#Chapter 172: Space

Iris I think I’ve finally found my rhythm again, after weeks of disruption. My brush moves easily across the canvas tonight as I paint a serene scene of a fat little bird sitting in a tree. That very bird is sitting in the tree outside my window, his bright yellow feathers all puffed up and glowing in the light of the setting sun. But when the studio door slams open behind me, the bird squawks and flutters away, and I nearly smudge the colors together. I turn to see Arthur standing in the doorway. “Hey,” I say, lowering my brush and wiping it on a cloth. “You’re home early.” Arthur doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stares at my painting, his jaw working as if he’s chewing on words he can’t quite spit out. “Arthur?” I set my palette down on the table beside me. “What’s wrong?” “I tried to reject her,” he finally says. “It didn’t work.” My hand freezes halfway to the cup of paint thinner where I was about to rinse my brush. “What do you me