The Broken Vow

8

Author's note: Thank you for your love on the last chapter!! Going forward, this story will be updated every Saturday. This way readers will have enough time to catch up on the story between updates.

Aahana Agnihotri

Everyone had their favorite scent, and for me, it was always the smell of fresh paint.

I grabbed my hair and pulled it into a loose bun on top of my head so it wouldn't get in the way.

Taking a deep breath, I got to work. I dipped my brush into the cerulean blue and swirled it around till I had just the right amount of pigment. The soft bristles of the brush bent as I made the first stroke on the canvas.

My favorite thing about the painting  process was enjoying creating something from scratch.

I was working on a landscape piece, but it wasn't for me—it was for a renowned artist. I was a ghost artist for several well-known names. Without a signature style of my own, and with most of my work kept for exclusive paterons, I remained mostly anonymous in the art world.

Sometimes I wondered why I couldn't just gather the courage and show my work to the entire world. I definitely had the talent. Even the gallery I owned showcased "other artists"' work and not mine. The thoughts of recognition and the possibility of true success would keep me up sometimes. However, imposter syndrome and fear would quickly silence those dreams. I just couldn't bring myself to step into the limelight.

So, I settled with this arrangement. A woman approached me a few years ago while I was in London. We got talking and she gave me an offer for creating a piece for another artist and after that she continued bringing in work for me. She was my pseudo agent. I hid this life from everyone else, especially my parents. This way I could hide under the veil of anonymity while making my own money.

Once I had laid down the base, I wondered what I should do next. The artist had given me a free reign on this project. I bit my lip in contemplation before picking up which color I wanted next. Soon, it was just me and my little world that I was creating.

By the time I was finished, I had been at it for more than seven hours. I stared at the canvas in front of me. It looked just as breathtaking as it did in my dream.

I had dreamt of this place the night I had slept with Adarsh.

The lingering memory of that night hadn't completely been erased like I hoped it would. Definitely don't know what I was thinking. It was a monumental mistake, but I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Perhaps because it was the best sex of my life.

Like a total idiot I had practically run to my room after her had so boldly challenged me. My hands trembled as I stripped off my clothes and headed straight for the shower. The scalding water cascaded over my flushed skin.

It had become a ritual for me after fucking anyone– a way to wash away all traces of that person from my body. I couldn't remember when this compulsion had evolved into a habit.

I laid in bed after that, tossing and turning till sleep finally caught up to me.

In my sleep, I saw us on a hill. Just like the one I had painted. The blades of grass were short yet lush. Rain poured down. It wasn't the angry kind that accompanied the dark gray clouds, but this one was soft and calming. I spotted a rainbow somewhere in the horizon which I had added on my canvas.

What I hadn't added was me and Adarsh. In my dream, I wore a flowy white dress while he donned an all black outfit. I walked to him, my stomach clenching and my heart beating in anticipation. I swore I felt the wet grass tickle my bare feet with each step.