SWNOVELS Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR–DEPRESSION AND OBSESSION
CHAPTER FOUR – DEPRESSION AND OBSESSION
TER FOUR
The ally facade of having it all – a theiving artistic career, a loving marriage – had been mercilessly shattered mete hoons ago by Erhan’s cold betrayal.
As it sensing the end anguish cloaking her, Madame Rousseau pressed on briskly. “Which is why I felt compelled to seek you sit upon spotting you here.”
Jasmine’s bone furowed slightly as she refocused on the ctifk. “Lalon’t understand”
“My dear girl, have you been so lost in your private melodrama that you’ve missed the incredible buzz about you in the air chicles this past month?”
The rebuke was as gentle as Madame Rousseau’s lightly French–accented voice could manage. “You showing at the Eldridge made quite an lesqu ession. You’ve been one of the most hotly discussed new artists to arrive on the scene.”
“I had no idea.“Jasmine admitted, stunned in truth, amidst the gradual fracturing of her marriage, the last thing on her mind had been dwelling on the reception to her professional debut “I’m flattered that you enjoyed my work so much.”
“More than enjoyed it.” Madame Bousseau leveledher with an intent look. “I believe you have a unique gift, Miss Delarois. And I would be remiss not to try securing that talent to be showcased in the prestigious Bergstrom contemporary collection I’m curating this fall.”
The unexpected offer, delivered in Madame Roussean’s signature confident cadence, momentarily robbed Jasmine of the ability to spınak
Showing at the internationally renowned Bergstres gallery was the kind of career–defining accomplishment most artists could only dream about
And yet het diverce. No matter how tempting the opportunity, her world had been inrevocably stuttered by Ethan’s unfaithfulness. The thought of diving into the monumental undertaking of a high–prodile gallery debut amidst this devastation made het wool.
*appreciate the incredible hose of your invitation,” she finally managed. “That with everything going on in my personal life right now, I’m afraid I’m not in the right frame of mind to properly channel the depth of emotion needed for a collection of that magnitude,” Jasmine finished, hating how the excuse sounded feeble even to her mmbris
To hes surprise, Madame Rousseau’s face remained impassive rather than twisting in desdain at the rejection. After a considering pause, she reached into her chic leather handbag and retrieved a simple ivery business card
“I understand this is an inopportune time,” she said delicately, sliding the card across the table. “But I do hope you’ll reconsider once you’ve resolved whatever personal turmoil plagues you. Opportunities like this are far too fireting to let slip away, my dear.”
Mutely, Jasmine retrieved the card, running her thumb over the elegantly embossed lettering “Thank you, ….I’ll think about it.”
Madame Roseau offered the faintest of nods, seemingly satisfied. “See that you do. Your talent would be a crime to loc languish. I keep a space open for you in the Bergström should you embrace your ambition again.”
With last appraising look at Jasmine’s spent countenance, the esteemed critic rose smoothly and swept out of the cafe in a wait of expensive French perfume.
Jasmine stared after her, equal parts deflated and buoyed by the encounter.
Only after the other patrons‘ discreet stares reminded Jasmine of her undignified state did she finally rise with a trembling exhale and begin the rest of the long journey home
Weary beyond words, Jasmine unlocked the door to the uptown loft apartment she had treasured sharing with than for the past five years
Every inch of the spacious interior represented their mingled dreams and aesthetics from the carefully curated wall of modernist artwork to the plush velvet couch that had been the site of many lazy Sunday snuggles.
More recently, of course, it was also the backdrop for tense, bitter arguments as their marriage crumbled around them
Jasmine swallowed hard against the swelling lump in her throat as she flicked on the lights, wincing as the warm glow illuminated all the achingly familiar sights.
There was the overstuffed armchair where she used to tuck herself to read for hours, the sleek chrome lamp than installed to give her optimal lighting for sketching
And in the hallway, framed photos of their happy, dating faces stared back at her in silent mockery of the contented life they once shared.
It was all too much. With a strangled sob, jasmine pivoted and strode towards their bedroom with a sudden sense of urgency. She had to get out of here, away from the constant reminders of how thoroughly Ethan had shattered her faith in forever.
the yanked open the double doors of the enviably massive walk–in closet, refusing to look at the sampled bod that still bore the indenting of where she and Ethan once tangled in throes of passion. Her shaking hands fumbled as she dragged one of her largest roling suitcases from its love
Then, forcing herself into an eerily calm state of focus, Jasmine began the task of stripping her belongings from the shared space piece by piece. She worked with efficient haste, jamming cloches and personal items into the expandable luggage without care for organization
Hei throat burned with unshed tears the entire time, momories of this life they crafted playing on a torturous loop through her mind.
andress the
The blue cashmere sweater Ethan surprised her with one chilly autumn evening the brushed silver pendant he gifted her after her first solo gallery opening the vivid red wrap wore the night they finally conceived after months of toverishly hoping and praying
The last item plucked Jasmine’s breath from her lungs with its weight of unimaginable griel.
Sinking to the floor in a boneless heap, she finally surrendered to the wracking subs that shook her entire body as she clutched the delicate maternity dress to her aching heart
A baby. Their baby. The
dream, the one shared joy they had clung to through the deterioration of everything else. It was the only thing that kept Jasmina hoping, praying for a miracle to salvage their crumbling marriage last year.
Until the devastating miscarriage at three month stole that final promise of redemption from them as well.
That loss had been the tipping point, the moment when Jasmine finally understood they were too broken to ever put the pieces back together.
Eventually, when the tide of tears ebbe enough for Jasmine to draw a gasping breath, she slowly rose on trembling legs and tugged the packed suitcase into the living room.
There was no point in further delay she had to leave this place that now only compounded her agony with every passing minute,
With a last kaunted game around the bolt, taking in every exquisite and meaningful detail one final time, Jasmine turned and fed into the hallway, the never lookethark
CHAPTATIVE THE DEAL AT THE BAR