“Yes?” he said, doing his best to keep his voice low and gentle. It wasn’t her fault his life was falling apart.
“Would it be all right if I sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight? My kids are staying at their cousins’.”
“Sure. Feel free. Good night.”
“Good night, Gavin.”
As Gavin went up to the second floor, dread filled his gut. How would he bear the sight of a half-empty suite? She had—
He stopped short at the open door and blinked. What the…?
Amandine had supposedly taken her things, but nothing seemed to be missing from the room. The pink and ivory music box he’d bought her a month after they’d gotten married was still on the night table, and he knew Amandine loved playing it when she read before going to bed. Her silk night robe was draped over a chair. For some reason it reminded him of a lavender colored corpse.
He went to the closet. All her dresses, blouses and pants were still in there, along with her shoes. What had she taken then?
He started the conveyor. It showed him everything, including his own clothes, until it got to the section that used to have her old things. Those were gone.
He went into the bathroom. All her toiletries were still there…but not her favorite brush, which she’d had for years.
So she’d taken her old things back? Why not take her new clothes as well? Was it because he’d mentioned the prenup? Or because she wanted a clean break, with nothing from their life together to remind her of him?
He rubbed the back of his neck. The muscles there felt like obdurate pebbles under his hand. The prenup was specific about how she’d get nothing except the presents he’d given her during their marriage. She was entitled to take the Mercedes, the private jet…and all her designer clothes and shoes.
Question answered.
Sighing, he poured himself two fingers of bourbon and surveyed his surroundings. Having her things still in the room made the situation even more painful. It felt like she’d come out of the bathroom at any moment, or maybe from her newly finished studio and say, “Look, if you finally understand how angry I was then it’s all good. Now come kiss me.”
He shook his head. The key to being a successful investor was the ability to separate reality from wishful thinking, and Gavin was very good at it. Too good to believe that Amandine would magically appear now.
He put the drink down and walked to the studio on the other side of the mansion. When she’d mentioned converting one of the unused bedrooms, he’d hired an architect and construction crew instead. She deserved better than a spare room.
The studio’s walls were made of round glass panes that formed a cylindrical shape with a huge skylight in the ceiling. The architect had said the design would maximize the light, and Amandine had agreed.
“Want to add or change anything?” Gavin had asked, while the architect waited.
“No. I like it as is.” Amandine had smiled. “Thank you.”
She’d used the studio for only two weeks.
; Gavin turned on the light. The glass walls showed shadowed darkness on the other side. There was only a single lonely canvas in the room. Must’ve been too big to fit into her car. A bed sheet covered it.
A musician friend had told him that artists might lie with their words, but not through their art. If he looked at the piece, would he be able to figure out what was in her heart? He’d never seen any of her works before. She’d never offered, and he’d never asked.
He pulled the cloth off.
The work was all pink, yellow and red swirling and mixing in the bottom half of the canvas. But there was no paint on the top half. Gavin gazed at it, trying to put a name to the odd sensation he got from the colors and patterns. If someone had simply described the shades used, he would’ve assumed the painting would be delightful, even coy and playful. But that was completely wrong.
Bleakness. Despair. False cheeriness.
Gavin looked away, then stared at Amandine’s art again. His mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. The work truly conveyed darkness.
Damn it. Why was she unhappy? He’d given her everything.
Where and how had he gone wrong?
Most importantly, could he fix it? If so, how?