Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Ruin My Painting, Now He Regrets. novel Chapter 4

He remembered Victoria's cycle. He remembered her birthday.

He knew exactly how to spoil her with gifts. 

With her, he'd share an ice cream cone.

He'd kiss the back of her hand. He'd sneak out during work just to go shopping with her. 

He just never wanted to do those things for me. 

For the next two days, I didn't go home. 

I threw myself into my final gallery exhibition, ignoring Lucas's messages. 

At first, he acted like he was proud of me for being so "understanding" about Victoria. 

Then he started to get suspicious.

Chloe, what's going on? Why aren't you answering?

I scrolled through our old messages. 

Every conversation was the same. 

Me-pouring out paragraphs of effort. 

Him-barely responding. 

I typed out a single reply. 

Busy with work.

On the day of my art show, my assistant Emily suddenly called me. 

"Chloe, are we not displaying the final piece?" 

I frowned. "What do you mean?" 

Then she sent me a video. 

The second I saw it, my heart dropped. 

That painting I once cherished so much was now covered in thick streaks of dark red paint and splashes of random colors.

And in the only untouched space on the canvas was Victoria's arrogant, taunting scrawl:

"Wishful thinking!"

I froze, my mind blank on how to salvage the upcoming exhibit, when my professor suddenly spoke up.

"Chloe, back in college, you gave me your very first painting."

"I've kept it all these years. I remember its name-Rebirth."

"Sometimes, saying goodbye is just another kind of rebirth."

I gave Emily my professor's address, then turned to call Lucas.

My voice trembled, no matter how hard I tried to steady it.

"Lucas, Victoria ruined my centerpiece."

To my surprise, he picked up quickly.

"So what? It's just a painting. You have plenty more."

"Who-who did this?!"

Victoria smirked beside him.

"So this was supposed to be the grand masterpiece? Honestly, it's nothing special."

"Guess the writing on it was right-wishful thinking!"

Lucas followed her gaze to the words scrawled across the only clean spot on the canvas, written in red like a cruel brand.

A surge of rage shot through him.

Who the hell had done this?!

No wonder Chloe was devastated.

His chest tightened at the memory of her choked-up voice.

If he had known it was this painting, he never would have brushed her off.

Then he paused.

The handwriting-

He knew it.

He turned sharply to Victoria.

"You... was it you?"

"Did you destroy Chloe's painting?!"