Page 86 of Stalker's Toy

“Is that who I think it is?” Her tone was filled with disgust.

Days later, the girl was gone, just like my mother knew she would be.

“I told you she wasn’t right for you, Henrik. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

That’s how she does it. The past. The future. Everything.

I’ll never let her be right again, especially not about Mia.

She acts like I’m weak, like I’m different, like I’ve changed.

But, she can’t see me.

She never could.

But, Mia does.

Finally, we arrive at the gallery.

I toss my keys to the valet and get out, not bothering to open her door.

Her shoes click obnoxiously on the pavement as she walks inside.

Click, click, click.It grates on my nerves, infuritates me.

She looks at one of my new paintings and frowns. “Is it supposed to be so… dark?” She sounds almost embarrassed.

“I guess that’s what people like now.” And just like that, every artist she’s ever known is better than I am,every painting she’s ever seen is more to her taste, more impressive.

I just ignore her and keep looking around the room for my girl.

“Are we waiting for someone?” she asks, looking around the gallery, and I can’t wait for her to see.

Yes.

We are.

She has no idea what I’ve got planned.

It’s perfect.

It’s worth every second of her aggravating questions, every critical word, every minute I thought I couldn’t handle.

“Are you sure there’s a market for work like this?”

The door opens, and there she is.

My muse.

My world.

I watch as my mother’s eyes go wide.

“What on Earth isthat?”

She’s shocked.

She’s appalled.

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