When Love Turns to Ash Novel – Chapter 17
Chapter 17
“Do you know what it means?” I asked Mateo, my voice barely a whisper, gesturing to a recurring kintsugi motif in my latest design.
He looked at it for a long moment, then met my eyes.
“Kintsugi. The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.”
He paused, his gaze soft, knowing.
“It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. It’s about embracing the flaws, the scars. Rebirth through pain.”
Tears welled in my eyes. He saw it all. He saw me.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He smiled gently.
“Your upcoming exhibition for the award… I’m an architectural student, remember? I could help with the spatial design, the flow, if you’d like.”
His offer was genuine, his belief in my work unwavering.
“I… I’d like that very much, Mateo,” I managed.
We started working together, long hours in the studio, fueled by coffee and shared passion.
He challenged me, pushed me, but always with respect, with an intuitive understanding of my vision.
One evening, I hit a wall. Creative block, exhaustion, a gnawing dissatisfaction with everything I produced.
“It’s not right,” I sighed, crumpling another sketch. “It’s missing something.”
Mateo led me to his own small workspace, a cluttered, inspiring haven filled with models and blueprints.
In the center stood a miniature structure, a pavilion of light and shadow, breathtaking in its simplicity and elegance.
“This,” he said, his eyes shining. “This is for a competition. But the concept… perhaps it could inspire you.”
He generously offered me the use of his core design concept for my exhibition layout.
“Mateo, I can’t. This is your project, it’s important.”
He just smiled.
“Your exhibition is important too, Savannah. And collaboration… it makes everything better.”
The next day, he brought me a small, perfectly crafted physical model of his pavilion design, adapted for my exhibition space.
A clumsily tied red ribbon adorned the top.
He flushed slightly. “Sorry about the ribbon. First time I’ve ever tied one on a… building.”
His vulnerability was endearing.
I looked at him, at his kind eyes, his gentle smile.
“Mateo,” I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. “Why are you so kind to me?”
He looked down, then met my gaze, a shy but honest light in his eyes.
“Ben asked me to look out for you, when he knew I was coming to Florence. He worries about you.”
My heart warmed at the thought of my brother.
“But,” Mateo continued, a faint blush rising on his cheeks, “staying by your side, helping you… that’s become a very selfish motive of my own, Savannah.”
His unspoken words hung in the air, full of a promise that made my heart beat a little faster.