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The walls were blank.
“What did you do?” I shouted. “David! Are you crazy?”
He didn’t even bother to turn around. He just kept measuring a section of blank wall and making pencil marks on it.
“David, what’s going on?” I demanded. “Why did you do this? Where are your beautiful paintings?”
He ignored me and kept on measuring.
“David, answer me! Is this because of me?”
He turned around and fixed me with one of those unnerving gazes. “Not everything is about you, Cara. I do this all the time. I finish a painting, I paint over it, I start over. It’s called learning.”
His sarcasm made me want to punch him. “But . . . they were perfect! How could you do that?”
He had already returned to measuring and marking. “They were done,” he said in a bored voice. “Time to move on.”
It was all t
