Page 119 of Painting Celia

What?

She was shaking, face beet red. “This is over.”

His mouth fell open. She wasn’t serious!

She stared at him, angry tears starting. “Get out.” Her voice was flat, final.

A chill washed over him. She couldn’t reject him—he needed her! Had she not heard anything he’d just said?

“You don’t mean it.”

“No means no!”

Fury rose. He stabbed at her with a finger. “This isn’t over!”

“Oh yes it is!”

Stumbling backward another step, León stared as an iron coldness stiffened her whole body. Her eyes were glacial, her mouth rigid. She marched toward him, and he retreated backward, chased into the hall. As she passed their bedroom door, she leaned in, one leg outstretched behind her as she leaned down. She reappeared with his hoodie from the floor, balling it up and throwing it at him. He caught it as it bounced off his bare chest.

“Get out!” she shrieked.

And so, he ran.

•••

Stunned and frightened, León ran straight to Andrew’s, heart hammering for the entire car ride. Andrew knew them both, he’d know what to do. He took Celia’s side more than León had expected, though.

“Dude, that is a new kind of stupid,” Andrew said, mouth open in amazement. “No woman is going to agree to belong to someone. None.”

“She knows what I mean.” León’s footsteps echoed as he stomped his old pacing path from window to kitchen. “My paintings are there, my gear. She’ll have to let me in to collect it. I can talk to her then.”

“And say what? You’re sorry, and you’ll never bring it up again?”

León stopped at the front window, looking down at the empty pool below. “Fuck!” The word bounced off the close walls.

Andrew moved a pile of clothes off the couch. “How about you sit down, huh? Calm down a little.”

León wiped cold, clammy hands on his jeans. “I should just go back. I’ll apologize. She’ll listen.”

“Man, you are not as good at predicting Celia as you think.”

“I know her!”

“And yet here we are!” Andrew sat and patted the couch. “Come sit.”

León stalked into the kitchen.

“Celia can be a hard-ass,” Andrew said. “She bought that bitch mother a house a long way off.”

Back to the window. “So what?”

“So, you’re demanding things she won’t do. And now who’s banished?”

León bounced on the balls of his feet, prickly with adrenaline. A sickly cold weight was growing in his stomach. “Shit, Andrew. What do I do?”

“Grovel? Ask her to marry you? Is that close enough to owning her?”

“This is about painting!”

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