Page 74 of For the Love of Art

“When we have sex, I want it to be about us. Not anger at Don.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head.

“I’m not–”

“I know you think that,” he interrupted. “But you’re mad at him, and fucking me would be a great way to say, ‘fuck you’ to him.”

“Nathan–”

“I need to be more than a night to forget about your ex-husband,” Nathan said firmly.

I nodded. “I understand.”

He squeezed my arm.

“I can wait. Have a good night, Isla.”

He left the room, and a tear slipped down my cheek. For the first time, it wasn’t a tear because Don had left me.

The next morning, I awoke to streams of sun running across me. I rubbed my eyes as I sat up on the large mattress. I looked at the spot next to me that felt extra empty, knowing Nathan should be there.

I hugged my knees to my chest, remembering last night. Nathan told me he hadn’t been with another woman since we met. I wasn’t expecting that, but I welcomed the knowledge. It felt… good.

I looked at my phone to see a text from Nathan telling me to meet him downstairs at eight-thirty. It was already almost eight. I sighed as I threw my legs over the side of the bed and busied myself, getting ready for the day.

I felt nervous as I went down to the lobby. Nathan sat on one of the wingback chairs dressed in his usual suit with his typical business expression. He stood when he saw me, buttoning his suit jacket as he did.

“Good morning, Isla,” he said. “You look nice.”

I looked at my sheath dress. “Thank you.”

We got into the same car with the same driver and went down to a convention center along the wharf. Inside was a flurry of activity. Normally, I would feel excited to be immersed in this world that I loved, but it just felt noisy and constricting.

It seemed everyone knew Nathan, but that wasn’t surprising. He was one of the biggest names in art dealing. I stood beside him as he navigated artists and some swooning women who didn’t seem to care who I was and why I was there with him.

We walked along looking at various displays. Well, he did. I pretended to look, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to take anything in.

“Do you see anything?” Nathan asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Oh, uh–” I looked around, trying to think of something smart to say.

“You’re not really here, are you?” Nathan’s eyes searched my face.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

Nathan took a deep breath. “You know, I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

I wasn’t, but I was willing to pretend if it meant we could get out of here for a bit.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m hungry.”

“Come on. There’s a great little place I go every year,” he said with a smile.

We walked a couple blocks to a hot dog cart. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Feels like home, right?” he asked with a large grin.

“Yeah. Exactly like home.”

Nathan pulled out his wallet. “Two hot dogs with everything.”