Page 1 of For the Love of Art

CHAPTER

ONE

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My eyes fluttered open to the irritating sound.

The room was blurry. I reached across the bed, but it was cold. The shock caused my eyes to open completely. No one was beside me.

I rubbed the side of my mouth where some drool had escaped. My eyes scanned across a myriad of pictures spread across my white sheet before looking up at the dimly lit apartment. The reality of my situation hit again. My husband of ten years left me.

I picked up one of the photos, my caramel eyes smiling back at me. My cheek is pressed against the freckled shoulder of the man I promised to spend the rest of my life with. His copper hair shone in the natural light, his lips lovingly pressed to my forehead. The sun was setting on the scenic beach behind us, painting the sky in beautiful oranges and pinks.

A cold draft blew across the bed. Looking out the small window, I could see that it was another miserable, rainy night in New York. I crumpled the photo and shoved it into a small hole in the brick.

“What a dump,” I muttered to myself as I pulled my knees to my chest.

I rested my cheek on my knee and peered down at the photos again. Right on top was a large portrait of me with my white wedding dress pooled around me. I looked up at the camera, a wide naive grin on my face and pink flowers in my hands. A tear slipped down my cheek. I turned my head so my chin was resting on my knees. An empty brick wall with a John Cage painting leaning against it greeted me. It was the only thing I wanted from our marriage; a wedding gift from my late father. I had yet to hang it. I had yet to decorate this apartment in any way. To do so would mean that this arrangement was permanent. Even though logically I knew it was, I wasn’t ready to face it.

I lay back down, closing my eyes, willing my life to change.

“You’re late, Isla!” Frankie’s shrill voice reverberated off the walls of the small cheese shop.

I rolled my eyes at him. “By two minutes.”

I walked behind the counter, grabbing one of the shop’s embroidered black aprons off the hook.

“Still,” Frankie said as I approached him, tying the apron around my faded jeans, “I could fire you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, really?”

Frankie crossed his arms and met my glare but quickly backed down.

“Damn it, fine. You’re right. I love you too much.”

He ran his fingers through his pastel blue hair while I slipped past him with a triumphant smile. I opened the cheese cooler door to prepare the daily samples.

Frankie huffed, “I’m going to the office to start putting together the Christmas order.”

“It’s July.”

“Oh my God. Do you know nothing about cheese?”

“Um—” I pressed my lips together.

Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is why I own the cheese shop, and you are the worker. You don’t understand what this business takes.”

“And if all goes according to plan, I’ll never know.”

Frankie sighed as he walked away. I let out a small chuckle as I turned my attention back to the cheese.

“When Lianne gets here, tell her she’s in deep shit with me,” Frankie called over his shoulder.

“Good luck with that!” I called back.

Once Frankie was tucked in his office, I enjoyed the quiet of the shop. There was never much time before the–

Ring!