I took in my friend. He’d always been hard on himself, but this seemed like something else entirely. “What’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. There was an almost…frenetic energy to him. As if he couldn’t be still. “This doesn’t come as easily to me as it does to you. I’m always searching for something that will inspire a piece or series. Trying to do something that’s new and original.”

“It’s not a walk in the park for me either.”

Frustration flashed across Carson’s expression before he schooled it. “You always have a million and one ideas. You have a hard time narrowing them down.”

That was true. But I’d struggled this past year. More than struggled. Things hadn’t seemed to fall into place until I met Shay. Followed that pull between us that had led me down an entirely new path in my art. Instead of being so focused on the darkness that people hid away, my work had become more balanced. I was still exploring all the things people concealed, the good and the bad, but my world was less black and white. Instead, it was full of colors in every shade. Shay had given that to me.

I turned my focus back to Carson. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Everyone loved the installation. I hung back from the crowd and overheard two art critics raving about it.”

“Really?” I saw a flicker of hope in Carson’s gaze.

“I wouldn’t lie about that. But who cares what they think? Do you like it?”

He took some time to take in the entirety of the work. Then he grinned. “I fucking hate it.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “I think it’s time for you to make some art for yourself. No one else. I can’t tell you the kind of freedom I’ve felt doing that.”

Carson sighed. “You might be right. I’m just not sure what I want to do or where I want to be—”

“You’re thinking of leaving New York?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. And I don’t have a little caretaker to light my way.”

My chest tightened at his words. “It definitely helps.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed. “What was that look?”

“What look?” It was hopeless to try and deny the pain I was sure had flashed across my expression. Carson and I had too many years of shared friendship between us.

“Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been in a foul mood since you got into town. I thought it was because you knew reporters would be at the opening, but it’s something else.”

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “I fucked up.”

“With your caretaker?”

“She has a name.”

“Sorry, with Shay?” he asked, drawing her name out.

“Yeah,” I grumbled.