I Love My Man (Nicole's Erotic Romance) by Lacey Sabrina

Author:Lacey, Sabrina [Lacey, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lacey Publications
Published: 2014-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

An Hour Later – At Home

I watch Jessica’s name vanish for the millionth time while I wait. “Damn Jess, you are persistent!” She’s been texting and calling and texting and calling, and then texting and calling some more. I haven’t listened to her voicemails. Her texts go unread, which takes some doing. I’ve not responded in any way except with one simple text of a single sentence that she still can’t seem to get through her thick skull: I need some time.

My studio is lit by over twenty, flickering candles that give off a nice amount of heat in this small space. I’ve stretched a brand new piece of canvas, pinned it to the wall, and I’m ready to go. I’ve got a bottle of wine, an unopened pack of cigarettes, and Beyoncé’s secret release album playing loud on the speakers. This isn’t a huge studio loft, but it’s mine.

As is this fire within me.

As is this time.

As is this paintbrush.

As is this explosion of color pouring from my mind, heart, and soul.

Gushing magenta paint from a fresh tube, I wind the bright color in circles and waves on the fabric before taking a brush and making tiny smooshes where my instinct moves me. Orange is next, blending and twisting up the magenta. Then red is smeared in beautiful spirals and zigzags for accent. I detail in tiny black lines last, for the leaves like tiny spider webs, taking over an hour of my careful attention. Then I use deep dark yellow for the tree trunks, drawing them in slender slices until I’m satisfied there are enough.

This is not a landscape that someone’s grandma painted and hung over plastic-covered furniture. No. This is an abstract explosion of Mother Nature’s fire, the way I saw it in my mind when Mark and I walked through Central Park, holding hands. I’m releasing that day from circling my mind. It’s been on replay ever since he left. The only way to get it out before it drives me insane is to get it out through my art.

Could I have done things differently? Is it too late? Will there be a price worth paying? Will I lose someone I love? Will I forgive myself for that?

Will I forgive them?

These colors are the same as Michael’s painting, but he only got it half right. He was missing the most important ingredient: Mark. Those colors and light do not exist in me without the two of us together. We made that. So for us, beneath the flaming trees, I draw only our hands weaved together, the size of the entire canvas base. Our fingers are swirled together red, orange, and magenta, same as the leaves. We are nature… natural… a love that came from light.

Love.

My heart twists painfully when I hear the word whisper into my thoughts like a memory I’d forgotten I had. It’s so strong, this pain, that it feels like I’m dying. Tears jump to my eyes, ruining my vision. I brush them away, choosing to focus and pull the paint out through my brush, instead.

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