The weekend arrived with Mom still away on her trip. The house felt quieter, more intimate. Just Vincent and me.
I was struggling hard with my final college project a large-scale digital illustration that combined architecture and emotion. The deadline was looming, and nothing I tried felt right. Vincent noticed my frustration during breakfast.
“Bring it to my office,” he said simply. “We’ll work on it together.”
I hesitated, but the offer was too good to refuse. By late afternoon, we were both in his sunlit office. Blueprints and my digital tablet covered the big table. Vincent had rolled up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms as he leaned over my work.
“Try adjusting the perspective here,” he suggested, his voice calm and focused. “It’ll give the buildings more weight and make the
