CHAPTER 71: CHAPTER 71

Chapter 71

Astrid’s POV

The sun had just begun to set, painting the sky in soft orange colour. The light cast a warm, golden glow over the pond, making the water shine like it was sparkling gold. It was beautiful and it was something I felt like capturing on my canvas but I didn’t have one yet so I’m going to stick with my sketchbooks

The children, their earlier mischief forgotten, were now sitting peacefully on a large blanket with their nannies, munching on snacks the women had packed. The air was filled with their soft chatter and the gentle rustle of the grass and trees.

I was completely absorbed in my drawing, my pencil flying across the page. I had moved on from sketching the children and was now trying to capture the way the pack made me feel. Yes, it was an abstract drawing, I was just going with what I felt like not drawing from memory or from seeing what was in front of me but just letting my feelings and my hands take control.

It was a challenge, but a welcome one. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, my mind was quiet, focused solely on the task at hand. The shame and anxiety that had plagued me since the kiss had receded, replaced by a profound sense of calm.

A slight tug on the sleeve of my sweater pulled me from my concentration. I looked down and found myself staring into a pair of wide, curious blue eyes. It was Christian, the youngest of the trio. He had a small smudge of chocolate on his cheek and was clutching a half-eaten cookie in one hand.

"What you doing?" he asked, his voice soft and muffled by the cookie in his mouth.

I couldn’t help but smile, he was just so cute. "I’m drawing," I told him, tilting my sketchbook so he could see.

I showed him the drawing of them, the one I did of him, Leo and Maya while they focused on the lake.

His eyes widened in awe as he looked at the page. He pointed a chubby, slightly sticky finger at the drawing of him and the twins by the water.

"That’s me! And Leo! And Maya!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight.

"It is," I confirmed, my smile widening. "Do you like it?"

He nodded vigorously, his dark curls bouncing. "It’s pwetty," he said to me with a wide smile.

He leaned closer, his little nose almost touching the paper. "My mummy draws too."

I turned to him in shock. The only artist I knew in this pack was Yvonne but then again, this pack was huge and Kaeleen had told me before they had numerous notable individuals and people who were free to do their own thing.

"Oh, really? I bet she’s good." I said to him,

He nodded again, even more enthusiastically this time.

"She’s the bestest!" he said. "She makes... pictures with... with sticky stuff!" He scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to find the right words. "And they’re big! Bigger than you! And sometimes they’re sad, with drippy colors. But sometimes they’re happy, like... like a big sunshine!"

I listened, completely captivated. I had no idea what sticky stuff was, although I suspected it was paint. His adorable description was the most charming thing I had ever heard. I imagined a woman painting huge, vibrant canvases filled with emotion. It sounded wonderful.

"Your mummy sounds like an amazing artist," I said, my voice filled with genuine admiration. "I would love to see her work sometime."

"You can!" he said brightly. "It’s in our house! And in the... the big white room with all the people!"

Was he talking about a gallery? I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to just jump to conclusions.

Before I could ask him what he meant by the big white room, a new voice called out, warm and familiar.

"Christian, baby, what are you doing bothering the Luna?"

I looked up, and my breath caught. Walking toward us was a woman with a kind, smiling face and the same dark, curly hair as her son. She was wearing a pair of paint-splattered overalls over an old t-shirt, and her hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, held in place by a pencil. Despite her work-worn clothes, she moved with an effortless grace.

"Mummy!" Christian shrieked with delight. He abandoned me without a second thought and ran toward her, his little legs pumping as fast as they could go.

The woman scooped him up into her arms, laughing as she peppered his face with kisses. "There’s my little monster. Were you being good for Maria?"

I recognized her immediately. I had no idea how I did not notice she was the one immediately I heard her voice.

"Yvonne," I said, finding my voice and standing up. "It’s good to see you."

She turned to me, her smile warm and genuine. "Astrid. It’s so good to see you too. I haven’t seen you since that party, Rebecca three for you." She shifted Christian to her other hip. " How are you? I hope my little guy wasn’t causing too much trouble."

"Not at all," I said honestly. "He was just telling me all about his mother’s amazing artwork."

Yvonne laughed, a rich, melodic sound. "Oh, did he?"

She turned to him with a smile. "What did you tell her?"

"The sticky stuff." He said with a laugh.

She chuckled. "Did you understand what he said?" She asked me.

"Of course."

"Well, I’m glad you did," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Most people just look confused." She looked down at my sketchbook, which I was still holding. "He wasn’t the only one talking about art, I see. May I?"

"Of course," I said, feeling a sudden wave of shyness as I handed it to her.

There were only a handful of people I’ve shown my works to and I was nervous the whole time just like how I am right now.