“You’ve seen all the paintings hanging up at Stefan’s place, right?”
I nodded. They’d been one of the first things that stood out to me about the condo. “Yeah. They’re great. A little dark, but gorgeous.”
I remembered angular swaths of shadow and light, bent figures, light spilling from windows, hands and trees and churning skies in thick impasto, like Van Gogh.
Emzee smiled. “Those are all our mother’s.”
My heart felt like it was cracking. “Your mom painted all of those?”
She nodded. “Stefan’s always surrounded himself with them. Even when he was away at college. I have a bunch too, but I keep them in storage. It makes sad to see them. I hate that I don’t remember her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I lost my mother when I was young, too.”
“I know,” Emzee said. “That’s why I told you about Stefan. I thought you’d get it.”
“I do.”
Emzee smiled, but it was a little less mischievous this time. “Your turn. Tell me something you haven’t told anybody else.”
I chewed my lip for a moment. “Okay. I’m glad I got married, for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that…I’m glad to be away from my dad. I mean he’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve always been like a pet to him. And he had so many rules for me growing up, it’s just…really nice to be out on my own, doing my own thing, without him running my life.”
For a second Emzee was quiet, and I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing.
Then, in the ghost of a whisper, she said, “I know exactly what you mean. Moving out on my own when I turned eighteen was the best thing I ever did. So liberating.”
We shared a smile.
For the rest of the flight, I helped Emzee go over the proofs of her photos, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Stefan and those paintings. Whether he could admit it or not, losing his mother at a young age had scarred him, had made him feel completely powerless. And he’d reacted in the only way that made sense—by trying to control everything else around him. Even me. So maybe the reason he’d acted so cruel all those times wasn’t because he wanted to hurt me. But because somewhere, deep down, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me, too.
