The Genius Behind His Canvas

My boyfriend was a once-in-a-century artistic genius, while I couldn't even distinguish the most basic color schemes.

For seven years, he defended me in front of everyoneuntil that talented female artist named Quinn Snow appeared.

When I injured my leg and needed care, he spent the entire night helping Quinn revise her drafts.

When a thug followed me and I called him for help, he had to take Quinn's dog to the hospital first because it was having birth complications.

That day, when friends once again joked that he and Quinn were the perfect match,

Adrian no longer defended me like he used to. Instead, he smiled with regret in his eyes.

That evening, he even asked me at the dinner table:

"Why don't I ask Quinn to check with her doctor relatives to see if they can cure your color vision disorder?"

My hand froze while serving soup.

On the surface, Adrian was trying to save our relationship from an impending crisis.

But in reality, he had already fallen for another woman.

That's why he was starting to notice and resent my mediocrity.

I didn't answer Adrian's question. Instead, I smiled bitterly and asked him:

"Why do you always bring up Quinn Snow in front of me?"

Adrian froze for a moment, guilt flickering across his face. He explained:

"You know, right now she's the only one who can compete with me..."

Proud as Adrian was, he never would have explained himself like that before.

He used to say:

"Cece, my world only has paintbrushes and you. I don't have energy for anyone else."

But now, Adrian hadn't even realized it.

Quinn Snow's place in his heart had actually moved ahead of mine.

When I injured my leg and needed care, he spent the whole night helping Quinn revise her drafts.

When a thug followed me and I called him for help, he had to take Quinn's dog to the hospital first.

When I confronted him, he coldly retorted.

He said he didn't care about Quinnhe cared about art and life.

But Adrian, I told you long ago.

I can't tolerate even a grain of sand in my eyes.

Adrian's bluster completely ended when I showed him photos of him and Quinn embracing.

His expression changed, as if I had deeply betrayed his trust:

"You followed me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his reaction was excessive and hastily tried to cover it up:

"Quinn was drunk that time. I was just supporting her..."

Watching Adrian's clumsy performance, I forced down the ache in my chest and decided to fight for him one last time:

"If you still want to be with me, delete all of Quinn Snow's contact information and never see her again."

After hearing my words, Adrian first stared at me darkly for a while.

Then he stood up and, without warning, overturned the dishes onto the floor:

"All you do every day is cook and clean! You have zero connection to my art and can't understand the mutual appreciation between geniuses at all!"

"I've tolerated your mediocrity and incompetence, yet you want to interfere with my life ideals and social life!"

I said nothing, quietly looking at the shattered dishes on the floor.

Just like looking at the end of my relationship with Adrian.

His crazed expression was too ugly, too unfamiliar.

In those seven years of dating,

Adrian had always been cold and indifferent.

Aside from painting and me, he didn't care about anyone or anything else.

He had never been like thisjumping up in rage, face contortedas if I were taking away his most treasured possession.

I crouched down, touching a ceramic shard, my tone as calm as if discussing the weather:

"Adrian, let's break up."

My thoughts drifted back eight years.

The day I met Adrian, I was on the edge between life and death.

Severe depression made it hard to distinguish reality from illusion. I walked onto a bridge in a daze, looking down at the surging river that seemed to beckon me.

Adrian, who happened to pass by, noticed my state and pulled me back from the brink.

At that time, he was also at a low point in his life.

We encouraged each other, healed each other's wounds, and gradually became the most important people to each other.

Later,

Adrian stood at the pinnacle of the art world, while I became a stay-at-home girlfriend who only revolved around him.

Even so, he always stood up for me when others mocked or belittled me.

He took action to defend our love.

He told me firmly:

"Cece, don't worry about what others say. You'll always be one of a kind in my heart!"

I thought true love could overcome everything.

Turns out the expiration date on our love was only seven years.

Sharp pain brought me back to reality.

Adrian vented his anger by kicking the broken bowl at his feet.

The shards hit the wall not far from me, then bounced back onto my arm. Blood immediately started flowing.

Adrian panicked. He rushed over to check my injury, tears even welling in his eyes:

"I'm sorry, Cece. I shouldn't have treated you like that... I've hit a bottleneck recently, the pressure is just too much..."

While explaining, he frantically rushed me to the hospital.

In his urgency, the usually composed Adrian even lost his shoes three times.

He still seemed like the Adrian who would lose his composure for me.

But only I knew

We could never go back.

After watching the doctor treat my wound, Adrian went downstairs to buy me soup.

I held my phone and started clearing out the seven years of memories with Adrian stored inside.

That's when Quinn Snow appeared.

Come to think of it, this was our first direct confrontation.

She herself was like her paintingsbreathtakingly beautiful.

Quinn looked at me like I was an ant, getting straight to the point:

"A fool like you doesn't deserve Adrian. Break up with him now."

