Stanley sat at his desk without moving.
Around noon, his coworkers began heading to lunch in small groups. Marshall walked past carrying a cup of coffee and stopped beside his workstation.
"Stanley? You okay?"
Stanley looked up. His eyes were red and swollen.
"Marshall, back at Mistwood Mountain... what did you and Delia talk about?"
Marshall seemed surprised by the question. "Not much. She was sketching, and I gave her a chocolate bar."
Stanley swallowed. "What was she drawing?"
"The mountains and the lake," Marshall paused for a moment before adding, "but she only sketched for a few minutes before stopping. She said she doesn't paint anymore."
Something twisted painfully inside Stanley's chest. She had stopped painting because of him.
Delia had once loved painting so much. The
