The Settlement
Chapter 1

My routine had gained some semblance of normalcy. The exhibits I secured and those brought to me required the usual attention and enthusiasm for specifics. The detailed nature of the work was what kept me afloat those first months.

It almost seemed I lived at the gallery given the hours I was spending making sure everything ran smoothly. It continues to serve somewhat as a beacon for sanity.

Although I recognize I would and could walk away should it come to that point.

My tenuous relationship with Franklin has even improved similar to when he was supportive of me during Provocations. He had invested in my preparation for that debate and bailed me out that day – when I took a step too far and realized I was in trouble. He didn’t know I had secured additional work for individual buyers. As it didn’t interfere with the CAC he didn’t have to know anyway.

Besides, I had to fill the hours after leaving the gallery not to mention the long weekends. Three or four more consulting endeavors and this additional work would have served its purpose. The funds were kept separate from our joint accounts for its impending use. I had enjoyed the work and it would be an option if the permanent position at the gallery no longer made sense.

James walked into the office and interrupted my thoughts with reminders of artists I had to call along with two prospective contributors. He seemed distracted today but perhaps it was just a reflection on my inability to focus.

So much for keeping my sanity in this place.

Getting up I check on how the art was being handled in the left wing. We received the next exhibition’s artist’s work yesterday and were in the midst of unpacking and displaying his work.

Photographs over the last 5 years – mostly in black and white prints which I love. Passing on a few instructions I feel comfortable things are coming into place and move to go back to the office to place the required phone calls.

As I turn to leave the piece most recently hung catches my eye. The lighting was flawless and captured the scene perfectly. Greg, the artist, must have been on one of his many rock-climbing trips.

The shot was taken from the perspective from the ground below Рtaking into the frame the fa̤ade of this mountain. The chasm within it so pronounced by the darkness, surrounded by vicious chaos of corners and edges impossible to forge back together. The force that separated the whole was evident.

The emptiness between akin to what I feel now.

Sighing heavily I realize I had to return to business. It was pointless to cover thoughts so familiar as I’d gone over them in my head without end. More importantly without change, well maybe in me but not in how she felt. It seemed evident she would never forgive me.

The ache returned again with the threat of never.

They say time heals all wounds…I’m still waiting. Months have come and gone since that fateful night. I can’t wait for time anymore. Soon the papers would be delivered. It’s the least I can do for her. She deserves to be free.

Free of the vestiges of my failure – from the chaos of our chasm.