I laughed out loud, with no desire to argue with her, keeping my head down as I continued clearing my phone.

Seeing my indifference, Quinn shoved her chat window with Adrian in my face.

[Cece has changed. She never used to argue with me. Tonight she even deliberately didn't dodge the shards. It feels like she's playing the victim for sympathy.]

My heart clenched with pain.

Before, if I just accidentally bumped into something, Adrian would lose sleep all night from worry.

Now I had such a long gash, yet he thought I was playing the victim for sympathy.

Indeed

When a man stops loving you,

even if you hang yourself, he'll just think you're on a swing!

I blinked my eyes, desperately forcing back the tears.

Quinn continued scrolling up the screen.

I stayed motionless, masochistically viewing their chat history.

That Adrian who was always quiet and cold to everyone except me was actually interacting with Quinn every single day.

They shared paintings they loved, interesting things in life, even a weirdly shaped crooked tree.

I suddenly felt it was all quite meaningless.

I moved my gaze from the screen to Quinn's triumphant face, enunciating almost word by word:

"You shameless homewrecker."

The smile on Quinn's face briefly disappeared.

A moment later, she raised an even more provocative smile:

"Want to make a bet to see who Adrian trusts and cares about more?"

With that, she suddenly grabbed my hair and dragged me to the wall, forcefully slamming my head against it.

My right hand was injured and I was completely unprepared, so I couldn't break free from her grip at all.

Once, twice, three times.

Quinn only stopped after drawing blood.

Then she put on a panicked, frightened expression and stumbled toward the door:

"Doctor! Nurse! Where are you! Someone's self-harming here!"

Adrian, having received the message, rushed back.

I hadn't said anything yet when Quinn tearfully grabbed Adrian's sleeve:

"Adrian, you have to believe me. I didn't touch a single hair on Cece's head!"

After a long silence, Adrian comforted Quinn a few times before walking toward me with a complicated expression.

He glanced at the bandage wrapped around my head, as if asking a question he already knew the answer to:

"Cece, tell me the truth. Are you jealous that Quinn and I are kindred spirits in art, so you..."

"Slap!"

I interrupted Adrian's nonsense with a slap.

My left palm went numb from the impact, but aside from heartache, I couldn't seem to feel pain anywhere else in my body.

Was this the man I'd loved for seven years?

Quinn immediately rushed over and pulled the dazed Adrian away from me.

"Framing me is one thing, but Adrian just wanted to ask what happened. How could you hit him!"

She accused me while crying heartbroken tears:

"Adrian, sit here and don't move. I'll go find a nurse to get an ice pack..."

I gave them both a cold look and took out my phone to call 911:

"Don't rush to leave. Since you say I'm trying to frame you, let the police clear your name."

Quinn instinctively glanced at the ceiling.

I knew she was well aware there were no surveillance cameras in the hospital room.

But unfortunately, I'd suffered this kind of loss once before long ago.

So the moment Quinn approached me, I had already turned on my phone's recording function.

At the same time, I understood Adrian very well.

He was someone extremely protective.

The person occupying his thoughts was no longer me.

If I didn't wait for the police to arrive before presenting evidence, I wouldn't even have the chance to show it.

Quinn quietly waited for me to finish the call. She bit her lip pitifully, forcing a smile:

"It's okay, Adrian. As long as you believe me, that's enough."

"An honest person fears no crooked shadows. I believe the police will clear my name!"

Adrian looked at her with eyes full of sympathy for a good while, then turned to scold me:

"How did you become so vicious? Filing false police reports wastes public resources. When the police come, you explain it to them yourself!"

I laughed out loud:

"But Adrian, from the moment you came in until now, have I said a single bad word about Quinn Snow?"

Adrian froze, his face instantly showing traces of embarrassment and hesitation.

An indescribable exhaustion swept through my entire body.

I closed my eyes, no longer bothering with his excuses, quietly waiting for the police to arrive.

Quinn was someone who liked to seize the initiative. As soon as the police arrived, she immediately stepped forward and pointed at me accusingly:

"I just came to visit her out of kindness, and she suddenly ran and hit the wall herself, then blamed it on me!"

Adrian wore an apologetic expression:

"Sorry, officers. My girlfriend's been emotionally unstable lately. It might be related to the depression she had before..."

My heart jumped violently.

During the worst year of my illness, Adrian was most afraid of anyone mentioning those words in front of me.

When I was self-harming, he held me tightly. Even when cut by the sharp blade in my hand, he would tirelessly coax me again and again:

"Cece, you're not sick. You're just not very happy. I'll find a way to make you better, and you can't give up on yourself either!"

But now, to clear Quinn of suspicion,

he actually used my past trauma to attack and deal with me as if it meant nothing.

The police didn't immediately believe their story. He looked at me:

"Miss West, do you have anything to say?"

I smiled slightly and played the recording on the spot.