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Chad huffed. “I’ll pay you—”
“Nope.”
“Ally…”
“Chad…”
“I can’t.”
Chad ran his fingers over the canvas and traced Romeo’s brush strokes. There were bumps, rough bits, and smooth paint where he’d put it on thick. He’d blended the navy, white to make the oil slick night around the moons. Stars shone down on the embracing couple.
Ally’s smile faded as she watched him.
“I assumed you wanted to destroy it.”
“I don’t know why I wanted it. I just … didn’t want it in that shop.”
“It’s yours now,” Ally strode towards Chad’s car, and he followed, pulling his keys from his pocket.
“Nice painting.”
Chad jumped at Keeley’s voice.
She waved at them across the car park.
“Do you think so?” Ally shouted.
Keeley nodded. “It’s a lovely piece.”
“You’ll never guess who painted it.”
“Please don’t,” Chad growled under his breath. “She’s finally stopped asking about him.”
Keeley came closer. “Who?”
“Me.” Ally announced.
“You’re quite the artist.”
“Not going to psychoanalyze me over it?”
“Ally,” Chad hissed.
Ally propped the piece up on Chad’s car. “Knock yourself out.”
Keeley raised her eyebrow. “I’d say the color palette is very romantic, but there’s a sadness to the piece.”
“A sadness?” Chad asked.
“I’m not the artist, but that’s what I feel.”
“Explain.”
“It lingers around the edge, the manic swirls of yellows and greens, the blurring of focus, like the scene is being observed through a lens, glimpsed by someone else.” Keeley shrugged. “Was that the feeling you were going for?”
“No.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Keeley shot Chad a parting wink and went to her car.
