“That’s not what I said,” she argued. “But you can’t deny it...I’ve given you everything these past weeks. My time, my body, my secrets. And all I’m asking is to be allowed to breathe outside this studio too.”
He stood abruptly, chair scraping against the wooden floor. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?!” His voice boomed, echoing against the canvases stacked around them. “I can’t paint anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. And now you’re telling me you want independence, what? To pose for other artists? To let someone else see what’s mine?”
The word mine cut through her like a whip. Her cheeks flushed hot with both anger and a traitorous thrill.
“I am not yours to cage!” she shot back, standing to face him, eyes blazing. “I love what we have, Damien, but if you can’t respect t
