Page 32 of Partnering with the Artist

“So you can always come right in and access your studio.”

Her legs jerk, and she pedals backward, hitting the hall wall behind her. “H-h-huh?”

She is socute. Everything about her makes me want to keep her close and hurt anyone who’s made her anything less than impetuous. She should walk with confidence and arrogance, always, her little nose in the air, like a giraffe.

“Zakery, I’ve only worked for you one week. You’ve given me so much already. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“I’m rich,” I offer. “I like you.” I smile when heat runs up her neck. “Rich people do weird things and have strange hobbies. My hobby might be spoiling pretty princesses that I like to draw.”

“I…I just don’t know if I feel comfortable with this?”

“Whyever not?”

She swallows, wetting her lips. “Already, it seems worth more than letting you draw me? I’m not evenmodeling. I’m just sitting around. What…else do you expect to gain from giving me this?”

“What else?” I stalk a step toward her.

She flattens herself against the wainscotting.

I skate my fingers across her cheek, thread them into her hair, and pin her. Lips inches apart, I whisper, “A personal wardrobe, of course.” I smile. “You can be my little Cinderella mouse.” I comb my fingers out of her locks and put distance between us. “Don’t be so afraid, Maelin. If I wantedmorefrom you, I’d ask for it. I’m a tease, not a threat. Manipulation was more…my parents’thing.”

She shudders in response to the roughness in my voice upon mentioning them. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m not trying to beungrateful. I’m just baffled that anyone would give me so much without expecting something bigger in return.”

I lift a shoulder. “It’s okay, princess. I understand. After all, we’ve both been abused. It’s hard when you come out of a toxic relationship to feel like anything you do is enough.”

Her beautiful eyes crack. “A…bused?”

“As far as I can tell, your reactions to some things stink of trauma. Harry did a number on your soul. But, well, for what it’s worth, that pretty soul of yours is enough for me. More than enough. I love the way you just sit around. I love the excitement in your eyes and the way you chatter on. If Saturday didn’t prove it, I love being around you. I was reluctant to say goodbye. I dreamt of you and woke depressed that we weren’t still together.” My heart pinches, for reasons I can’t discern. “You…make me forget myself. I appreciate that a great deal.”

“Harry wasn’t…he wasn’tabusive. He was selfish. But…that’s different. Being self-centered means you hurt other people, but that’s not abuse. Abuse is intentional.”

I drop my back against the wall beside her, glancing down at her pretty face when she turns those glass eyes on me. In the low light streaming from the open void before us, she’s pretty in all kinds of new ways. “Princess. Can I be real with you?”

“I…guess?”

“I’m self-centered. Extremely so. Everyone is, actually, if you take a moment to think about it.” I tuck her long hair back over her ear. “Even you’re self-centered—but what else are you going to be? Your operating system is positioned at the center ofyou. It’s normal. Natural. Part of being alive, being human. It is, quite fully, unavoidable. It takes effort to think about other people. But when you’re in a relationship with someone—especially a romantic relationship with expectations that can cut straight into your flesh—it is vital to find that effort. I know it’s…easier…to believe that these people we love also love us, atleast to the best of their flawed abilities…but…trust me.” I touch my forehead to hers. Soak in the heat. “They don’t deserve that kindness. There is nodid their bestwhen it comes to love. Love either is, or isn’t. Love has a distinctive definition. It’s when we sacrifice something we want for the good of someone else, consistently, every time.”

“That’s…impossible.” A crystal tear slips down her cheek. “I can’t even do that for my sister, and I know I love my sister. But sometimes I’m tired, or unkind, and I don’t mean it or I regret it later, but…we’re all human. We make mistakes.”

“Yes, we do. We choose not to love. Love is hard, and we occasionally act in ways that don’t depict it. But, when we mess up like that, assuming it is something that deeply matters to those we love, what we do to make up for it also matters. Love doesn’t care about expectations. Love doesn’t care abouthumanity. I believe that life is about growing in love. It’s about getting closer and closer to the kindness and care that love is built around. It’s about clear communication when we fail to live up to the standard of love. It’s about intention. Abuse happens when we are not intentional about love, so in that backwards way, isn’t all abuse an absence of good intent? Or, rather, achoice?” Daring, I kiss her forehead and cup her face in my hand to swipe away her tears. “Did your ex really, truly, and deeplyintendto love you with every one of his actions and words? Or did he take advantage of your intentions to love him, abusing you in the process with his choices?”

Thoughts stream in her beautiful eyes as the cracks deepen, then shatter. “I…don’t know.”

“Did he hurt you with his words often?”

Her eyes close. Fragile, she says, “Yes.”

“Did you tell him?”

Her chin dips.

“Did he stop? Did he apologize if he slipped up on somethingyou already talked to him about? Or, did he make it your fault? Did he say how he wasn’t perfect and couldn’t remember everything you expected of him? Did he threaten you with emotional distance by claiming you’d just be better off without him if he was soterrible?”

“How…can I expect people to be perfectly kind with me when I’m far from perfect myself? I couldn’t change myself for him. Why would I ask him to change for me?”

“Because,” I growl, adjust my tone, speak softer, “because, Maelin, he asked you to change who you are. You asked him to treat you like a person he loved. There is a difference. And it’s important. Everyone’s behaviors are abusive every once in a while. It’s the consistency and intention that defines us. If he couldn’t stand your character, it was his job to say very early on in the relationship that you didn’t fit. He abused you instead, because he saw the love in you for him and knew he could use it to feel better about himself. It is that simple. There is absolutelynothing—” The word leaves me raw. “—that is so great or so damaging or so anger-inspiring that it should excuse treating someone youlovepoorly. You deserve someone who saysI’m pissed at you, but I love you more than my anger, so we’re gonna get through this together. And that is all there is to it.”

“I feel so stupid.” Her voicebreaks.

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