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I don’t know how to fight his past when he won’t let me in. His parents, his sister, and his ex all made him believe he’s nothing. I need him to believeme.
That despite the odds, I fell in love with a loud, outgoing, broken man and I will never get over him.
I have to figure out a way to fight for us.
My thoughts of Alec try to will the fantasy of my future with him to life. I think there are books written about willing your desired future into existence with positive thoughts. It doesn’t matter; I’m not delusional. I guess if I’m going to be heartbroken, I might as well break everything at once.
My chest loosens as soon as I’m at the farm. My father has kept the property in our family, and I keep Hans employed to run it for us. It’s a small working farm with wheat, sheep, and goats. No one will look for me here.
Hans greets me with a hearty hug and questions in his eyes.
Being on the farm with acres and acres of fresh air and solitude has been good for me. The sheep and goats don’t care about fame or fortune, and they certainly don’t judge me. And they don’t mind when I sulk over Alec.
But today is my art show. Madyson has convinced me to video conference in. It’s going to be awkward to do my least favorite part of being an artist over video. Madyson assures me it will be a quick interaction to thank everyone for coming and answer questions. She says it's invaluable to connect a face with a name to sell more art. I want the show to be successful despite my heart not being in it.
I updated my old workshop to a working art studio. Hans ordered my equipment, so I don’t have to go into town or ship items with my name.
I set up a laptop in my art space to give the illusion of productivity and working on more sculptures. It feels wrong to promote myself as an artist when I have no creativity. The last slump Alec pulled me out of, I had a burst of ideas. Some are still yet to be produced, but I can’t bring myself to sculpt. I pretend not to have the necessary materials and tools. But in reality, I’m afraid.
Alec’s refusal to speak to me has magnified my every doubt. I’m a failure as a brother, friend, son and lover, so I cannot create art that speaks of the human experience and moves people.
Time is ticking and I force myself to click on the link to connect me with The Artistic Edge. While the screen is black, I remove the band and let my hair down. It’s a safety net to hide, which is the opposite of what Madyson wants. But I have this sudden need to protect myself.
Madyson’s stern face greets me but then a wide grin takes over her face.
“Von, so good to see you! We’re filled to capacity.” She sweeps her arm to show a crowd of people in the camera’s view. The festive Christmas decorations hollow out my insides, knowing I won’t spend the day with Alec.
I don’t realize I hoped Alec would be there until I don’t see him. The last spark of hope dies, and my face freezes in a plastic smile. I nod my head but can’t make my voice work. The crowd is nondescript, but I notice Lars’s white-blond head towering over people in the back. A friend I’ve been able to count on for over two decades.
“Hej hej,” I say and catch myself. “Hello, thank you for coming.” I can see myself in the corner square of the video chat and force my face to relax.
Madyson speaks quickly, summing up my background and the techniques I used to create the unique pieces of art. She’s uncharacteristically nervous. After barely taking a breath, she says, “Anything you want to say, Von?”
I wrote a note card of thanks and recite it, trying not to sound robotic. When I’ve finished, Madyson is saying goodbye, but I interrupt.
“Are we doing the questions and answer section on video or in a chat?” If she forgot, I’m an idiot for bringing it up. I could be back at the farmhouse making an evening decaf coffee.
Madyson lets out a hysterical giggle. “We’ll do it in the chat.”
But a young guy appearing to be an art student steps up beside her and says, “I’d love to know what inspired the statue of entwined men. It’s your best piece.”
Madyson turns gray, and she leans in to disconnect. When I bellow her name, she’s wide-eyed and guilty.
Behind her, I see part of the statue I made for Alec. I rear up in horror with a howl but realize the camera is on my crotch and plummet back into the chair.
“That is not for sale,” I holler, gutted. My insides spilling out on display. She didn’t know that piece existed. Alec gave it to her. I didn’t think my heart could hurt worse, but all the previously shattered pieces blow up inside me.
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to rein in the emotions on display for everyone. “That piece is not for sale today or ever. It shouldn’t be in the show.”
“It has multiple high offers.” Madyson cringes.
“I would ratherneversell another piece of art than sell that one.” I keep my voice low, but it breaks at the end. “Lars,” I say louder. He pushes through the crowd, and I ask him to help me in Swedish so no one else can understand me.
He gathers the statue in his arms and I disconnect.
Not only is Alec not interested in seeing me, he put my love for him up for sale.
Chapter thirty-seven