“No,” she said as she dabbed at her eyes. “I was just upset. You have so much, and I’ve lost everything. It wasn’t fair, and I had to express it.
I sat back, battling my feelings. The pictures tormented me, even though I wanted to understand and forgive her. I finally said something. “I believe it’s time for you to leave.”
Despite her dejected expression, Lexi remained silent. I gave her some cash before she went, and I took her to a neighboring shelter the next morning.
I continued to feel remorse for weeks after that. Then a box came one day. There was a painting within, a calm, tranquil picture of myself. Additionally, there was a message that was signed by Lexi.
After a brief pause, I dialed the number on the note. I cleared my throat as she took up the phone. “I received your artwork, Lexi. It’s stunning.
After our conversation, we agreed to get together again. Maybe, just maybe, we had another opportunity to begin.
