*Giovani*

I stood in Olivia’s art studio, staring at the canvas on the easel. I’d sat on the bed for a long time after she stormed out, and when I finally got up, I didn’t know where I was going.

After the yelling, even standing in there felt like a violation. She’d told me I was welcome, but I couldn’t stop remembering the way her hands felt on my chest when she shoved me away.

I messed up. That glared back at me from every angle of the painting, a ...