And it is with a heavy heart that I realize he has gone again. That maybe I was wrong. He never
intended to stay.
That maybe this is the most I can ever have from him. Brief flashes of madness interceded by long
solemn silences.
***
Eventually, I find my way back to the piece. Back to Salacious. And I stare up at the colors for a
long time. Trying to make sense of them. Trying to make a decision.
To understand the purpose of any of it.
“I thought you would be amongst your fans,” a voice speaks from behind me.
My body relaxes, in the way that only his presence can bring. I don’t turn to look at him. Not yet.
Because it is easier to pretend he’s merely an apparition. Until I know for certain that he’s real.
“It’s very overwhelming,” is my reply.
“It’s good to leave them wanting more,” he answers. “They like the mystery.”
“Did you do all of this?” I ask him. “Is that the only reason they are here?”
“The only thing I did, Chloe, was show them your work. The people who are here tonight believed
it was worth seeing in person. There is nothing more to it.”
“But you were on stage with me,” I answer him.
“They didn’t know I would be,” he replies. “Nobody did.”
My heart beats louder in my chest. Relieved and excited.
That this is real. That this is genuine.
But it’s terrifying too.
Because I still don’t know the rest. How the rest of this story unfolds. If this will be the first or the
last piece of art that we create together.
“I think it will look best above my bed,” he says.
This time, I do turn. Just a little. To meet his gaze.
And he’s as real as he’s ever been. More beautiful than I remember. And more relaxed too.
At ease.
As if maybe his demons have finally settled.
“Salacious,” he murmurs, his eyes still on the painting behind me. “I didn’t realize you kept it. I
didn’t realize that you’d hold onto something so tightly, when the man behind it had caused you pain.”