That Evening

1291 Words

*Julia* I’m not sure I’m ready to show Braxton the painting I was working on today. It isn’t finished yet, and it’s not like the other paintings I’ve done for him to see. He might not like it. He might even think it’s not any good, which would be a hard thing to hear. Not that I think he’d say anything to hurt my feelings on purpose, but I am good at reading people’s expressions, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to tell if he thinks it’s crap, even if he says otherwise. Beyond that, as he pulls me along out of the dining room and toward the art room, I am wishing he would’ve said something to me about the lawsuit that Jeff is filing against him. Braxton hasn’t mentioned it since he got home. He’s acting like there’s nothing wrong, and I know that’s not the case. I’m sure he just doesn’t

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