Page 81 of Broken Pieces
I’m so exhausted.
We had more than enough rounds last night, and I’m feeling the consequences today. Not that I mind, anyway.
The left side of the bed feels cold to the touch, disappointment flooding through me.
Did he leave?
After we took a shower together—that ended in the most amazing shower sex— and we got in bed, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Last thing I remember is him kissing the top of my head and hugging me as he whispered good night.
I get up and walk to my closet, grabbing my favorite oversized sweater. The only thing I kept of my ex, but the thing is just so damn comfortable I never threw it away. Looking over my drawer, I notice our clothes neatly folded.
So he actually didn’t leave, and he’s a clean freak.
Walking out of the bedroom, I call out, “Damian?”
“I’m in here,” he says from the other room.
My studio.
No. No. No. Did I forget to lock it up last night?
I was so wrapped up in him, in the heat of the moment, that I must have forgotten. I typically lock the room when I have people come over. When it comes to my art, I’m so sensitive about it—mostly ashamed—if I’m being honest. Which is why even though I have some of my pieces hanging all over the loft, I make it a point to not sign my name. It’s not something I wish to share with the world, not anymore. It feels like a strange fever dream at this point.
My body trembles as I walk into the studio and find him in the middle of the room, in his boxer briefs, his eyes dancing in awe from one painting to another. Most of my favorite pieces are hanging in this room, since I like admiring them and using them as inspiration. Thin, white blankets stained with paint are scattered all over the hardwood floors to avoid any stains. White canvases of all sizes are all over the place, and a floor standing easel in the middle of the room with an unfinished painting.Having the easel in the center helps me look all around, and appreciate all of my art that is hanging all over the walls.
He looks over his shoulder, and my stomach feels queasy as his gaze locks with mine. His eyes are filled with awe; and pride. And it makes me feel so vulnerable and exposed, I want to crawl out of my skin.
“This is amazing, Darling. Did you paint all of these?”
I look away, embarrassed. “Yes. It’s just a hobby. Can you get out of the room, please?” I sigh.
“Ahobby?” He shakes his head, amazed. “You’re a full-on artist, Aria. Why didn’t you tell me?”
My hand takes a life of its own and starts scratching my neck, and my arms. My skin is itchy all over, like a sudden rash taking over. “I’m not an artist,trustme.” I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. My voice trembles as I ask, “Can you please get out of the room now?”
His brows furrow in confusion as we both walk out of the room. “I’m sorry. I was on my way to the kitchen to get some water and saw the door open, a painting caught my eye and I just got lost in it. In your art. Your beautiful art, may I add.”
I nod, locking the room. “I’m just very weird when it comes to my art, okay?”
He squeezes my arm caringly. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Aria…” There’s a warning in his tone. “When are you going to open up to me? I’m here for you.”
“It’s not like you open up to me either,” I retort.
He flinches at my comment and nods. “It’s not easy for me.”
“Ha. And you think it’s easy for me? I don’t want you to look at me differently, Damian.” I gulp. “You mean too much to me now.”
And that’s the truth. He’s too important to me now and my life is too complicated. My insecurities are too many to count.
He brings me in for a hug, kissing my forehead. “I told you, I’m here to catch you if you fall. Always. But we can talk about it when you’re ready. And you’re absolutely right, I need to open up too. I will.”
I don’t think I will ever be ready to dump years of childhood trauma on anyone. I feel safe around him, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to get him into something so personal. Not even Sophia knows the extent of it, and she’s my best friend.
But this is the man you are falling in love with. When are you going to open up? Let him in before you lose him.
