Solenne didn’t want to explain. She casually made something up. “Weren’t you going to fake our deaths and elope with me? I figured I’d get a head start on packing and get rid of what we don’t need.”
Rockwell’s expression relaxed, and he smiled. “Oh, I see. I see.”
After that, neither of them spoke. The air turned quiet.
Maybe he sensed that her mood wasn’t great. Rockwell thought for a moment, then he reached out and gently took her hand.
“Don’t be upset. Let’s go to an art exhibit, clear your head. There’s one downtown right now, and they’ve even put up some works by that famous Russian painter you love.”
Solenne had planned to say no—but when she heard that last part, she hesitated.
She really did love that artist’s work. His paintings rarely made it into exhibitions. It was a rare chance—she didn’t want to miss it.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Seeing her agree, Rockwell let out a quiet breath of relief.
Without wasting time, they got into the car together.
At the exhibit, Solenne finally managed a smile. Rockwell followed behind her, smiling too.
Whenever she stopped in front of a painting for more than two minutes, he would quietly call over a staff member and buy it for her on the spot.