Page 31 of Portrait of A Lost Artist

VERONICA

“Stranger, that’s all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be.” - A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be by Jess Benko.

I AM NOT GOOD AT LOVE . It was while concealed from the cameras that relentlessly track Nathan’s every move in the depths of Aseré that I noticed this.

Adam has his nose pressed to Olivia’s cheek, smiling against the puffiness of the skin before planting a chaste kiss on it.

She whispers something to him about wanting to continue watching the show that is displayed on the TV, but she does it with so much gentleness, matching the smile on her face, that I almost feel like a green ogre of envy grows on the pit of my soul.

Here I am, broken again. Only months after the last time—so stupid—and even after Nathan and I had that big cry yesterday, the pain is still there.

Resentment still doesn’t grow within me, but I look at his pictures online with more intent than necessary.

I study the articles written about him, both saddened and miserable by what I read.

From scandals to rehabilitation stays, Nathan’s fame had come to him so easily that it has become tough for him to get rid of it along the way.

His lips almost swayed me, but I knew he was wrong.

His lies, even amidst some truth, can’t undo the damage.

Tears welled up without me noticing, until Adam approached, his rough thumb brushing my cheek with a worried expression.

We were so young, and I used to think my brother’s presence would always make me feel like a shadow.

But I learned he loved me. And even as we’ve grown older, Adam’s care has been constant.

“I will never forgive that asshole for what he did to you,” Adam argues; the long strands of his hair—now stared at from up-close—showing glimpses of a few gray hairs.

When had time passed so quickly, and when had I forgotten that I could find some reassurance in my brother’s arms?

“God, stop crying. I don’t know what to do when you cry.

I think I’ve never seen you like this since you were a kid—”

I must have hidden rather well. I haven’t been happy in a while. With me, and the way I grew. The job that I have, that I am not entirely content with. Those men I’ve loved who’ve deeply hurt me in the process. The forest rakes in flames, and I have yet to find the way out.

“I will be okay.” I manage to tell him, but the instant the words leave my mouth, my lips tremble and tighten, a sob threatening to break free.

That has Adam widening his eyes, uniting our legs when pulling his chair closer to mine.

“...Or not. Fuck, Adam, when will happiness find me? I’ve been right behind it my whole life and just when I think I can reach it, it slips my fingers once again. ”

“I—I—” My brother stammers, placing his hands on my cheeks and staring at me as if he’s in awe.

I have finally lost it; that grip that I had on life wishing that it would go the way I wanted, but if the North of my life wants to go the other way, who am I to stop it? “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Of course, you don’t.” I tell him. “You’ve found success, love, Mom’s support.

..it has always been so easy for you and I feel horrible because I envy you.

” I press my cheek to his chest, cue for him to hug me with all the strength he can muster.

Despite not acting like an older brother recently, Adam naturally assumes the part, holding me close and pressing his chin to my hair.

“I want to be you so bad, Adam, but I can’t. ..”

“You don’t have to be me.” Adam whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to my head. “I know you haven’t had it easy, but your happiness is just as reachable as mine. Maybe if you stop looking for other people’s approval while venturing down your path, it will all fall into place.”

“But—”

“I don’t think happiness is in that man, though. Nathan isn’t the sole reason you can be happy.”

No, he isn’t. I recollect this thought and internalize it.

I could be happy without Nathan in my life, but it’s also rather strange that there is someone else in this world that I could love with the same strength, if not more, than I did with Lorenzo.

To build a home with him sounded inviting, in a small, intricate house in Havana.

To paint his back with the trace of my fingertips, and kiss all the scars that he never let me see in their full light.

Nathan was dating someone else, but in the depths of me, I like to believe his heart was mine for a bit.

I look up at him, rubbing at my eye and possibly drenching the bits of makeup Alessia had put on me.

I haven’t even been active enough to take a shower ever since the incident happened.

So, as the good friend she is, she pushed me into the bathtub, washed my hair, and got me ready for the day.

As if I couldn’t move, which felt like it at this point.

“I’m not saying he is, but it would have been beautiful, don’t you think?” I whisper. “A new start. A new man. A new chance. No one had ever liked me for who I am...and...and he made me think there was more to me than the lines I had drawn around me to stop me from crossing them.”

“It will come. The right person or the right time, we never know, but your story doesn’t end here.”

“My reputation—”

“The people outside looking to get a picture of you will forget about you along the way. You’re not a celebrity. If you disconnect from the narrative, you will only be another mishap in his way.”

I don’t want to be that for him, but if that’s what I can settle for, there is nothing else I can do.

His fingers, light and sure, trace my back, followed by a tender kiss on my head.

I remain close, drawing strength from the warmth of his chest. It’s remarkable that Adam has learned this way of healing, a skill I thought belonged to Dad, for the wounds in my heart that weren’t of his making.

Though a part of me still feels a twinge at his apparent perfection, my love for him finds solace in his happiness, even when mine feels distant.

Time passes like sand in between slots of fingertips; unsure whether minutes or hours had passed by, my heart halts when hearing the doors opening, only to close in a hassle.

When I turn around, pulling away from Adam’s hold, I notice my mother standing by the door.

Her hair is unkempt, probably from going through the masses of paparazzi outside, and Dad is sheltering the door before locking it in its entirety.

The face mirroring Mom’s brings back the stark memory of telling her I wanted to pursue art.

Her silent disapproval lasted for months, only ceasing when I offered to go to engineering school.

While I appreciated the distance during my time in the States, I can’t escape this now.

Something in her gaze screams that even though she didn’t anticipate much from me, I still managed to shatter the pillars on which she built her family.

“You,” she spits, as if I am not her daughter.

When she gets closer, I am almost fearful.

