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After the first snowfall, it truly felt like the grip of winter had taken hold.
Winter was a time for coziness, yet Seraphina, who had been coasting in a languid state
for the better part of the year, found herself caught up in a whirlwind of activity as the
cold season settled in.
The art gallery she managed was buzzing with preparations for a new exhibition. This
time, the exhibition was set to take place at the renowned Sunburst City Art Museum, and
the theme was a retrospective of masterpieces by the great painters from generations
past.
Among the featured works were iconic pieces from the masters of the yesteryears, as well
as contemporary contributions from artists like Malcolm and Carney Bennett.
The concept for the exhibition was the gallery’s manager’s idea, and she threw her full
support behind it, immediately setting plans in motion and diving into the multifaceted
preparations.
Admittedly, showcasing Carney alongside Malcolm and the legendary greats felt a tad
premature, but Seraphina believed in Carney’s artistic merit and felt he more than
deserved the honor. She was determined to realize the dreams and aspirations that
Carney hadn’t lived to see fulfilled.
Her dedication meant that Seraphina was fully immersed in the event, dashing between
organizers and exhibitors to secure as many prestigious pieces as possible.
But, work had a way of encroaching on family life, and Seraphina couldn’t help but feel
she was neglecting home.
Valerio had his reservations about her absence, but when he learned she was doing it all
in memory of his late grandfather, he understood and kept his peace.
The frenzy lasted until late December when Seraphina finally began delegating tasks,
allowing herself some much-needed respite.
After all, Christmas was around the corner, as was the wedding day of Bowen and Tania.
She needed to be at her best for their special day.
On a rare afternoon off, Seraphina returned home early.
The housekeeper was busy in the kitchen, and Conway was sitting on the sofa, engrossed
in a TV show. His surprise at her early arrival was evident as he teased, “Look who is
back.”
Seraphina smiled, settling beside him and leaning on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m beat,
Grandpa.”
“You remember what it’s like to be tired?” Conway chortled. “Well, that’s good. I thought
you’d forgotten with all the busyness.”
Detecting something in his tone, Seraphina looked up at him. “Grandpa, beating around
the bush isn’t your style.”
Conway chuckled, then quizzed her, “Do you even know what day it is?”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“The 21st.”
“And tomorrow?”
“The 22nd.”
“And yesterday?”
Frowning, she replied, “The 20th… Are you testing a child?”
“Yes, the 20th,” Conway said with a twinkle in his eye. “And what day is that?”
“The 20th…?” Seraphina puzzled over the date until realization dawned, and her face fell.
Conway tapped her head lightly. “Remember now?”
She laughed awkwardly, replying, “It was my wedding anniversary with Leandro…”
“How could you forget something like that?” Conway chided. “The whole world remembers
it, except you. Is that right?”
“I’ve been busy, and Leandro didn’t remind me…” she muttered, then gasped,
remembering the jewelry set on her vanity the night before. “I thought it was a
spontaneous gift from him…”
As she rambled, guilt set in. “Was he planning to celebrate with me?”
“You think he doesn’t know you’re busy?” Conway replied. “He expected you’d come home
early, just this once. But you never did.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” she protested. “If he had, I would’ve come home sooner…”
“Do you not know how much he indulges you?” Conway retorted.
After a pause, Seraphina turned to Conway. “He used to be different. Lately, he’s been…
indulging me too much.”
Conway raised an eyebrow at her words. “Do you like this indulgent side of him, or not?”
She made a face. “I think I prefer him a bit colder and more… intense.”
As the words left her mouth, a chill ran down her spine. Despite the warm house, she felt a
draft behind her neck. Turning around, she saw Leandro coming downstairs with a mug in
hand. He glanced at her without expression, upping the chill factor.
“You’re back,” he said. “Do you want me to run a bath for you?”
Though his tone was calm, and his words unusually tender, a strange chill ran down
Seraphina’s spine.
It seemed she still couldn’t get used to this version of Leandro.
“No need,” Seraphina replied, “I’m not in the mood for a bath right now.”
“Well, come up here. I’ve got a present for you,” Leandro said.
Gifts and guilt mingled uneasily in Seraphina’s mind as she followed him, sending pleading
looks at Conway, who was suddenly engrossed in the TV.
As they ascended the stairs, she braced herself for the unknown, wondering what her
indulgent husband had in store for her this time.
After climbing the stairs, she found herself in Leandro’s study.
