Chasing His Muse

Collin called me this morning. Laura put me on the line with him, after confirming whether I would like to receive his phone call or not. I said yes to her. Saying I was afraid he would come here if I didn’t answer his phone. I didn’t want to ever see his face ever again. Not even in another lifetime.

He called just to check-in on me. “Hello wife, how are you today? I’ve got your report from Dr. Raynes in my hand. Saying that you still try to kill your self there, a couple of days ago. Answer me, wife, is that true?” He started laughing and my tears started to fall, Laura was by my side in no time. Knowing I was still on the phone with Collin. Gesturing if I want the call to be cut off or not, I shook my head no to her. I was still afraid that he would visit me. At least I didn’t have to see his face when he was mocking me.

“Well? Can’t you speak anymore woman?”

“Yes, I did. I still want to.” My voice was just a whisper now. I was telling the truth. He was calling me and was still have a damaging effect on my mental state. He was laughing on the other side now. I could hear a woman on his line. The fuck?! She was clearly moaning his name.

I slowly slumped to the floor, Laura was trying to hold on to me but failed. Then I felt Brenton behind me, he was taking the phone and giving it to Laura. She ended his call, saying there was an emergency situation with his wife. Which made him laughed harder, I could even hear him. Laura hang up his phone and nodded to Brenton.

He took my hand and helped me stand up. “You want to go to your room or the garden?” He never asked why, it was like he already knew. He just asked, what I wanted to do next. It was like his way of saying to me, that I had to move on. He never asked the question of why and returned me to the memory of it.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Garden, with my book.” He nodded and got the book from Laura.

He let me sit on one end, while he was on the other end. He gave my book, and took a strand of my hair, and put it in behind my ear. Then he took off his jacket and put it over my shoulder.

Moments later he let me be in my own world, as I opened the pages of my book and started to read. I was feeling calm with a book in my hand, and his jacket on my shoulder as I took in his scent, and his body warmth that was left in it. I inhaled it and took it all in. Closing my eyes for a moment, then got back to my reading.

We sat there for more than an hour, I was reading my book, while he kept on sketching on his sketchbook on the other end of the bench.

I finally closed my book. “Babies, I couldn’t give him babies and be a good wife to Collin.” He nodded but didn’t ask further. As he stood up and asked me to follow him, back to his class.

We passed by Laura, he talked to her then put his hand on my back, and directed me to his class, and told me to sit on the stool in front of the canvas.

He took my book and put it aside. He grabbed several pots of paints, opened it, and put it beside me. He slowly took my hand, entwined my fingers with his. “I want you to close your eyes, Nicolette, I want you to visualize your strokes, your colors, the depth of your paint, composition, and put it in your canvas.” His deep voice pulled me in, relaxing my state of mind, as he dipped my finger in one of the pots.

“Open your eyes, Nicolette, now paint. I will be painting you from across.” He leaves me be, kissed my temple, and moved across to his stool, and started to paint. We stayed quiet for another two hours as we both painted.

I was actually enjoying this, I could feel myself smiling as I stroked my fingers on the canvas. It had been a long time since I painted with my fingers. All the blues and the whites, the depth of the colors, I felt it all. It was like I was taking it all in, opening up my heart, make it beat a little faster, as I stroked it wider on the canvas.

I started getting off my stool, feeling the energy. And started to paint standing up. Using both hands now, one for mixing the colors and holding the pots. My strokes were getting bolder as the color became more vibrant, and the shades got darker on the other edge of the canvas. My arms were full of color palettes, as I mixed them with a sudden blast of vision for my canvas.

I finally sit back down on my stool, breathing heavily as my canvas was full of strokes of colors. My hands and arms are covered in paints, and I was feeling so alive.

Brenton came to my side and looked at the painting and my state of bliss. He looked pleased with me. He stroked my hair and pulled me up, standing in front of him facing the canvas.

He took a thin brush, put it on my covered paint fingers, and dipped it in black paint and he whispered. “Sign the painting Nicolette, it’s yours. You made it beautifully, such as you are.”

I signed my painting and put the brush back on the table. Then he turned me to face him, as he cupped my face. He was looking at me, waiting for my approval. Then he put his lips on mine, softly but firm.

“Beautiful, lovely, sweet, Nicolette.” He said, in between kisses making me moaned, and he slipped his tongue kissing me deeper. Holding my head in place, until we were both breathless. He let me go, and I blushed crimson in his hands.