An Art Form
Her eyes gaze over the thick glass entrance of her office for so long she begins to see only a blur. She's waiting for the arrival of someone who has quickly become one of the most important people in her life. He hasn't been to work for quite a few days and she knows why. Ever since he came to the firm, he's been having conflicting feelings about his family and his work. And of course, she gets that. Never having time to have her own family, she longs for what he has. Not with him necessarily. But with someone.
Just as she's beginning to lose hope that he will show up, his tall figure makes a shadow on the light-colored walls.
"Hey," is all he manages to say. She takes note of his appearance. It's different than last time she saw him. His eyes are darker than she remembered, and his stature is smaller.
"Hello Brian, how are you?" she asks innocently. She doesn't want to push him for information, but her heart can't take much more of not knowing what's happening with him. She twiddles a pen nervously in her hand, counting the times it crosses her fingers. An anxious habit she's picked up.
He just walks further into the threshold and takes a seat in front of her. Not even his footsteps make a sound. But it's an oddly comforting type of silence. One neither of them mind.
"Are you staying?" she asks trying to continue or rather start the conversation. Her green eyes now look into his brown ones. They are beautifully broken. It's a treacherous feeling she gets when she looks into them, so she doesn't stay there long knowing she won't be able to resist him if she does.
"I want to. I really do, but I just can't. I also want you to know it's not because of you, Katrina," he says softly. He looks her over and sees the physical change her body that happens as he says it. Her shoulders slump, her mouth slips open ever so slightly, and her hands clinch together. The body language of the both of them has always been a driving factor in their attraction to each other.
"Right, well okay. I'm very sorry to hear that you're leaving, but I understand," she says. And she means it. Even with the fact of the matter being that she had never completely crossed a line with him, she can't help but blame herself.
"I'll be okay," he says, but she doesn't quite believe him. And why would she? After all, it wasn't easy for him to keep his job at this firm so why should it be easy for him to get a new job.
When she looks at him, she doesn't see a man anymore, but she sees the mosaic lies he's telling himself. That he will be okay. That this somehow wasn't her fault. That he has to do this. Each lie fits together into an incredible, painful image of what their relationship is. Nothing but a work of art that will never be made. A work of art that will never be admired. A work of art.
That's what they think about as he leaves her office tonight, how they both want the forbidden art form that is true love.