The Space Between Us

CHAPTER 6 - Fragments of Her

Clara

The gallery buzzed with quiet murmurs as people moved between the exhibits, their eyes scanning the art that lined the walls. Clara stood in front of a large canvas, her brow furrowed in concentration. The piece in front of her was different from the others—abstract and wild, the colors flowing together in a way that pulled her in.

Something about the painting made her heart beat a little faster, though she couldn't explain why. It was chaotic yet familiar, like a memory she couldn't quite place. She leaned in closer, studying the swirls of color that almost resembled a face. Her fingers brushed her cheek as she tried to understand what it was about this piece that connected with her so deeply.

Behind her, Isaac appeared silently, his eyes flicking to the painting. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew what Clara couldn't see—knew that this painting was of her, though Liam hadn't made it obvious. The subtle hints of her features, buried in the layers of abstract strokes, were clear to Isaac. And that unsettled him.

"Interesting piece, isn't it?" Isaac's voice broke Clara's concentration, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned to face him, blinking as if she had been pulled from a dream.

"Yeah, it's... there's something about it," she said softly, her eyes drifting back to the canvas. "I feel... connected to it. But I don't know why."

Isaac's smile widened, though there was a hint of something darker in his gaze. "Art has a way of reaching us in ways we don't always understand," he said smoothly. "Sometimes it speaks to something inside us—something we're not even aware of."

Clara nodded slowly, still staring at the painting. She wanted to ask more, to understand what the artist had been feeling when they created it. But before she could, Isaac placed a gentle hand on her arm, steering her away from the piece.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Isaac began, his voice soft and persuasive. "I'm hosting a private event this weekend. A few important people from the art world will be there—collectors, gallery owners. I'd love for you to come. It could be a great opportunity for you to meet the right people."

Clara hesitated. She had been overwhelmed with school and her projects, and the idea of attending a high-profile event made her nervous. But Isaac's offer was tempting. He had been nothing but supportive, encouraging her to push herself, and she couldn't deny the doors he had opened for her.

"I don't know... I'm not sure I'm ready for something like that," Clara admitted, biting her lip.

Isaac's eyes softened, his charm never faltering. "You're more than ready, Clara. Your work speaks for itself. You just need to trust in your talent. This event could be a stepping stone for your career."

His words washed over her, and Clara felt a flicker of doubt fade. Isaac believed in her—maybe even more than she believed in herself. She smiled, feeling the weight of her insecurities lift, if only for a moment.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll go."

Isaac's smile widened. "Good. You won't regret it."

Isaac's Event

The night of Isaac's event arrived, and Clara found herself standing outside a grand building, her heart pounding in her chest. She had dressed carefully, wanting to make a good impression, but now that she was here, she felt out of place. The crowd inside was already buzzing—wealthy patrons, gallery owners, and artists mingling over champagne and quiet conversations.