Rose’s Point of View;
Joy bubbled up inside me, making me forget the paint on my fingers and the silly grin stretching across my face
“Alex,” I said into the phone, pacing the living room, “it’s finished. I have finally completed it.”
He chuckled on the other end with that smooth, warm sound I was starting to crave. “The painting?” he asked.
“Yes, the painting,” I giggled. “And don’t you dare act surprised—I told you it was coming together!”
“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but I can hear it in your voice. This one feels special.”
I paused, glancing over at the canvas leaning proudly against the wall. My heart swelled. “It is because It’s you. I have never felt this sure about anything I have painted before. It’s like… I found you in the colors and in every stroke.”
“You are reall
