Hung (Under Revision)

28: Believe Me

Liam

Skye hasn't blinked since Rick first spoke. She looks like she's in shock. I move to her side and put my arm around her.

"Thanks for bringing your painting down. Come with me." I turn to Rick, "Rick, you don't mind if we use your office, do you?"

I don't wait for Rick's response and guide Skye away.

When I walked into the lobby and saw Skye standing there, my chest tightened. She sought me out. She fucking tracked me down and that thought alone lessens the weight that's been pressing down on my shoulders.

I hope she doesn't see me here in a suit and on business and think I've pushed her behind me. I needed a distraction, is all. A distraction from the way she slammed the door on my face.

The door to Rick's office is propped open. We enter the room and I push the door shut behind us.

We've only been open a couple of weeks, and his office glistens with brand spanking newness. It even smells new. A desk is along one wall, and a small, circular meeting table and chairs is in the corner.

Skye still hasn't spoken. I take the painting from her and set it on the table.

It's different from her other stuff, there's no picture, just abstract blotches of paint. But it's intriguing.

I stare down at it, turning it in a clockwise motion, trying to figure out which way is up. The colors are subdued - there's nothing bright or cheery about it.

Her eyes are wide and her lips slightly parted. She's examining me as I examine the painting. I don't know what to make of it, other than that the longer I stare at it, the more my mood sinks.

I shift my gaze to her. When our eyes catch, a lump instantly forms in my throat. I swallow to try to clear it. Her eyes betray a hundred emotions brewing inside her.

Neither of us speaks. I lift my hand, hoping to find her cheek but instead settling on grasping her hand. My insides wrench, it feels like this is my chance, my one shot, at getting her back. There's so much at stake, I can't fuck this up.

"This is great, thanks for bringing it. It's different from your other stuff, but it's just as powerful. Maybe even more so."

"I wanted you to see how you made me feel." Skye's voice is sharp, with much more confidence than I'd anticipated given how vulnerable she's seemed since I found her in the lobby.

"Yeah, I'm kinda feeling that way myself."

"Angry?"

"Frustrated. Anger at myself."

"At least I'm not the only one who's angry at you."

"Anger at myself for not being able to explain things better. For upsetting you. Believe me when I say the last thing I would ever want is for you to be hurt."

"Then why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you make me lose my job and not even care? Twice!" The volume of her voice increases.

"It wasn't intentional." I squeeze her hand tighter, trying to hold onto her.

"Why are my paintings hanging in the lobby?"

"Because I like them, they're perfect for our needs."

Skye squeezes her eyes shut. "But why didn't you tell me you bought them and were using them for your hotel?"

"Because it would've pissed you off. And trust me, I never wanted to piss you off, even though I managed to anyway."

"You really like them?"