In case there came a day when the memories started to fade around the edges, I would have the pictures to look back on.
“What has that intense look on your face?” Blair asked as she reached for her coffee.
Her plate in front of her was a soupy mess of syrup and a few swimming blueberries. She’d finished off the last of the stack after declaring a few moments before that she was going to burst.
“I was just thinking about art,” I admitted.
“What about art?”
“I guess I just never considered before that each canvas is a moment frozen in time. I know that most of them were likely done over weeks of posing. But still. It captured a moment that would never happen again in the exact same way. And there’s something really poignant, but sad, about that.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, eyes going all gooey.
“What is your favorite piece?”
“Of all time?” she asked, looking panicked.
“What comes to mind first?”
“The Loversby Émile Friant. Have you ever seen it?”
“No.”
“It’s a man and a woman stopping on a bridge to, it seems, admire the landscape, but they are caught up in each other instead.”
“Why that one?”
“I don’t know. I think… it’s the simplicity of it. How it shows so much intimacy and vulnerability with just a shared look. There’s something… delicate about it. Like love, I guess.”
“New love, maybe,” I said, watching that vulnerability overtake her features again.
“Hm?”
“New love is delicate. Real love is… resilient. It’s built on something strong enough to help it weather the inevitable storms.”
Her gaze cut away at that, staring out the window at the rain clouds chasing away the morning sunshine.
“I guess I’ve never had love like that,” she said, seeming to speak to herself.
“You’ve neverreceivedlove like that,” I clarified. “I think we both know you gave it.”
She was silent for a moment. Then, in a barely-there voice, she asked, “Can I confess something awful?”
“Sure, but I doubt it’s as awful as you think.”
“It is.” There was another long pause as she fought with herself, sucking in, then releasing a deep breath. “I don’t think I loved Matthew. Not the way you should love your spouse, anyway. I… I think I was infatuated at the beginning. So much so that I mistook it for love. But it couldn’t have been love. I barely knew him. And then, I don’t know. I think it was… commitment and dedication, not love. I was all in, you know? And if he was even halfway in, I think I would have let that be enough forever.”
“You deserve more than to settle for halfway.”
She gave me a sad smile before rising to her feet and grabbing our plates. “So are we heading to the storage unit after walking Goya?” she asked, seeming glad to have her back to me as she ran hot water to melt the sticky syrup.
“Yeah. I don’t want to waste any time if the laptop or tablet is in there. Or any other copies of this information. The sooner we get our hands on everything, the better. I’m going to have Gavino come with us.”
“Are you worried it’s going to be dangerous?” she asked, tensing as she turned.
Maybe.
“No. I think it will be good to have an extra set of eyes and hands. Plus, he will drive us.”
