Chapter 24: What I Really Saw
The Dream House
Book One
People always say sleep heals.
They're lying.
Sometimes...
Sleep simply gives your memories another chance to speak.
I woke before sunrise.
The apartment was silent.
No television.
No music.
Only the soft humming of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic beginning to wake up.
The old pencil still rested on my desk.
Exactly where I'd left it.
For a long moment I simply stared at it.
Then...
I looked toward the unfinished painting leaning against the wall.
The burned edges.
The smoke stains.
The only thing I'd managed to save from the fire.
Something inside me told me to look behind it.
I didn't know why.
I walked over.
Carefully lifted the canvas.
A smaller one had fallen behind it.
I'd completely forgotten about it.
The frame was cracked.
The colors were faded from smoke.
I wiped away a thin layer of dust with my sleeve.
Then...
I froze.
It was her.
The woman.
The one I'd been telling everyone about.
The woman I thought I'd seen standing inside the flames.
Except...
She wasn't standing.
She was smiling.
Because she was only a painting.
My painting.
Half finished.
I slowly sat down on the floor.
The memory returned all at once.
The fire alarms.
The smoke.
People screaming.
Me running back toward my studio.
Looking through the window one last time.
The flames had reflected across the glass.
For one impossible second...
The unfinished portrait had looked alive.
I closed my eyes.
"Oh..."
A small laugh escaped me.
Not because it was funny.
Because it finally made sense.
I hadn't imagined anything.
I'd misunderstood what I'd seen.
The fire hadn't been trying to tell me something.
My heart had been trying to hold on to something.
Sometimes...
Grief paints pictures our eyes never actually saw.
My phone buzzed.
Luna
Morning! Coffee?
Before I could answer...
Another message appeared.
Selena
Don't tell Luna I'm asking...
I smiled already.
...but is Sinnad always like that?
I blinked.
I read the message again.
Then again.
I typed.
Like what?
She replied almost immediately.
Calm.
I laughed.
I think so.
Three little dots appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Finally...
It's annoying.
Why?
No response.
Instead...
My phone rang.
I answered.
"You text faster than you think."
"I know."
"So..."
"What?"
"You called him calm."
"I didn't."
"You absolutely did."
"I described a personality."
"Which you noticed."
Silence.
"Selena..."
"What?"
"You've never described another man to me before."
She sighed dramatically.
"Oh please."
"No seriously."
"I was making an observation."
"About his eyes too?"
Silence.
Long silence.
"Wait..."
I sat up.
"You noticed his eyes?"
"I..."
She stopped herself.
"Oh my goodness."
I started laughing.
"No."
"No."
"No."
She groaned.
"This is exactly why I didn't want to call."
I couldn't breathe.
"You like him!"
"I do not!"
"You noticed his eyes!"
"I notice everyone's eyes!"
"Liar."
"I interview people for a living!"
"You own a company."
"Exactly."
"That has absolutely nothing to do with his eyes."
She covered the phone for a second.
I could actually hear her pacing.
Finally she spoke again.
"I don't even know him."
"True."
"So how could I like him?"
"Excellent question."
"I just..."
She stopped.
Then quietly admitted,
"...I think he's different."
That sentence...
Hit me harder than I expected.
Because Selena never used words like that.
Different.
Interesting.
Kind.
Those weren't her words.
Numbers were.
Strategies.
Results.
Deadlines.
Yet somehow...
One barber had completely disrupted her vocabulary.
I smiled.
Not because she liked him.
Because for the first time since I'd met her...
Selena wasn't talking like a CEO.
She was talking like a woman.
And somehow...
I had a feeling...
She hadn't even realized it yet.