Abram’s been more attentive than I ever imagined a man capable of being. He brings me breakfast in bed, takes me to every appointment with the doctor, and sleeps only after I fall asleep. He’s canceled more meeting than I care to count, all because he doesn’t want to waste a single moment of our journey into parenthood.
If he’s hovering so now, I wonder what it would be like once the baby is here. Already, rooms are being cleared to break and recreate a large nursery. We’re thinking of names and babymoons…
The phone's shrill ring breaks my chain of loving thoughts. I see Carl's name on the screen and answer eagerly. Carl and I have been making strides, catching up for coffee almost every other week. In a way, I’ve become fond of his company.
"Zara! I've got incredible news," Carl's voice crackles with excitement. "Remember that reclusive painter you've been trying to track down? I think I've found him."
My heart leaps. "Are you serious? The one I told you about last week?"
"The very same. He's agreed to meet with you to discuss potentially showing his work."
"Oh my god, Carl! That's amazing!" I can barely contain myself. This could be huge for the gallery. "When and where?"
"This evening, if you're free. I'll text you the address."
"I'll be there," I assure him, already mentally rearranging my schedule. "Thank you so much for setting this up."
As I hang up, I feel a thrill of anticipation. Between my engagement, the baby, and now this potential artistic coup, it seems like everything in my life is aligning perfectly. I think once more of Abram and how everything has fallen into place since I met him. With him by my side, I feel invincible, ready to take on the art world and beyond.
I tap his number, my fingers trembling with excitement to share the good news. He answers on the second ring, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.
"Hello, Darling," he purrs. "Miss me already?"
I laugh, giddy. "Always. But guess what? Carl just called with amazing news. He's found that reclusive artist I've beendying to meet! The next Banksy, they call him. If I can get a few pieces for our gallery, we’d be the talk of the town!"
"Ah, your mysterious painter," Abram chuckles. "Should I be jealous of this new man in your life?"
"Oh, stop it," I tease back, warmth spreading through my chest. "You know you're the only man for me. But this could be huge for my career!"
"I have no doubt you'll charm him, my love," Abram says, his voice rich with pride. "Your passion for art is irresistible. That, with those big, beautiful eyes of yours, and he'll be putty in your hands."
I blush, grateful he can't see me. "You're terrible. But thank you for believing in me."
"Always, Zara. Now, go and conquer the art world. I'll be waiting to celebrate with you tonight."
As I hang up, I'm floating on cloud nine.
***
Later that evening, at around six, I find myself in a part of town I've never visited before. The streets are narrow, buildings looming overhead, blocking out the sun. A chill runs down my spine, my earlier elation fading as I drive further down.
This can’t be right, but the GPS is leading me right in this direction. I pull the car over and sit inside, looking around warily. I’m about to pull out my phone to call Carl when I notice movement near a warehouse on the right. I lower my window, looking out for a clearer view, and see Carl standing next to the dilapidated building.
I’m in the right place. I step out and walk toward him.
“Carl?”
He turns to me, a grin spreading across his face.
“Oh good.” He rubs his hands together, rushing to my side. “You’re here.”
“What is this place?" I ask uneasily. The entire street is dead. No cars, no people, no streetlights. It’s like a small ghost town. I’m surprised it’s even on the map.
"Don't worry, Zara. Our guy's just… eccentric. He likes his privacy, you know? Come on, I'll take you right to him."
I hesitate, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach. "Are you sure this is safe?"
"Absolutely," Carl assures me, his eyes peering into mine with a strange focus. "Trust me, okay? This could be your big break."