BELLA
Ever since I found out that Alex’s father’s will had been read earlier today, my mind had been restless. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus on the paintings hanging in front of me.
And I wasn’t the only one distracted. Alex stood beside me, his hand loosely clasping mine. He made an effort to look as though he is studying each canvas with interest, but I could see right through the act.
His thumb brushed against my fingers in an absentminded rhythm, more like a man seeking comfort than one admiring beauty. Every now and then, his gaze would linger on a painting for far too long, not because he was lost in its details, but because his mind had wandered somewhere far away. His eyes looked empty, distant.
. I knew if I spoke now, people around us would throw irritated gla
