*EMILY*I spent the entire morning lying to myself. I wasn’t nervous. I was fine. It was just Adrian. The lie didn’t hold. I changed my shirt twice before 9am. A blouse, then a sweater, then back to the blouse because the sweater made me look like I was trying too hard. Which I was. I rearranged three paintings on the gallery wall. Then rearranged them again. I told myself I was being ridiculous. Except it wasn’t just Adrian anymore. That was the problem. The man who’d walked into my gallery weeks ago had looked like he owned the building, the block, and probably the city. Sharp suit. Colder eyes. The kind of man who didn’t ask, he decided. This Adrian drank terrible coffee because I’d once said I liked it. This Adrian had shown up to my exhibition in dress shoes and carried canvases without complaining. This Adrian remembered I took two sugars and never asked why. This Adrian had pulled out a sketchbook from when he was sixteen and let me see the boy who d
Last Updated : 2026-08-17 Read more