Todos los capítulos de Her poison, His antidote : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 15

The days leading up to the exhibition passed so fast,I had sleepless night painting my final brushstrokes. At some point I stopped counting how many times I repainted the same corner of a canvas, stopped noticing when the sun came up or went down. The studio became my entire world,The newly painted twelve canvases were my priority. I didn't go back to the club. I didn't look for Alex. I told myself I was too busy, too focused, too close to something important to let myself get distracted by green eyes and gentle smiles. And maybe I was afraid, Afraid that finding him would mean facing the version of myself who ran away, Afraid that he wouldn't remember me or that he would. So I painted,I painted until my shoulders ached and my eyes hurt. I painted until the faces of Austin blurred into something distant. The night of the exhibition arrived with the kind of nervousness that made my dress cling to my skin before I even left the apartment. I stood in front of my mirror for too lo

The name hit me like a physical blow. Austin. My hand stiffened in Alex’s hand. I could tell he felt the shift in my posture,the way my face turned pale, the way my breath caught and held. He turned to look at me, confusion flickering across his features, then followed my gaze to the doorway. Austin stood there, his shadow revealed against the dim gallery lights. He looked the same. God, he always looked the same. That easy smile, those eyes that had once convinced me I was the center of his universe. He was dressed casually,dark jeans, a leather jacket, like he had just rolled in from somewhere important. “Alex, man, sorry I am late.” Austin stepped forward, already reaching out for a handshake. “The flight got delayed and then…” He stopped. His eyes landed on me. On my hand, still held in Alex's. On my face, which had gone pale. “Ava?” Austin's voice cracked.. He blinked, like he was trying to clear a hallucination. “What…how…” “You know each other?” Alex asked. His voic

After the meeting that day, Alex became consistent in my world. Reaching out when he was out of town and showing up in person on a good day. One time, Alex showed up at my studio with two cups and no agenda. He made us coffee…Two hours of silence, broken only by the scratch of charcoal and the occasional hum of agreement from his side of the room. "You don't have to stay," I said. "I know." Yet, He stayed. The coffee became a ritual. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 10 a.m, no exceptions. He never texted to confirm, he just appeared, like the morning light. I had stopped complaining, I just make sure to be at the studio before 10 a.m, and honestly I had always looked forward to having him around. Some days we talked. Some days we dont. He learned that I painted best in silence and talked best when I wasn't looking at him. "You're deflecting," he said once, after I had spent ten minutes describing a documentary I had watched instead of answering his question about how I was