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“We are”—I sigh—“but he’s gone before I wake up, and by the time he returns, it’s so late I’ve fallen asleep.” Damn, my woes seem so insignificant compared to what Karma’s family is going through. It makes me want to see my husband and be with him, and have him cuddle me and hold me even more. I hunch my shoulders. ”I guess, I miss my husband. But I’m allowed, aren’t I?”
Zoey’s eyes round. “Wow, are you in love with him?”
“More like in lust,” I mutter under my breath. Gah, did I say that aloud? My cheeks redden, and I toss my hair over my shoulders. “So, what's going on with you, anyway?”
She accepts my change of subject. "I come bearing huge news. Huge.” Her lips curve in a big smile. ”Remember my friend, the gallery owner in Soho who I sent the pictures of your paintings to?”
I nod.
“She loves them. She wants to do a showing in four weeks.”
For a second, I’m not sure I heard her correctly. Then I register what she's saying, and my heart jumps into my throat. “Wait, what?” I splutter. “What did you say?”
“You heard that right, babe,” she says with satisfaction. “She wants to do a showing of your paintings.”
My pulse rate spikes. A fierce burst of joy crowds my ribcage. “She wants to do a showing?”
Zoey nods madly.
“Of my paintings?”
“No, of mine,” she deadpans. “Of course, your paintings, dummy. I showed her the pictures of your paintings I took on my phone, and she loved them. Turns out, one of her other artists can’t make it, so his slot is yours.”
Goosebumps pop on my skin. Excitement floods my veins. “Oh my God, oh my God, this is unbelievable!” This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. Something not even money can buy. A chance to prove myself. This is what I hoped, and secretly prayed for, for so long. Then it sinks in. I wipe the smile off my face. “Did you say within four weeks?”
She nods. “Twenty-eight days.”
"Jesus, that’s very little time.” I knit my eyebrows, and her face falls.
"Is it too little time to get a few more paintings ready? You had a good number in the flat the other day that I saw…”
I nod slowly. “I have about twenty, I think.”
“She needs at least twenty-five,” Zoey adds.
“Twenty-five?” I gasp. “So, I have to create another five?”
“You said you can create entire paintings overnight.”
I laugh. “That was one painting. An outlier. It’s never like that, normally.”
“You did it once; you can do it again,” she says with a confidence I don’t feel.
“Can I?” I hunch my shoulders.
“Of course, you can.”
“I... I’m not sure…” I begin to pace the floor of the living room.
“But you have to try, right? Didn’t you say you’ve been wondering what to do with yourself while your husband is busy at work?”
I pause, struck by her words. She’s right. I’ve been moping around the house when I could have been painting. For some reason, I hadn’t even thought about it. How strange. I’ve been wanting the mind space to paint, and now, when I have it, I’m not using the time wisely? And if I missed out on this opportunity, would I ever forgive myself?
“What do you say, can you do it?” Zoey pushes her glasses up her nose. “Or should I tell her?—”
“I’ll do it.” I nod. “Tell her I’ll do it.”
Perhaps, it’s the relief of not having to earn a daily wage, or maybe, it’s the knowledge that I'm married, beginning to sink in. Or maybe, a part of me has been unlocked by Q’s dominance. Or maybe, it’s Karma’s sudden death that shifted something inside me. Maybe, it’s that I subconsciously feel my husband pulling away and I can’t understand why. More likely, it’s a combination of these factors, along with the deadline that Zoey’s gallery owner friend imposed on me, but when I sign the contract, she sent me, a familiar excitement grips me.
