Wife Or Mistress? The Shocking Truth About My Marriage - Chapter 130: Chapter 130

"Kenton, just smile once? You haven't smiled in ages."
I was leaning over the back of my chair, watching him.
It was almost dinner time, and everyone else had gradually left the studio.
But Kenton, with his perfectionist tendencies, wasn't done setting up his draft.
He had his arm resting on his knee, head half-propped on it.
Not even a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Kenton, come on. One smile for me."
I opened my phone's camera and aimed it at him. On screen was a clearly annoyed artist using his fingers to blend the drawing.
His gaze finally shifted to me.
He gave such a half-hearted smile that I quickly snapped the photo before he could change his mind.
Honestly, if he wasn't so damn good-looking...
...he could never get away with such a fake smile.
Back in my dorm, I pulled out my tablet.
I opened the photos I'd taken of Kenton that evening and started sketching.
The lighting had been perfect, really. And even though he wasn't genuinely smiling in the photos, I could make him smile in my drawing.
His lips should curve just so...
I can spend hours drawing and usually get tired, but when I'm drawing him, it's like I could go on forever.
In the final version, I softened his smile, made it more gentle.
He hasn't smiled at me like that in such a long time. Not for real.
I compared the photo with my drawing.
Then I opened Instagram, crafted the perfect caption:
[Next time I want to see Kenton smile like this in person.]
I had ulterior motives, I'll admit it.
Women are naturally possessive creatures, right? Now that he was internet famous, the number of people eyeing him had multiplied.
I wanted everyone to know he was mine.
But minutes after I posted it, while I was getting likes from friends, Kenton commented:
[Fucking idiot.]
Just that. Two brutal letters.
My hand trembled as I sniffled, quickly deleting the post.
I opened our chat and texted him:
[Are you mad at me?]
[Did I upset you again?]
[Just say something, Kenton...]
But nothing came back. Not even at 1:30 AM.
Complete silence.
The next morning, I got up early and headed to the studio looking for Kenton.
Of course, he wasn't there.
His drawing on the easel was mostly finished, which meant he'd definitely been there working late after ignoring my texts.
I sat down in his spot.
Kenton usually preferred charcoal for his sketches—it helped him work quickly and create those dramatic light and shadow effects he was known for.
His was born with a paintbrush in his hand – the guy practically bleeds talent.
I was trying to decipher something from his unfinished work, barely making sense of the charcoal dust floating on the paper when suddenly a shadow fell over me.
Kenton was practically half-encircling me, reaching around to grab a tissue and blend part of the drawing.
I looked up at him, but his eyes were fixed on his work, not on me.
"Kenton, why didn't you answer my texts last night?" I tugged gently at his sleeve.
He finally lowered his gaze to meet mine.
"No reason."
"I was being an ass."
The outline of his brow bone was so defined, his thin lips pressed into a hard line.
His eyes practically screamed "deal with it."
I sighed. He knew I was powerless against him. At least for now.