Page 115 of For the Love of Art

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

“Isla.”

Don sounded relieved to hear my voice. Like I was a glass of water after spending hours walking through the Sahara.

“Hi, Don.”

I’d talked to him so many times since the separation to sort out the divorce. Every time we spoke, it felt mechanical. I didn’t know how to respond when he sounded… emotional.

I looked at Nathan. His brows were knit together in concentration.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

Don didn’t reply. I knew he was still there because I could hear him breathing.

“Don?”

Nothing.

I sighed. “Look, if you have nothing to say, then I’m going to–”

“Don’t hang up!” he said quickly, his voice thick with desperation. “Please, Isla. Don’t hang up on me.”

I suddenly felt worried. “Is everything okay? The baby?”

“The baby is fine,” he answered. “Healthy as can be.”

My body relaxed. “Good.” Even if I didn’t like Marissa, I didn’t want her to go through the pain I did.

“I don’t want to talk about Marissa or the baby, though,” he admitted. “I wanted to see if we could meet.”

“Meet?” Nathan tensed beside me. “In person?”

“Yes.”

“Um–” I looked at Nathan. “Can you give me a second?”

I muted myself so Don couldn’t hear.

“He wants to see me in person,” I said.

Nathan nodded. “I got that.”

“I feel like I should say yes. Have him come to the gallery,” I said.

Nathan looked uncomfortable but replied, “Okay.”

I took Nathan’s hand in mine, linking our fingers. “I can give him the signed divorce papers.”

Nathan’s face lit up. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really.”

Nathan kissed me, then pointed at the phone. “Do it.”

I unmuted the call and said, “Can you meet at the gallery at ten?”