Chapter 31: Chapter 31

"DO you like it here, Claire?" Adam said beside me.

I blinked a few times as I stared at the establishment in front of me. Adam had brought me to a painting studio.

I turned to Adam, who was looking at me with a satisfied smile on his face.

"W-wow. I had no idea this is where you'd bring me." I never expected it.

Adam smiled at me. "Well, you told me you missed painting, so I came up with an idea to bring you here."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wanted to hug and kiss him, but I stopped myself. Instead, I just gave him a wide smile.

"Thank you so much, Adam. Really, thank you." I said in a sincere voice. Even if I couldn't see myself, I was sure my eyes were sparkling with happiness.

"Come on, let's get inside."

We both got a canvas and painted for ourselves. I was smiling from ear to ear when I picked up my paintbrush. It's been years since I last tried to paint.

"What are you doing to paint?" Adam asked beside me. Both of our canvases were still blank.

I pursed my lips. "I'll try to paint the island where we spent the weekend three months ago."

"Wow. I'm excited to see that." He smiled.

"Don't expect too much," I said. "I haven't painted for so long. I don't know if I'm still good." I looked at him. "What about you? What are you going to paint?"

He smiled. "Secret. You'll find out later."

I playfully rolled my eyes at him. "That's unfair."

He just chuckled at me before sipping from his glass of wine. The staff of the painting offered us free wine and cheese, but since I was pregnant, they gave me sparkling juice instead.

Before we started, he even moved to the seat across from mine. He said he didn't want me to see whatever he's painting.

I just shrugged. For the next two hours, I became fully occupied with the canvas and paint in front of me.

"Oh, wow. That looks good, Claire," Adam said, seeing my painting when he filled up his glass of wine.

"Thanks, Adam," I smiled at him. Even the staff praised me earlier.

I pursed my lips and looked at my canvas. I felt satisfied with what I had painted. I couldn't believe that after all these years, I still knew how to paint.

"What about yours, Adam?" I asked. "You still haven't shown it to me."

He chuckled. "I'm not finished yet."

After a few more touches, I was finally finished with my work.

"Adam, come on." I turned my head to Adam, who was already wiping his hand on the rag.

He chuckled a little. "Alright. Here it is."

He picked up his canvas and showed it to me.

My eyes widened when I saw what he painted. It was me. My face. He painted a portrait of me. And it looked so perfect.

"W-wow!" I blinked a few times as I stared at my portrait. My lips parted in shock.

Adam grinned sheepishly. "I made a portrait of you, Claire. I hope you like it."

I looked at him, my eyes still wide. "What the hell? Are you insane, Adam. This is perfect. I mean, look at this." I carefully examined the painting in front of me. "This is a work of perfection, Adam." My eyes went back to him again. "Are you a painter, Adam? You're so good!"

He chuckled. "Well, maybe because I have a perfect looking subject?"

I pouted my lips. "Shut up. You're just really good."

"Thank you again for today, Adam." I told him when we were in the car on the way home. After we left the paint house, we had dinner at the mall.

He glanced at me. "I'm glad you enjoyed our date."

My lips parted. Oh, so this was a date? I didn't know why, but I felt my heart thump inside my chest. I bit my lip to prevent myself from smiling.

"Wait. You didn't answer my question earlier. I asked you if you paint."

"Yeah," he said casually beside me. "I paint sometimes. My parents are both artists, Claire."

I turned to him. I realized he had suddenly turned serious. "My parents were both artists. My mom was a painter, and dad… he was a singer."

"Oh, wow," I muttered, quite shocked by what I'd learned from him.

"They met in a gallery, got married, and then had me," he continued. "But then they divorced when I was five. My mother left me to my father and pursued her dreams in Europe." He glanced at me and gave me a small smile. "That's why I grew up with my grandmother, Claire."

Oh, wow. Adam's mother was a painter.

"Your father was a singer, so you know how to sing?" I asked, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Nah. Unfortunately, I got my mother's talent."

I examined him. I could feel that he had ill feelings towards his mother.

"Your mother..." I muttered in a small voice. "You still communicate with her?"

"No. I stopped communicating with her when I entered university."

"She never comes to see you throughout the years?"

"Oh. She tried, Claire. It's me who refused to see her."

"Because you felt like she abandoned you?"

He smirked. "Well, she chose her dreams over me, over his family. My mother's a selfish woman, Claire."

Now. I understand. Maybe that's the reason why Adam didn't choose to pursue painting, even though he's really good at it.

I bit my lower lip. "But your mother. Do you know if she's still in Europe?"

"Yeah. I know where she is, but I don't have plans to reconcile with her soon."

He glanced at me. "You see, Claire. I'm different from you. I don't have the kind of heart that you have. I'm not kind enough to forgive and forget. I'm not family oriented."

I gave him a smile. "Well, our situations are different. You were abandoned by your mother. And I understand where you're coming from."

"Thank you, Claire."

"You're welcome, Adam. And thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."