"I told you that I don't want anyone else to see them," I told her in need of more than just an apology, I needed an explanation.
"I could not burn those I kept. They were too beautiful to be disposed of like that," she explained guiltily.
I swallowed and looked away. With that guilty yet sorry pout, there was no way I could continue to scold her about it.
"Who else did you give the painting to?" I asked her seriously. It was difficult to keep speaking with the look she gave me.
"My cousin took one from the room. He saw them the last time he came to visit," she replied to me.
Once again, her cousin was mentioned. I don't know what the feeling of displeasure I got from her mentioning him in our discussions. Maybe I was jealous that there was another man she liked as she liked me.
