Chloe leaned against his chest, her eyes flicking over to me as she purred,
"Julian, don't be like this. Elena will get the wrong idea."
He shot a warning look at me. "You've always been so understanding, Elena. Right?"
"Chloe and I are at a critical stage in our creation. It's only natural for me to give her extra attention."
I nodded numbly, just wanting to get out of there.
I was once a rising star at the Pratt Institute.
To fully support Julian's work, I had put down my own paintbrushes.
At his first solo exhibition, Julian had declared in front of the media that I was his one and only muse, that with me by his side, he would never need another woman.
But now, for the sake of his art-at-all-costs philosophy, he was forcing me to compromise, again and again.
I couldn't stand to watch another second of their cloying artist-muse performance, so I cut in coolly.
"I'm tired. You two should get some rest."
Julian gave me an approving smile and helped Chloe out of the room.
Soon, low whispers and the rustle of clothing drifted from the studio.
Like countless nights before, the sounds frayed my nerves, leaving me sleepless.
"Julian, you should still try to talk to Elena tomorrow. I don't want to be the reason your relationship is ruined."
Chloe's tone was deceptively considerate.
Julian, his voice thick with desire, replied, "Don't worry about her. She knows her place."
The next morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of my son, Leo, crying.
I rushed out of the bedroom barefoot, only to see my son's small form kneeling in the center of the studio.
The screen of his iPad was shattered, and all the drawings he had stored on it were gone.
My heart clenched, so tight I could barely breathe. I ran over and held him tight.
"Leo, who did this?"
The moment I spoke, Chloe's aggrieved voice rang out.
"Elena, you need to get your son under control. He just tried to destroy my portrait!"
"If I hadn't noticed just in time, Julian's most important piece would have been ruined."
I was trembling with rage. "You're lying! Leo loves his art. He would never destroy a painting."
Julian was carefully inspecting the half-finished portrait, his eyes filled with lingering fear.
"Elena, what's with all the yelling? Chloe is the muse. She can't be disturbed by this nonsense."
"If our son is misbehaving, that's a failure on your part as a mother!"
He looked at me as if I were the one being unreasonable.
Holding my still-sobbing son, I endured the searing pain in my chest and retorted.
"Check the security cameras in the house! See who's really lying!"
"Ask your precious muse if Leo ever even touched her painting!"
Julian froze, his eyes instinctively darting to the security camera in the corner. He hesitated.
