C22 Chapter 22

I drove while Ará stared out from the window. From time to time, my eyes fell on her.

We didn't say anything in the car, unlike Mandy, Ará had always had this quiet and serene aura around her, if I was with Mandy, I would be laughing my chest out, but, nonetheless, I loved who I was with Ará.

I reached for her hand in the small darkeness and I held it, it was warm and soft, I squeezed it gently and she turned to me, her fine curvy lips turning into a small smile, I liked the way she looked then, I liked the way her hair fell like fine soft needles. I held the image in my head, long enough for it to make me smile.

We got down from the car, while she led me into her gallery, I didn't expect to see anybody, I thought it was going to be just her and me, but, what I saw was hundreds of people, dressed like pretty flowers, blooming under the sun.

The gallery was white, and spacious, if there was anything to the looks of the building, it was white and spacious.

There were paintings on the walls, paintings that people were reviewing and giving small nods and acknowledgements that sounded like the small tired yawns of school children.

I stood in front of a painting, it was fairly large, it caught my attention in the strictest way, I couldn't pull my attention from it, in seconds it was only I and the painting and the whole world had disappeared, and Ará had disappeared with the rest of the world but her creation was live with me.

In the painting there was a young boy, about sixteen, sitting on a river bank, in the midst of hard green trees creating shelter from the sun, but it looked like it was of no more use since the sun was already setting, far east, it's light shinning down, staining things, turned the river golden, in the river, was a young girl, she was bent and nude, she seemed to be Washing her charcoal black hair in the golden water, Deja Vu struck me.

She had recreated a scene of many years ago, the memory played in my head subtly, and it gave me a wishful feeling, like trying to remember a dream.

Then, I remembered the world and I remembered Ará, the real one, not the one in the painting and I turned to her. Both of them were sensual I'm every way.

Her head was bent to the side and she smiled wittily.

“Do you like it?." I turned back to the painting and considered it because I hadn't registered my feelings already.

“Yes, I do,"

“Good. I hoped you would."

“Are there others like this?."

“They are, but, they're in my head on not on a canvas."

“How can you recreate a scene so much, we only visited this river twice."

“Because I'm an artist and I have an artist's eye, I capture every detail."

I saw the other paintings, they were beautiful, but I had gone back to buy that one, I couldn't explain in words how much I loved the painting.

Our drive home was more quiet than our first drive to her gallery, the air was filled with a sort of melancholy.

We drove past a big billboard that I barely took notice of when Ará said that she had always wanted to be a ballerina.

“Then what happened?." I asked her.

“I grew up." She said and fell back into the silence.

I walked her to her door and I brushed her fingers with my lips, it was as if I couldn't do more than that, as if I couldn't further give her pleasure.

I carried the painting upstairs, and I hung it in my room, after then, it sort of resembled something my mother would do for decoration, hang a piece of art for decor but that wasn't what I was doing, I was hanging it to preserve a memory before it would be lost in time.

I had turned on the news and I was surprised to see Hensley on the screen, it was as if I didn't recognize who he was at first, what Mark had said was true, although mark had never been someone to lie, I had sort of laughed a little about his words, but they were true, Hensley had grown a little fatter.

He had been sworn in as the CEO and he was already taking the company to great heights, the caption read.

Good for them.

I wondered how Mark would be now.

Then an image of Mark, his belly was bulging and his neck had lost itself to fat, sitting on a sofa, eating pizza, wearing a stained T shirt that read “Hungry for more".

I couldn't help but laugh.

My mood had gotten lighter, it was as if I had rid myself of any strong emotion I had carried from viewing paintings.

I made myself some meatloaves and eventually, I slept off.

The next morning, I took my bath and I went to work, my company carried that same aura, of competence.

I was drafting an email to send to Edison when I heard a knock on my door.

I looked up to see a very familiar face.

“Hi, Good afternoon." He said and walked majestically into my office, there was something about some people, the fact that they carried some kind of majesty, you might say looks or money but still you would be made to believe that their majesty would survive without those two factors.

" Good afternoon. “ I told him. But, I wasn't one to envy someone, I myself carried a superior aura, something I had picked up while growing up.

He stretched his hand for a hand shake and I took it, he had a strong grip, I acknowledged that and I let go of his hand.

" I think I've seen you somewhere. “ He told me.

" Okay. “ I simply replied.

" Wait, wasn't it you with the cool car at the hotel, I met you in Detroit, do you remember?. “

Adrian. The memories came rushing down, My chest felt tight, then, I remembered Melissa.

“What a small world."

“Indeed it is, I actually came to speak business with you, I didn't know I would find you behind the desk."

I looked at my desk, I scrutinized it, I had a very impressive desk, it was made of glass and it was more orderly than any desk I had ever seen.

“Please, have a seat."

“Thank you."