“Well, you’re hardly the right one for her. She’s an impressionable twenty-two-year-old who only just graduated college, Theodore. If you think anyone will think this is by any means all right, you’re mistaken.”
“Don’t be bitter, Sophie. It shows your age.” Her lips parted. The grip on her cigarette loosened and she almost dropped it on herself. Couldn’t say I wanted to explain to Della how her aunt caught herself on fire because of a conversation I had with her. “You don’t like the fact that I would never go for somebody like you. I rejected you and you never got over it. I’m only the wrong choice for her because you believe in that twisted, miserable head of yours that you’re the right one for me.
“And you know what? There wouldn’t be a day on this earth that I would ever touch you. Not just because you’re a married woman, but because I have better taste and judgement in character than your husband did. So, if you say something to dissuade Della from pursuing a path that’s going to make her happy for a change, don’t think I won’t ruin you. Because Sophie?”
Her nostrils flared.
“I’ll do it with a smile.”
“How dare you!” She narrowed her eyes at me and huffed as she put her cigarette out in the glass ashtray she probably spent hundreds on.
I stood, straightened my shirt, and smiled like I didn’t threaten her. Then again, that was why my lips tipped. She was scowling at me, trying to look scary. And failing. “I suggest when we come back together to announce the news, you say something positive. If not, I’ll happily share the reason you’re not supportive is because I wouldn’t sleep with you in my office the day you came to see me.”
She said nothing, but her jaw was locked tight as she glared. I simply nodded and began walking away, remembering another piece she needed to know. “Someday soon, we’ll be leaving the city. I don’t know where or when, but I’m sure she’ll bring it up.”
The shriek she gave was ear piercing. “I take it that was your doing. Are you trying to separate us and get her to stop talking to me?”
Scoffing, I turned to face her. “I would never tell her to stop talking to you. We both know Della isn’t the person to cut people out of her life. She cares too much. She loves you. But it would be better if she said goodbye to the only place she’s known for something fresh. A place where people can’t make her miserable. If you had any sanity, you’d do the same.”
“Leave New York?”
I shrugged. “Admit it, Sophie. You hate it here. You hate your husband and the life you live, so you bury it by buying pointless things. Leave your fucking husband and get a life. Take a page out of Della’s book and find happiness.”
There was a moment of hesitation before, “You honestly think you could make her happy?”
Nothing was guaranteed, but I was sure as fuck going to try. “Think about what I said, Sophie.” She didn’t stop me from leaving.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Della
Professor Ambrose accepted the coffee from the cashier with her typical wide smile stretched across her face, thanking the young man before turning to me as we scoped out the café for a free table. I hadn’t been to the small brick establishment, but Ambrose said it was her favorite place to go.
“I’m hoping this meeting means good news, Della. I’ve been asked a few times if the new model had given her answer yet.”
The word model in relation to me almost had me laughing. Almost. Mostly, I’d wanted to cringe. My art always reflected the conventions of beauty that often weren’t seen in the public eye as traditional. The kinds of men and women that were fuller figured, too skinny, scarred, and rarely flawless. I’d wanted my work to be realistic, not some fantasy I was trying to escape into, even if I found art to be just that—a step out of my own life and into somebody else’s.
Once we sat tucked into the farthest corner of the café, I gave her an apologetic smile. I’d thought long and hard about this, debating on whether to ask Theo, and choosing to make up my mind without anybody else’s influence or opinion. It was long overdue for that to happen. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The opportunity is amazing and would make a point to a lot of people that might suffer the same trials as me. But I’m not the right person to represent them. It’s not because I don’t think I’m strong enough or that my story or struggles aren’t worthy of being shown, but I don’t think I’m ready.”
There hadn’t been much I was able to control in my lifetime, but I was taking that back. Professor Ambrose would always be my favorite instructor. She was kind and gentle-hearted with everybody’s best interest in the forefront of her mind. However, I knew my best interest wasn’t the same. I’d acknowledged it, thought about it, and knew I couldn’t accept.
“I would love to be able to still attend the class because I think I’d learn a lot and improve my ability to draw people of all kinds, but I’d prefer doing that from my stool and sketchpad. Maybe one day I’ll be able to let people stare at me and draw what they see, but I know me, and right now I know I won’t be able to handle
