Page 33 of Partnering with the Artist

Stupidly, I pull her into my arms, rest my chin atop her head, and let a struggling breath through my lungs. “It’s not stupid to love, princess. It’s never stupid to love. What’s stupid is abusing someone who loves you. The lengths a person will go for someone they love dearly has no limit. Don’t ever think you were stupid for letting him run you dry when he could have filled you to bursting and basked in the reward.”

“You’re too kind to me,” she whispers.

I…might be.

I’d love to say that I’m just great at loving people for beingpeople, and I’d extend my kindness to anyone, but I am very much not that type of person. I value spare few people in this world. Spare few people make me feel less like the princely puppet my parents wanted me to show the masses.

Hardly anyone makes mefeelhuman.

Because feelings are so hard for me to wrap my skin around.

That’s why I put strict definitions on emotions and grant them clear action-based identities. It is the only way that I can figure them out. It is the only way that I can pretend I know what they feel like.

There are precious few in my life who love me enough to forgive my mistakes and let me continue loving them in my broken way.

There are precious few in my life who love me enough to let me be annoying and imperfect around them.

But those precious few…are everything to me.

And I think…I think Maelin’s becoming one of them.

Chapter 12

?

I am but a spoiled seamstress mouse.

Maelin

Zakery’s been somewhat dazed ever since this morning, in the hall. I can’t say I am not also somewhat dazed, and skeptical, and hesitant, and staring at furniture that—singularly—costs as much as I spent yesterday, while he says,Oh, yeah, sure, get whatever you want, Maelin.

I keep waiting for the part where he tells me now that he’s “doneall thisfor me,” he expects somethingmorethan me sitting around or making him clothes.

Making him clothes doesn’t even feel like a way to pay him back, honestly.

An excuse to make pretty outfits? To figure out how to dopants? That’s a dream come true. I’ll be cussing, but I’ll be happy. Just like him, when he’s drawing.

Cool smile on his face and his hands in his pockets, he meanders after me through the furniture store while I look at shelves and storage and desks and armoires andcrafting cabinets. Seeing the crafting cabinets made me drool. Then I saw the price. Three thousand dollars.

Three. Thousand.

Three weeks of allowance.

Because of how I behaved when I went over my budget on Saturday—or so he informed me earlier when I asked what my budget was today—I no longerhavea budget. I am toget what I need. Point blank.

I do notneeda crafting cabinet.

(Unless…?)

No. No. I donot. I can get a desk and shelves for a fraction of the cost. Whocaresthat the crafting cabinetopens uparound the desk inside it, putting the person sitting at the desk in a little fantasy world of pretty things?

I don’t need it.

And I’m being very indecisive, wasting his time, causing trouble for him.

I need to pull myself together, pick some furniture, and stop being so wishy-washy because the idea of spending so much money gives me hives.

If I wasn’t going to accept his offer to furnish a studio for me in his mansion, I shouldn’t have let him drive us out to the furniture store. Period. I should have said,I’m sorry. That makes me uncomfortable. I’d prefer if we not do that.

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