Leandro, seated comfortably in his chair, pulled her close and flicked on his computer
screen, “You’ve been planning that art exhibition, right? Well, it just so happens I know a
famous collector. He’s got a catalogue of paintings and he’s willing to loan out three for
your show.”
Seraphina leaned in eagerly, scrutinizing the screen.
The collector in question, a friend of Leandro’s, had several masterpieces at his disposal.
Just one of these on display would be a sensation.
Overcome with joy, Seraphina couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
She turned to face Leandro, “Are you sure you want to give me such a generous gift?”
“What are you doubting?” Leandro inquired.
After a moment’s hesitation, Seraphina spoke cautiously, “I… I forgot our anniversary.”
“Hmm,” Leandro responded nonchalantly.
“I didn’t even remember when I saw your gift.”
“Hmm.”
“And I didn’t get you anything,” she admitted.
Leandro continued to look at her calmly, “So what?”
“Shouldn’t you be angry or upset?” Seraphina pressed, “I’d almost prefer if you were cold
and distant instead of this gentle, okay?”
Leandro heard her, reached out to gently lift her chin and said slowly, “You like me better
cold-hearted, don’t you?”
Seraphina hesitated, then slowly nodded.
Leandro leaned closer, his voice deep, “Well, I won’t be.”
As he spoke, he tenderly nibbled on Seraphina’s earlobe. Realizing she had been played,
Seraphina’s temper flared, and she decided it was time for a showdown!
After their intense exchange, Seraphina was left feeling sore and utterly drained, leaning
against Leandro without the will to move.
It wasn’t until Valerio came home from school that Seraphina mustered the energy to get
up.
Having been busy for a while, and finally having a day at home, the family settled in the
upstairs lounge for some quality time after dinner.
Valerio had a pile of things to share with Seraphina, including the latest drawing
techniques he was itching to show her.
When Valerio took out everything, he suddenly realized he was out of red paint.
“There’s some on the bookshelf in my room,” Seraphina suggested, “Go get it yourself.”
Valerio bounced to his feet and dashed toward Seraphina’s room with glee.
It was a short trip just to fetch some paint, but he took over two minutes to return.
When he did, it wasn’t with paint but with a sketchbook that seemed far too mature for his
small frame.
“Mom, whose sketchbook is this?” Valerio asked as he emerged from the room.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmSeraphina, who had been thumbing through his drawings, looked up sharply at the
mention of “sketchbook” and her face paled when she saw what Valerio was holding.
“Put that back where you found it!” she said urgently, “Weren’t you supposed to get
paint? Why were you rummaging through my stuff?”
Valerio hesitated, unsure of what to do. Leandro glanced at Seraphina’s uneasy demeanor
and told Valerio, “Bring it here, let me take a look.”
“Don’t give it to him!” Seraphina protested.
With his mom and dad giving conflicting instructions, Valerio was confused about what to
do.
Seraphina quickly got up and snatched the sketchbook from Valerio’s hands, hiding it
behind her back as she was about to lecture him. But before she could, it was gone from
her grasp.
She spun around to find Leandro had taken the sketchbook.
“Hey—” Seraphina tried to intervene, but it was too late. Leandro had already opened the
sketchbook.
The only painting it contained was a warm and vivid watercolor.
The composition was rich in warm hues, dominated by the cozy yellow of streetlights—
Under the glow of those streetlights, amidst a flurry of snowflakes, were silhouettes of a
tall man, an elegant woman, and a small child walking hand in hand along a quiet street.
“Ah, that’s me!” Valerio pointed excitedly at the small figure, then to the man and woman
beside it, “And that’s Dad, and Mom—It’s so beautiful, did you paint this, Mom?”
Seraphina couldn’t help but cover her face with her hands.
Leandro studied the painting for a long time.
It was her work. He knew her style all too well. This painting was undoubtedly from her
hand.
Sandra Smith once told him that after leaving Sunburst City eight years ago, she had
stopped painting because all her work inevitably depicted him, and so she had given up
painting completely.
After returning to Sunburst City, she occasionally picked up the brush to teach Valerio, but
never seriously painted anything again. Now, she had once again taken up the brush to
create this piece.
The painting held the past, the present, and the future.
At last, she could let go of her past entirely, and for him, it was the greatest satisfaction.
“So, you did prepare a gift.” Leandro spoke softly, “Why hide it?”
Seraphina frowned at him—she really didn’t want this painting to be seen by anyone, even
Leandro and Valerio. It was too sentimental, not at all in keeping with her usual tough
persona!
“I love this painting,” Leandro said, “I’m keeping it.”
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