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The little dog was scheduled for a vet appointment in a few weeks for a checkup and shots. Gio insisted that he pay for it because she was the family dog. Mila didn’t argue, she wanted Babette to be taken care of more than she wanted to stand on principle and wait until she was able to pay for it herself.

“I should take her for a walk,” Mila said.

“I’ll do it,” Carter said. “You should go up and check on Gio. He should be done with his meetings by now.”

Mila still didn’t know what Gio did for a living, but it forced him to stay inside all day to be on hand for virtual meetings. She was concerned that Gio didn’t get enough sun, but he seemed healthy, so she didn’t say anything.

“I can walk with you, then check on Gio,” she said as Carter clipped the leash to Babette's collar.

Carter shook his head. “I’m sure Gio’s anxious to see you. Tell him to order my favorite pizza and another one of whatever you like.”

She nodded, and Carter slipped out the door with an excited Babette.

Gio wasn’t anywhere on the first or second floor. That left only one place left to look, the mysterious third floor. She knew Gio spent a lot of time up there, but she’d never been invited. No one forbade her, but it didn’t feel right to explore without permission.

Now that she was walking up the flight of stairs, it was almost as if she was in a historical movie about to discover her lover's deep dark secret.

“Right about now the floor should creak, warning him that I’m coming,” she murmured to herself with a chuckle. “Giving him time to hide his nefarious activities.”

“What nefarious activities?” Gio asked, appearing at the top of the stairs.

She cried out and missed a step. Somehow, Gio managed to get to her before she went tumbling backwards. He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way up.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t set her down at the top of the stairs but kept moving until he was in a giant room that must’ve taken up the entire third floor.

He sat down on a chair, his expression concerned. “Mila?”

“You paint!” she exclaimed, looking around the large room. There were several easels set up, but she could only see the painting on one of them. He must’ve just started because there wasn’t a lot of detail yet, but she thought it might be a person sitting on a bed. Except the person was surrounded by yellow light.

Gio looked puzzled. “You didn’t know?”

Mila turned her attention back to him. “How would I know? You and Carter never talked about it, and I’ve never been up here.”

He hugged her close. “I’m sorry I failed to show you all this. Carter isn’t into art and only likes my paintings because I did them. I’ve been so focused on trying to make you comfortable with us that I left you out of this.”

“Can I see everything now?” Mila asked.

“Of course!” Gio agreed with shy eagerness.

He set her on her feet, then stood. Taking her hand, he led her around the room to the easel furthest away. They circled around it until she could see what he’d created. It was Carter, sprawled out asleep with all his limbs stretched out like he did when he was by himself in bed.

The painting’s perspective was at the side of the bed, as if the painter was sitting at bed level. Carter’s head was turned to the side and every aspect of his face was rendered in loving detail.

“The style reminds me a little of Vermeer,” she said. “But different. Warmer and more inviting. As if Vermeer loved the people he painted instead of them just being models.”

Gio pulled in a deep breath. “I don’t think anyone has ever given me such a phenomenal compliment.”

“It’s the truth,” she said. She was going to say more but then noticed another painting leaning against a wall. It was of a woman wearing a 1920s style men’s suit. Her hair was in the finger-curl style common in that era. Her expression was what captured Mila’s attention. It wasn’t soft and gentle, like sleeping Carter. Instead, she looked hard and jaded.

“She looks so angry,” Mila breathed, then moved to the painting and pulled Gio behind her. “But she also looks determined. Like she’s seen the worst and suffered but refuses to give up.”

“That’s an accurate description of Coraline,” Gio murmured, his voice thick. She looked up to see him wiping away a tear. He must have had some paint on his hand because he left a dark, iridescent smudge under his eye.

“Did I say something wrong?” Mila asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Gio said. “I’ve never had anyone see my art. I mean really see it.”

Mila shook her head in disbelief. “How could they not see it? You do this so well, I can feel the texture of her coat even though I’m only looking at her.”