Love Coming From The Least Expected -
Chapter 366
Of course, I was tempted. Although all art lovers go abroad to learn painting from their admired masters, it was only because local painters would not accept disciples or they would just accept one or two. Some would not even show their faces.
However, what did I paint and when did I send in the painting? Why do I have no idea?
Christopher was holding popcorn and watching TV dramas with me. He was so bored he was about to fall asleep. Seeing me answering a call and then standing motionless, deep in thought, he asked, “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“Well, I’m actually a little confused.” I knocked on my head. “The art exhibition organizer actually called me and said that my paintings received a good review. Don’t you think it’s strange? This time the organizers gave everyone two months but I haven’t even touched a pen for two months. When did I give them the painting? Was it when I was sleepwalking?”
“Silly girl, maybe you were sleepwalking then?” Christopher pointed in the direction of the exhibition and said, “Would you like to go and take a look? There are so many beautiful paintings on display and there are also advantages for you to look at other people’s paintings.”
“Great, let’s go now. I can’t wait. If I got it wrong, it will definitely impact my life.”
I hurriedly asked Christopher to drive us to the exhibition but when I saw the painting there, I was stunned and looked back at him in disbelief. Isn’t this the painting placed at home, covered by a canvas?
“Come closer, so you can see it clearly.” Christopher took my hand, walked down the corridor step by step; then, he pointed to the painting and said, “Look, it’s a perfect and beautiful painting. Otherwise, It will not be placed in the most central position.”
Gently and carefully, I stroked the picture frame. Then, my eyes fell on the picture and for a while, I felt a little teary.
The whole painting presented a dark gray mode. Even the background was a bleak grayish black. Dilapidated decomposing fallen leaves and the dried grass looked desolate. A bird perched on a tree lifted its head as if wailing in sorrow and the sky was covered with dense dark clouds, staining the ground with a dark brown tone.
A woman with disheveled hair was lying on the ground, facial features unseen. Under her feet was a huge gray-black whirlpool, as if about to suck her in as her feet had become blurred and were already partially inside the whirlpool. She raised her head to the man standing in front of her with the light of infinite hope shining in her eyes.
The man was a tall fair figure in bright colors contrasting sharply with the surroundings as if he was from another world.
His handsome facial features were exactly the same as Christopher’s with strong edges. He looked handsome, play boyish, and mischievous with an air of cynicism. However, his gaze at the woman on the ground was soft and gentle. His right hand was extended towards the woman and the sunlight breaking through the clouds shone on this outstretched hand, giving it a golden glow.
His slightly parted elegant lips seemed to say, “Come with me. I’ll take you away from this hell.”
I titled this painting “Salvation.” It was meant to be a gift for Christopher. When it was not finished, he wanted to see it every day. On the day it was completed, we were having conflicts. After that, we went for our honeymoon and until now, I have not had the time to tell him that the painting was done. So, it was to my utter surprise to see it exhibited here.
“This piece is my gift to you. Now that you’ve sent it here, it is no longer yours,” I murmured.
This painting expressed the feeling of seeing hope and redemption when I met Christopher in my desperate circumstances. At that time, I completely regarded him as my one and only hope.
“I am the man in this painting. How could it belong to anyone else? I’ve asked the organizers. They will display it for a while, after which, there will be a charity auction. I will buy it back, then hang it in our home,” Christopher said with a smile.
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