Chapter 2
1466 Words
"Mr. Blackwood is driving me back to campus anyway... it's the perfect chance to look at your paintings!"
The art case in Amaris' hand clatters loudly to the floor. Charcoal sticks scattered across the ground, several snapping in two.
She crouches down to gather them, and hears the sound of quick footsteps as Annika hurries over.
"Let me help you! Wow, these sketches are incredible!" She picks up one of the loose drawings.
It is a series of quick studies showing Stellan with a wide range of expressions, drawn during Amaris' practice sessions.
"You've captured Mr. Blackwood's likeness perfectly."
Stellan walks over, takes the sheet from Annika's hand, and his brow tightens almost imperceptibly.
"Let's get in the car first."
As Annika bends to slide into the front passenger seat, she suddenly senses the air around her turn heavy and still.
Glancing back, she sees Amaris standing in the shadows, her gaze cold and fixed on the folded silk scarf left lying on that specific seat.
"Oh... sorry! My mistake!" Annika sticks her tongue out playfully. "Of course, this seat is yours, Amaris."
At this, Stellan lifts his head. His eyes shift briefly between the two women, and his Adam's apple moves once.
"Amaris doesn't mind such things."
The words feel like a thin needle pricking Amaris' ears. She remembers two years earlier, when a female director from his company had mistakenly sat in this same spot.
Stellan's face had turned icy on the spot, and that woman was never seen again in their social circle afterward.
Inside the car, there is a faint, unfamiliar scent of perfume.
Amaris reaches over, picks up the scarf folded neatly into a square, and notices the pale gray silk carries a subtle hint of citrus. Without a word, she slips it into her handbag.
When the car pulls away, Annika begins telling amusing stories from campus. Stellan replies only occasionally, but his tone has a lightness Amaris rarely hears.
Amaris looks out the window. As dusk falls, the city lights flicker on one by one.
She suddenly recalls the night last week when Stellan returned home long after midnight, his clothes carrying that same citrus fragrance.
When she had asked, he had explained it was just perfume picked up during a business dinner.
The light turns red, and the car comes to a stop. Annika leaned closer to her, bright eyes fixed on her face.
"Amaris, our school is holding an arts festival next month... would you be able to come as a judge? Mr. Blackwood says you've won awards for your work."
Amaris pauses, and instinctively glances toward Stellan in the driver's seat.
"She's preparing for a solo exhibition right now... she probably won't have time," Stellan answers for her, his voice steady.
"Oh, that's such a shame! We're here."
The car pulls up outside the main gate of the university. Annika unfastens her seat belt, looking reluctant to leave.
"Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Blackwood! See you soon, Amaris!" She pushes the door open, then turns back again. "By the way... your voice... has it always been like this?"
For a second, everything falls silent.
Stellan's knuckles whiten where they grip the steering wheel, and his voice sharpens.
"Annika!"
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be rude! It's just... I have a friend who's a doctor, and I thought maybe there could be something that would help..."
"Get out." His tone is cold as ice.
At his harsh command, Annika's eyes instantly fill with tears.
She mumbles a quick goodbye, closes the door, and Amaris watches through the window as the girl stands near the gate, dabbing at her eyes, before slowly disappearing from view.
Only then does Stellan let out a long breath.
He turns to look at Amaris, and when she does not meet his gaze, he gently lifts her chin with his fingers.
His voice softens. "Are you upset?"
Amaris lowers her lashes, and traces words lightly against the palm of his hand.
She has feelings for you.
The tension leaves his forehead, and he even lets out a faint smile.
"Are you jealous?"
The thought seemed to improve his mood.
He brushes his thumb gently over her lips.
"You know you're the only one I see."
Amaris stares back, looking at her own reflection in his pupils, so small, so indistinct.
She remembers what Annika had said while flipping through her drawings.
"I've never seen him look like that before."
Maybe the girl spoke the truth.
It had been a very long time since Amaris had seen the gentle expression of the man she drew in those sketches.
Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows in long, winding lines. Amaris sits curled up on the bay window seat in her bedroom, her finger moving across the screen of her tablet.
What Stellan does not know is that Annika had already found a way to add her to her social contacts list.
Just now, Annika has posted a new update.
Amaris holds her finger suspended above the screen. She knows she should not look... but the photograph appears anyway.
Annika's eyes are still red and swollen, yet she faces the camera with a smile that feels like a quiet victory.
Resting against the curve of her slender neck, the sapphire necklace glows with a deep, muted blue under the indoor lights. It is the same necklace Stellan had told her about just the week before.
Back then, he had said it had been sold to another bidder at auction, and had even shown her the catalog, commenting that the central stone reminded him exactly of the color of her eyes.
Thank you for this thoughtful gift from my boss!
The caption is followed by a shy smiling emoji.
Even though I cried half the night, it feels so good to be understood.
Below the post, Stellan's reply appears.
Stellan: [Get some rest.]
The sliding bathroom door opening makes Amaris jump. She quickly locks the tablet screen, but the image is already burned into her memory.
Stellan steps out, drying his hair with a towel. Droplets of water run down his chest and disappear beneath the waistband of the towel wrapped around his hips.
"Something came up at work all of a sudden... I'll be away on a business trip for a few days. Only three days, and I'll be back. Make sure you have Ms. Whitaker go with you for your follow-up appointment."
He walks toward her, reaching out to touch her forehead, but Amaris pretends to adjust her hair and shifts away.
The small, clear sign of resistance makes his hand hover in midair for a moment.
"Still unhappy?"
Stellan leans down suddenly, placing both hands on either side of the window seat so she is enclosed between his arms and the glass behind her.
"This trip really couldn't be put off."
Amaris keeps her eyes lowered, shakes her head, and types quickly on her tablet.
Travel safely.
Stellan reads the words, then gives a quiet laugh.
"I'll bring you something nice when I return." He kisses the top of her head, then turns to pack his suitcase.
During the days Stellan is away, Annika's social feed updates constantly.
Last-minute trip! Off with the boss.
Attached to a photo of two first-class boarding passes.
Somebody's been working nonstop... but also secretly upgraded my seat. What do I even do with this?
Amaris opens Annika's profile and scrolls further back. More little details appear one after another.
It's such a warm feeling when someone remembers exactly what you like.
With a photograph of a delicate salmon salad, and a handwritten note circled in the corner.
No onions.
The caption reads: Someone acts all serious and cold on the outside... but remember even though I don't eat onions.
A comment from a colleague below.
Noah: [Mr. Blackwood, that observant?]
Annika replies: [Shh... don't tell.]
The post that stings most is from that same morning.
Annika stands in front of a mirror in a hotel hallway, taking a selfie. Her bathrobe hangs loosely open at the collar, and the sapphire necklace rests just above the hollow of her throat.
Reflected in the mirror behind her, a tall figure stands with his back turned, walking deeper into the room.
Amaris closes the social feed calmly, slides her finger across the screen a few more times, and confirms a booking for a first-class flight to Switzerland, departing the following month.
Stellan had always been like a mountain of ice, unmoving and frozen year-round. Countless women had tried to draw close, like butterflies seeking warmth... only to circle in vain around his cold, unyielding form.
But now Amaris knows for certain, the marriage she had tried so hard to hold together was already slipping from her grasp.
- Writer