Never had she looked at me with this strength, and Dad follows her, though I don’t inspect him closer to check if he’s on my side or not.

“I just had to hear from everyone but my daughter that she was going around and about with the dopehead, good-for-nothing asshole that worked here, and the things I’ve heard about him are even less pleasing. ”

“Mom—” I stand up, but Mom shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

“I—I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but he’s working on it. He said they would leave me alone.”

“For the love of God, Veronica, listen to yourself!” Her voice rises sharply, her eyebrows climbing her forehead.

A palpable hatred fuels her grip on my arm, and she shakes me with the force of her angry words.

“I didn’t expect much from you, but this shit will only bring a poor reputation to our family and our business.

I had to hear from everyone how big of a whore you are, sleeping around with a man that may have money but won’t pay shit for a night with you! ”

“Esperanza, don’t talk to her like that,” Dad interrupts, walking ahead until he is between us, within my reach and hers.

“She never thinks! That’s the problem. She’s twenty-seven already. I shouldn’t have to worry about you not getting married or ruining our reputation. What will that man of yours do when the sales drop because of all of this?”

“I will take care of it.” My jaw squares, chin recoiled tightly, hoping that it doesn’t shake in fear of more tears threatening to appear within my eyesight. I won’t let her see me broken because of her words, thrown as arrows to destroy me. “Every penny that you lose, I will pay.”

“Oh, look, her boy-toy will help her with the business.” Mom adds sarcastically, scoffing strongly.

“Love, I already said—” Dad’s voice always goes ignored by her, and she speaks over him.

“You don’t even have the decency to tell me the rumors are wrong. You had it all with Lorenzo and left him because of a slip-up, and here you are. You don’t know how many women that man has slept with, all the diseases he could have given you just because you wanted some dollars thrown your way—”

“Mom!” With a firm voice, Adam threatens, but I just shake my head at what she’s saying.

“All I’ve done is shape myself to your will and you still don’t know the slightest bit about me.” I mumble. “Am I even your daughter anymore?”

“I don’t know. Am I even your mom if you don’t respect the ground that I raised you on?

” As if my heart couldn’t be torn open with greater force, I hear those words and understand my error.

I’m not her daughter, but a plagiarized piece of Adam’s line-art, the shadow she tried to force into my frame.

I grab the purse I carried around and swing it onto my shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Send me the bills that I have to pay to my address.”

“I asked you a question—”

“ Mija , stay here.” Dad tries to reason, interrupting Mom’s words, but I shake my head as I move towards the entrance door.

“I’ve tried to be a wonderful daughter, but if our relationship is so fragile that a minor problem destroys it, I don’t want to try anymore.

” I shrug at her words, feigning indifference.My life can’t stay like this, and though leaving her causes me pain because she was my initial anchor, I’m done fighting for something that has no future.

“If being your daughter means not being true to myself, then we better leave it like this.”

“How dare you—? Veronica, you go past that door and I will vow to never talk to you ever again!” Mom shouts behind my back and just when I reach the door, I hear a plate crashing on the side of the wall.

Shattered pieces scatter across the floor, but I still abstain myself from repairing what she broke. She destroyed me first, after all.

The cameras begin their assault of flashes as I leave the restaurant, but despite the overwhelming urge to cry, I won’t give them that spectacle. Instead, I raise a defiant hand, obscuring my face from their lenses, the same questions echoing in the air.

What happened to Nathan Calderwood?

Are you on good terms with Jane Rae?

Are you two still together?

“Please, just let me pass through. I don’t want to answer questions.” I speak in a tone high enough to be heard on top of the flashing of cameras.

My eyes can barely open because of the brightness, but the paparazzi plead. They want to know more. They don’t relent.

“I said I won’t be answering questions, so move.

” I shove past anyone in my way, sprinting down a solitary road to my car.

Safe inside, the story Nathan told me resurfaces.

.. the articles I read confirm this is how his sister Lucy was lost. She must have felt the same terror I do now, hounded by cameras like a deer caught in headlights.

My heart pounds a frantic rhythm as I enter the road, and despite the desperate urge, tears remain trapped, a painful knot in my throat. Anxiety and fear shadow my steps until I’m certain I’m no longer followed. It’s only then that I allow myself to pull over, park, and release the long-held sigh.

Going back to my place could mean seeing them there, so I unlock my phone to check if Zeke or Alessia could take me into any of their houses. However, the silenced phone welcomes me with seven missed calls from Nathan and a plethora of texts.

From: Nathan.

I have to get on a plane in two hours. I’m going back to Los Angeles to sort out the mess I’ve made.

Pick up the phone. I have something to tell you.

Where are you? I am scared.

Since you’re not picking up the phone, let me tell you what I’ve been planning. You can go with me, mend your reputation once again and see what we can do to take legal action against the malicious articles.

An hour. Please. Pick up.

I never meant to cause you any pain, and I mean it when I say I love you. You’re the only woman that I have ever loved.

I’m sorry for hurting you.

I’m getting on the plane. I’m sorry once again. The offer is up for whenever you want to run away from this mess.

Horrid at goodbyes, I am, and I don’t reply to his texts even though the hour shows that it’s been six hours since he had contacted me.

While a part of me still feels resentment for the significant parts of his life he concealed, the reality of his departure causes a deep, burning ache.

It’s a persistent sting I can’t seem to soothe.

This is supposedly the best path for both of us, but at what cost?

What flaw existed in what we had before external forces shattered it?

Perhaps Nathan will return to California and finally understand that his world is there, amidst a sea of people whose fame makes Havana’s seem insignificant. However, the thought of not seeing him alone swirls my stomach and makes me want to hurl.

Here I was thinking he was the one, and now he’s in a whole another country.

I will be another comma in his story. Not the ending.