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The Director (16)

Author: denthoughts
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Staring at the woman in front of him, David felt shocked, and numbness washes over him as he sank to the floor, his feet unable to hold him up. He felt so angry at Amanda for not having the decency to tell him she was resigning.

But it was not just anger he felt. He could also feel desperation, guilt, sadness, and all of that flooded him one at a time till he felt his head spinning. Picking up his phone, he made a call.

“Hello. This is David Henson. I would love to cancel my dinner reservation which was scheduled for seven pm. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. No need to refund me,” he said with a broken-hearted expression.

This made Grace surprised. She initially thought that David just had a sexual relationship with Amanda, and it seems it was not the case.

That was when Grace finally understood the situation, especially why he had reacted the way he had when she had told him the news.

“Oh my God! You’re in love with

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    She knew she was. She made heads turn, and her presence alone could make even the strongest man weak to his knees. Single men, dating, married, poor or rich all wanted her, but she went for Paul thinking he was the saint he portrayed himself to be.She could have said no, but she was confused. He might change, she thought, but now he wasn’t going to.He proved that over and over again. Dorothy got tired but didn’t know how to break up with him, and she was grateful he was finally gone, although she didn’t like the circumstances surrounding that fact.“Here is your tea,” she said as she placed the cup of tea on the table before Aston in his studio. She took a few sips of hers before placing her cup on the table too. “The weather outside is beautiful today.”“Yes. Yes, it is,” Aston confirmed, although his eyes never left Dorothy. “How about we go somewhere else while this dries?” he suggested.“Sure.”Together with their teas in their hands, they walked out of the studio. Instinctively

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    Dorothy turned around to see Paul standing there, arms folded across his chest and his eyes shooting daggers at Aston, who ignored him, by the way.“So I’ll call you and let you know how it goes, okay?” Aston asked while looking at Dorothy, who nodded excitedly like a kid.Aston smiled and then replied, “Bye Dorothy, and take care of yourself.”“Okay!. Bye Aston, and thanks for visiting. It really means a lot,” Dorothy said, as she walked him to the door.He stopped for a moment and took a look at Paul, who was still standing in the doorway.“And you too, Paul. It was nice to meet you,” she added, and with that, he walked out of their flat without waiting to hear Paul’s grunt of a response.Not wanting Paul to ruin her mood, Dorothy hopped past the grumpy Paul happily to their bedroom, humming a song.The only thing in her head was that her art was going to be at an exhibition– something she never expected to happen.For the rest of the day, Dorothy was in high spirits humming a favor

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    Dorothy turned around with a smile. “Hello Mr and Mrs Harris. Wonderful weather we have today, yeah?”“Absolutely,” Mrs. Harris chirped while Mr. Harris only nodded.“Let’s go in,” she said to Aston leading the way. “How do you like your tea?” Dorothy asked as they entered her flat, locking the door behind them.“Anything is fine, thank you,” he replied with a smileDorothy walked to the kitchen, and moments later, the sound of a kettle whistling was heard, followed by cabinets opening and closing.Aston took this time to observe the interior decor of the flat. It was an average-sized flat with clean white walls decorated with prints of beautiful paintings.Different artifacts, frames, flower vases, and books sat well arranged on the shelf.Wine-colored drapes framed the windows, and the inner lace curtains remained drawn, allowing the sun rays to enter, casting a golden sheen into the living room. The decor was simple yet beautiful and welcoming.This reminded Aston of the typical co

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    “Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me. And believe me, when I say coming from you means so much more,” she said.“I thought I was doing horribly, so I stopped painting for a while. I only began painting again when I came across your works in a gallery. I was in awe of hyperrealism. It was magnificent, and I knew I wanted to know how to paint like you,” she explained excitedly. “Meeting you here might be the best thing that has happened to me this year.”It was Aston’s turn to feel flattered, and he did ever so much. He had received a lot of compliments, but in a weird way, Dorothy appreciating his art made him feel he did something for someone, and it made him feel good.“I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from this class, and I can give you pointers if you want.”“You know I didn’t exactly enroll for this class. Mrs. Michael is my aunt, and she just allows me to join in and last week was my second time here.”“That makes sense. I didn’t think you paint. I though

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    For heaven’s sake, he wasn’t some teenager going through hormonal changes, so why couldn’t he stop thinking about Dorothy’s body and, even worse, smiling and blushing at the memory.‘’I guess we can now deduce my idea wasn’t laced with foolishness after all,’ Steve said with the smug look still on his faceAston scoffed, rolling his eyes at him, and said, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I am still not convinced the class will do me any good.”“We’ll see about that, mate. We’ll see.”The whole weekend felt like torture to Aston. He longed to see Dorothy again, and it seemed the weekend was taking too long to end.Everything was confusing to him; what he was feeling about Dorothy and why he was feeling that way didn’t make any sense to him, but he just wanted to see her again.When Monday finally came, Aston could hardly wait till 3 pm when classes started, and by 12 pm, he was already at the building waiting for Dorothy to show up, but she didn’t.Class started, and she was still nowhere

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    In one swift moment, a bang was heard, and the whole dining table came crashing down, sending a wave of shock throw Dorothy.She had seen this happen so many times, but she could never get used to it. He promised to change.He said he was going to be better, but after two years and nothing had changed.The last time, it was the TV that suffered it, which took a while to replace, and now, the dining table had also felt the impact of Paul’s fist.The table was ruined; dinner was ruined too.“You love being a whore, eh? You love letting different men run their hands all over your body under the guise of art, right?” He barked the vile words pacing the dining room.The words made her feel she had just been prickled with over a hundred pins.“I am not a whore, Paul!. I am not! I love art, and you know it!” She yelled at him.He scoffed before he said, “Oh c’mon. You’re just using art as a cover-up. You enjoy the way these so-called artists of yours touch you.”He then grabbed her shoulder

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