Chapter 138: Channeling Pain into Art
The brush quivered in Nathan's hand, hovering mere inches from the canvas. For weeks, it had sat there, blank and accusing—a stark reminder of the creativity that had abandoned him along with Olivia. But today was different. Today, the pain that had been his constant companion since she left was demanding to be heard.
Nathan closed his eyes to let the emotion wash over him and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his hands moved of their own accord, the brush meeting canvas in a violent slash of crimson.
As though his dam had burst, colors flew across the canvas: angry reds, mournful blues, confused purples. Nathan worked frenziedly, barely stopping to change brushes or pat more paint. Hours fell unobtrusively by, the world outside his studio fading away until there was nothing but him, the canvas, and the maelstrom of feelings he was pouring onto it.
When he stepped back finally, his chest heaving and his hands smeared with rainbow colors, Nathan was appalled at what appeared b

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