Derek fought the desire to break his wife’s trance. He realized the woman before him, on the floor with darkened fingertips and bare feet was the love of his life. And watching her in this state, almost drugged by her own creative muse, was Derek’s favorite aphrodisiac. The scent of her perfume mixed with charcoal filled his senses. Gripping the door jamb, Derek stopped his impulse to nuzzle her sexy exposed neck.

They had a beautiful king sized bed, in a large suite with a magnificent view on the other side of the condo. However, as Derek stood watching, he fantasized about taking his wife right there, right now on the wooden floor. Closing his eyes Derek thought about Sophia’s gaze, as they made love. He imagined her stunning gray eyes clouded with a blue haze as their passion ignited. Sadly, Derek realized, he hadn’t seen those blue clouds since New England.

That realization, combined with the woeful reverberation of saxophone music prompted him to turn silently toward the hallway. He couldn’t disturb her, not for his own desires. Seeing her in her state of euphoria was enough. He eased his way to their room and climbed into their large empty bed. Derek’s only solace, as he drifted off to sleep, was that Sophia was once again drawing.

The linen page filled with different shades of black and gray. Sophia bought colored chalk at the supply store, but charcoal seemed more appropriate. She wasn’t sure what propelled her to the art supplies store in Palo Alto. Perhaps it was her desire to see the numerous art studios in that area boasting wonderful exhibits. After all she’d received a postcard inviting her to one of the exhibits. It wasn’t really to her. It was one of those promotional mailings, but it intrigued her. While perusing the displays, she felt the familiar desire to create. It was so overpowering she couldn’t resist any longer.

It wasn’t that she’d been resisting. It was more like she’d put it away -- somewhere. Since coming to California there were more important things to do. She needed to be Mrs. Derek Burke. No, she wanted to be. However, with each passing day, Sophia questioned if she wanted to be Mrs. Derek Burke for her or for him. As an executive in a large and upcoming company, didn’t he deserve that? The pretense was draining. Sophia constantly argued with herself... if she wanted to be what Derek wanted, than why did she feel so unhappy?

While in an art studio on Hamilton Avenue in Palo Alto the curator approached, and they began talking. They discussed the displayed pieces and debated the use of mediums and color. With time Sophia revealed she too was an artist and mentioned her studio in Provincetown and exhibitions in Europe.

The gentleman asked to see her portfolio. It was at that moment Sophia realized it was still in Massachusetts. That realization struck her with unseen force. Her portfolio -- her life in synopsis -- was back on the Cape. She’d left her life to be with Derek.

Some of her better works were accessible through her website. She typed in the address and showed Mr. George her art. He appeared more than impressed.

“Mrs. Burke, I like your work. It has a fresh raw quality.”

“Thank you Mr. George. Please call me Sophia.”

“I want you to know this is out of character, to offer a position to someone without checking references, but I’ve recently found myself in need of a trusted employee.” Sophia listened, “I have space in the back where you could create, but mostly I need someone to look after the studio a few hours during the day. It would also require the occasional evening and weekend.”

Sophia didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t been looking for a job. Nonetheless, the past two weeks she’d felt like a fish out of water. The idea of being surrounded by art thrilled her. But at the same time, she knew Derek didn’t want her to work. He wanted her to be free to create. She wished she could explain how her new found freedom felt stifling.

“Mr. George, I’m honored. I really should discuss this with my husband. And you should know I plan to make some short trips to Provincetown during the summer. I hate having my studio closed throughout the busy time of year.”

“I understand. We can meet again to determine if details can be worked out. Would you consider shipping some of your work here, for display?”

She couldn’t help beam. It would have been impossible to hide the smile. “I’m truly honored. I’ll give it all serious consideration. Could I please contact you tomorrow?”

They made the necessary arrangements and Sophia took his number. The renewed excitement gave her the strength to purchase new supplies. She couldn’t wait to tell Derek. However, he called and told her he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Then there was the text message explaining his meeting was going longer than expected. She tried to busy herself while she waited.

Sometime during the evening Sophia found herself in the room he’d planned as her studio. Looking around she knew it needed to be organized. However, as she began removing the new items from the bags, she gave in to impulse. Although new, the charcoal felt smooth and amazing under her fingertips. Without thought or provocation she surrendered to the desire, and began to draw.

When the white page was no longer white, she sat back and looked at the whole of what she’d created. It was a beach with rolling clouds and rough seas, no place in particular and yet -- East Coast. Looking around the cluttered room Sophia wondered about the time. Surely Derek should be home by now. Making her way down the hall she found his shoes by the door. Sadness swelled in her chest, a muffled sob escaped her lips when she discovered him sleeping alone in their bed. Why didn’t he come down to her?