Page 13 of Unforgivable

Gavin checks his watch.

“Are we boring you, Gavin?” Bruno says, and Gavin visibly blushes.

I don’t know what it is with those two. Gavin is Bruno’s nephew by marriage, he gave him a job because Gavin loves art, but all Gavin does here is run errands for Bruno and serve wine at openings, and Bruno is always putting him down. Which is probably why Gavin decided to leave.

“It’s new, that’s all, the watch,” I say quickly, rushing to help. I know it is because Gavin showed it to me a couple of weeks ago. It’s a TAG Heuer, a present from his boyfriend that he wears on his right wrist for some reason. He showed it to me and I admired it and I was happy for him.

Bruno does a kind of harumph and turns back to Summer. “I trust Laura has explained what your duties will be? And Gavin, have you explained to Summer what you used to do around here?”

“Yes,” Summer says, smiling at Gavin, then at me. “Very clearly, thank you. I’m very excited to be here, and very excited about the exhibition.”

“Good to hear. Now, Laura, tell us what’s on the agenda for this week.”

“Excuse me, Bruno, but Laura, before we get to that,” Summer says. She lays down a large brown leather portfolio on the table. “I was hoping you would consider…” She unzips it. “This entry, for the Museum of Lost and Found. It’s a photograph of my partner.”

I’m not sure I heard her right. She opens it wide and turns the portfolio around to show us.

The photograph itself is actually not bad. It’s an outline in light and shadows, undulating skin, and it takes a moment to realize it’s a detail of a man’s back lying on a bed. There’s no doubt that it’s beautifully shot.

She points to the accompanying poem on the other side of the portfolio. “I was very inspired as you can see, Laura. And your concept made me think of when my partner and I broke up for a few months, and I thought I’d lost him, but fortunately he came back and proposed to me.” She shows me her diamond ring. A small diamond, but beautifully set in with smaller ones around it. I turn my attention to the poem.

On finding love and losing it and this is not how it ends.

I found my love on a Friday afternoon

I found myself in your arms

Finally, I found you, you said.

That night I found my true north in the moon

I’ll never let you go, you said.

You gave me your heart

Keep it forever, you whispered, and I will keep your heart.

For we must never be apart

What did I say? What did I do?

Why did you leave and take my heart with you?

I lost my love on Thursday afternoon.

But I found you again, my love.

And I will never let you go.

I look up because for a moment I’m thinking that this is a prank.

“What do you think?” she says, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

I’m speechless.

“Very beautiful,” Bruno says, nodding. “Your fiancé is a very lucky man. What do you think, Laura?”

I blink a few times, looking for the words. “It’s not really in the spirit of the concept—”

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