"Well in that case, I should leave." I put the wine glass down, even though I had barely touched it."Don't go I'm sorry," he said while I put my light...eight sweater on."No, you are right, I am in the wrong place. Goodnight." Bitch," he said just loud enough for me and the bartender to hear."Quite possibly," I replied simply and walked to the door. I glanced back to make sure he wasn't following before I headed out to my car. I drove home planning what I would say to my friend. The one who. ‘What?’ ‘I like my focal point. I get that you don’t really see it now but I’m hoping that when I paint it, it will become a little more obvious.’ I was staring at his hands. I never noticed before how big and rough they looked. I looked at my paper again, trying to pry my focus somewhere else. ‘You do what you think is best and we’ll see how it turns out.’ When I looked up to look at him, he stuck his hand on mine. Most likely trying to show support in my decision. All of a sudden, it was. More

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