shock, I hadn’t seen her go to the snack and wine bar at the edge of the gallery and grab glasses of wine. The crimson liquid might help calm me down. Or it could have made me even more bold.
Either way, I took a sip. It was shockingly delicious, a crisp bite that went down smoothly.
“I hate wine.” Dom shook her head as we walked to the next painting. “But who’s going to say no to a free drink?”
“You sound like a wine mom.” I raised an eyebrow at her.
Trying to play it cool, Dom tried to shrug but her broad shoulders looked stiff — more like she was doing an exercise than being a normal human being.
I finished off the cup of wine, both of us needed to loosen up. Before I knew it, another cup was in my hand and my chest was starting to feel warm.
We moved from piece to piece. The freshly painted white walls of the gallery were filled with Art Nouveau style work. But over each piece was splatters of paint, abstract expressionism erasing the shapes and figures underneath.
A hum of pleasure passed my lips as we stopped in front of a honey-toned piece.
“Tell me.” It wasn’t a suggestion. She was just as drawn to it, taking a step closer.
Swallowing my nerves as heat rose in my throat, I kept my eyes on the piece. “It’s like they finished the painting and then decided to ruin it. Like they couldn’t allow such beauty to exist without the imperfection.”
We stood there staring at the singular work for more time than I could count. The silence between us felt more healing than any words she’d spoken before now.
When I felt as if my lungs couldn’t pull in more breath, I turned to look at her.
Caving, she met my eyes too. I felt myself drawing closer to her, wanting to put my body on hers against my better judgement. Against every self-protecting instinct I had.
Her face was beautiful, something I hadn’t let myself notice before now. Even when we were younger I thought she was stunning. Her jaw had grown more chiseled, her features more defined with age.
The cool ice of her eyes was enough to distract me from her plush lips up until now. There was no ignoring the soft flesh of her strict mouth. I wasn’t sure I’d seen her smile since she was fifteen.
And at that moment, it was the only thing I wanted to see.
Her chest rose and fell, the muscles underneath that dress shirt straining to contain her.
“We should go.” Dom pulled away, her nose scrunching in a snarl. It was like the very thought of kissing me made her want to throw up, like she’d smelled days old garbage.
As she turned on the heel of her dress shoes, I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling.
How fucking ridiculous.
God forbid we had a nice moment. All of that sweet talking, for what?
Not that I even wanted to be that close to her.
