Off Campus | ✓

40: Mila- New Beginnings

It wasn't like I regretted ending our relationship, if anything, it may have been the best thing I could do for myself.

Yeah, right.

"I'll tell him you can't come, then." Kennedy cracked his knuckles, picking up the tickets. He got up to leave, taking a piece of gum on the way from a small glass container I kept in the middle of a table where I held meetings.

The door clicked shut and I noticed he purposely left a ticket behind tucked underneath a packet of papers. I stared at it, trying to decide if I should take a leap of faith.

Would we still be dating if we healed together? I guess it was time to find out.

----

The gallery was packed. Everyone was marveling at the paintings and I could hear people scrambling to buy them before someone else did.

Ceiling mounted accent lights were positioned on the center of every canvas. They accentuated the highlights and shadows of every brush stroke and beckoned the viewer to come closer.

The gallery was overall dark and my pupils dilated to navigate my way through the corners of the warehouse-like gallery.

Enzo opted for a minimalist design in terms of framing his art, it didn't take away from his work and in my opinion, better enhanced it.

"His pieces challenge the current vernacular," I heard someone say.

Truth be told, I didn't know what I was looking at, yet I still felt moved. Enzo dabbled in different styles before he finally settled on contemporary. My interpretation of his work was always different compared to someone who was well versed in art, and much of the people here were from such community.

I passed by a throng of people crowding around a piece and came to a stop in front of an artwork no one was standing in front of.

The abstract combination of colors mingled with each other in disharmony. It was a dynamic combination that evoked feelings of uncertainty about societal pressures. It was... wonderful.

"Do you like it?" It was his voice, so quiet, but nevertheless, powerful enough to cause shivers on my arms.

I couldn't meet his eyes, my gaze fixed on the painting.

"I-" my breath hitched, the hairs on my neck standing tall. "I love it."

"I'm happy you came," his voice was transcendental. It scratched along my spine, straightening my back and waking every nerve in my body, making me aware of his every move. "Kennedy told me you wouldn't."

"It's your second showing," I still love you. I whispered, not trusting myself to blurt out anything. Do you still love me?

"You came to the first one?" Enzo dug his hands into his slacks. I stared, the shirt was fitted and contoured his muscles. I was now transfixed on the crease of his dress shirt. Fuck, get it together, Mila.

I blinked rapidly, coughing to hide my blush. It was a blessing that the lighting was dim.

"Yeah, I bought the ticket myself," I answered him. "Congratulations on selling all of your works back then."

"Thank you," Enzo's voice trembled. "You don't know how much that means to me. I hope things are going well for you."

They aren't. Not without you.

"Are you-" I paused. Was it okay to ask him? What if he said yes? I don't know if my heart could handle it. How should I respond afterward? "Are you seeing anyone?"