Fragments Of Us

Chapter 3

Milda didn't know how long she sat at the counter, staring at Josh's note. Her fingers traced the edges of the paper as if it held the answer to the question she hadn't yet formed. The words, simple as they were, echoed in her mind.

Art speaks when words can't.

What was he trying to tell her? More importantly, why did it feel like he was offering her something far more intimate than an invitation to appreciate his art? A part of her wanted to pretend it was nothing-a professional courtesy, perhaps-but she knew better. There was something more.

She grabbed the book, flipping through the pages again. Each painting seemed to call to her, the colors and strokes like pieces of a puzzle that only she could solve. Her breath hitched as she paused on one particular painting-one she hadn't really noticed when she visited the gallery. It was a portrait of a woman, her features blurred and indistinct, almost as if the artist hadn't meant to finish it. The woman's eyes, though, were vivid, sharp, staring out from the canvas with a depth of emotion that made Milda shiver.

Was that me?

The thought was absurd, but it stuck in her mind, burrowing deeper as she stared at the image. Josh hadn't seen her until after the gallery showing. He couldn't have painted her...could he?

Milda closed the book, setting it aside before her thoughts ran wild. She had to focus. She had work to do, deadlines to meet, and distractions like this would only cause chaos in her already busy schedule.

She grabbed her laptop and settled onto the couch, pulling up her latest project. It was a simple logo redesign for a local brand, the kind of job she could do with her eyes closed. Yet as she stared at the screen, her mind kept drifting back to Josh and the note.

The ping of her phone startled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw Lucas' name pop up again.

Lucas
Hey, how's your day? Haven't heard from you in a while.

Milda sighed. She had responded earlier, but her reply had been brief, not at all like her usual messages. Lucas probably sensed something was off, but she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Not with him.

She typed out a quick response:
Milda
Busy day, Hope you're doing okay.

It was the best she could manage without diving into a conversation she wasn't prepared to have. Lucas was part of her life-a big part-but lately, she felt like they were just going through the motions. Texts and calls had become routine, devoid of the excitement and connection they once shared. It was no one's fault, really. Long-distance relationships were hard, and life had a way of pulling people in different directions. Still, there was an emptiness that she couldn't ignore.

But now, with Josh entering her life in such an unexpected way, that emptiness felt even more pronounced.

Milda closed her laptop, knowing she wouldn't get any work done tonight. She needed fresh air, a way to clear her head. Grabbing her jacket, she headed for the door, determined to walk off the confusion and frustration that had settled in her chest.

As she stepped outside, the cool night air greeted her, sharp and refreshing. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and started walking down the quiet street, the rhythmic tap of her shoes on the pavement grounding her thoughts.

She didn't have a destination in mind, but somehow, her feet carried her toward the gallery. The streetlamps cast long shadows on the sidewalk, and the city buzzed softly in the distance. It was late enough that most places were closed, but she knew the gallery was nearby, tucked away in a corner of the city that always seemed to feel a bit removed from the rest of the world.

When she arrived, the building was dark, the large glass windows reflecting the empty street. She stood there for a moment, staring through the glass, as if hoping the paintings would still be there, waiting for her. But the gallery was locked, its treasures hidden away for the night.

Her mind drifted back to Josh. The way he had looked at her the day they met, the intensity in his eyes, like he could see through her-into her. She had never felt so vulnerable, yet so intrigued at the same time. What was it about him that made her question everything she thought she knew about herself?

She shook her head, trying to shake off the thoughts. This was ridiculous. She didn't even know him. But as much as she tried to convince herself that it was nothing, the truth was, she wanted to know him. She wanted to understand the connection she felt-whether it was real, or just something she had conjured up in her own mind.

Milda turned away from the gallery, heading back in the direction of her apartment. The walk hadn't cleared her head the way she had hoped. If anything, it made her more confused. But as she walked, her phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn't Lucas.

Josh
Did you get the book?

Her heart skipped a beat. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the message. How did he know? Was he waiting for her to respond? Should she even respond?

She typed, her fingers shaking slightly as she replied:
Milda
Yes. I wasn't expecting it, but thank you. Your work is...incredible.

She hit send before she could overthink it. Seconds later, his response came in.

Josh
I'm glad it reached you. I thought you might connect with some of the pieces. There's one in particular I think you'll find interesting.

Milda stared at the message, her mind racing back to the portrait of the woman. She wanted to ask him if that was the one he meant, if it was somehow connected to her, but she didn't have the courage.

Instead, she replied:
Milda
Which one?

There was a pause. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't respond, that maybe she had read too much into it. But then, his reply came:

Josh
The woman with the eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat. He knew.

Milda's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the message. She didn't know what to say, what to think. But one thing was clear, this was just the beginning.