Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

“The gallery was supposed to be our future. Nicole spent months planning the lighting track and the pine floors, and we were already forty thousand in debt before the first painting was hung.”

“You may keep your freedom, Julian, but you will not have my home,” I said, my voice remaining entirely level.

“It is just a house,” he whispered, his eyes still continue reading …