Semua Bab His sisters boyfriend : Bab 121 - Bab 130

Chapter One Hundred Twenty OneThe trial was quick.Viktor's confession was everything the prosecution needed. No jury. No long speeches. Just a judge reading the charges and passing the sentence. Twenty years. No chance of early release. The kind of sentence that meant Viktor Petrov would be an old man by the time he saw the outside world again.Jay sat in the front row with Cole. His wrist was still bandaged. The cut was healing. But the memory of the knife, the cold metal, the pressure of Viktor's fingers on his arm, those things stayed. They would stay for a long time.Cole held his hand the entire time. His grip was firm. Grounding. When the judge announced the sentence, Cole squeezed tighter."It's over," Cole said.Jay looked at him. "Is it?""It is."Jay wanted to believe him. He really did.Viktor was led away in handcuffs.He didn't look back. He didn't say anything. He just walked. The guards flanked him. His shoulder was still bandaged from where Jay had stabbed him. Five

Chapter One Hundred Twenty ThreeThe call came at 6am.Jay was still half asleep when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it blindly, knocking over a glass of water. The cold liquid soaked the sheets. He cursed under his breath. Cole stirred next to him."Who is it?" Cole mumbled."I don't know."Jay squinted at the screen. Unknown number. He almost ignored it. Something made him answer."Hello?""Jay. It's Simone."He sat up straight. "Simone?""I know it's early. I'm sorry.""What's wrong?""Nothing's wrong. I have news."Jay rubbed his eyes. "What kind of news?""The kind you've been waiting for. The Hamburger Bahnhof called. They want to move up your exhibition."Jay blinked. "Move it up?""To November. Two months from now."He looked at Cole. Cole was awake now, watching him with tired eyes. Jay put the phone on speaker."November?" Jay repeated."November. The curator said your work is in high demand. She wants to feature it in a special showcase. It's a big deal,

Chapter One Hundred Twenty FiveThe weeks flew by.Jay painted every day. Morning to night. His hands were stained with paint. His clothes were covered in splatters. He barely ate. He barely slept. He barely spoke. Cole watched him from a distance. He brought food. He left it on the table. He didn't interrupt."You're going to burn out," Cole said one night.Jay didn't look up from his canvas. "I'm fine.""You're not fine.""I'm fine."Cole walked over and stood behind him. "Jay. Look at me."Jay stopped painting. He turned around. His eyes were tired. Red. He looked like he hadn't slept in days."Come home," Cole said."I can't.""Yes, you can.""I need to finish this."Cole took the brush from Jay's hands. "You need to rest.""I need to finish this.""You can finish it tomorrow."Jay opened his mouth to argue. Then he closed it. He was too tired to argue. "Fine."He let Cole lead him out of the studio. They walked home in silence. The streets were quiet. The stars were out. Jay didn

The morning after the exhibition, Jay woke up to sunlight on his face and an empty bed. He sat up. Rubbed his eyes. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. He could hear the birds outside. He could hear the city waking up. But he couldn't hear Cole. He got out of bed. Walked to the kitchen. Cole was standing by the window. Coffee cup in his hand. Looking out at the street. "You're up early," Jay said. Cole turned around. His gray eyes were soft. "Couldn't sleep." "Thinking about last night?" "Thinking about everything." Jay walked to him. "Everything is good." "It is." "Then why can't you sleep?" Cole shrugged. "I don't know. I think I'm still processing." "Same thing." "It's not." "It is." Jay took the coffee cup from his hands. He set it down on the counter. Then he put his arms around Cole. "I love you," Jay said. "I love you too." The phone rang at 9am. Simone. "Jay," she said. "How are you?" "Good. Tired. Cole is here." "He should be. Last night

The phone rang at 7am. Jay grabbed it before it could wake Cole. "Hello?" "Jay." It was Simone. Her voice was tight. "We have a problem." Jay sat up. His heart started pounding. "What kind of problem?" "The curator called this morning. The museum is having funding issues. They might have to cancel the retrospective." Jay felt the words hit him like a punch. "Cancel?" "They're trying to find a solution. But it's not guaranteed." "But I've already painted twelve new pieces." "I know." "I've been working for months." "I know. That's why I'm calling. I want to fight for this." "How?" Simone was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to talk to them. I'm going to show them your work. Remind them why they wanted you in the first place." Jay ran a hand through his hair. His fingers were trembling. "What if it's not enough?" "Then we find another gallery." "I don't want another gallery." "I know." Jay closed his eyes. His hands were shaking. He tried to steady them. H