The Last Sketch

Chapter 2

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter.  I'm posting the next chapter rather quickly because its a short one.   Please do vote and comment - I love reading what you feel about the chapter.  Enjoy!

I walk up to my door and fumble for my house keys. It's been another late night at the office and before pushing the door open, I put my forehead on the door. I hate walking into an empty home.

It's always empty. I'd like to come home to someone. "How was your day?" I ask the empty walls.

The walls don't talk back no matter how many times I ask.

I walk towards the main wall in my living room and I stare at the sketches.

"It was shitty, but thanks for asking." I say to the sketches. The four black and white sketches of a woman's face who I can't even fully see. They're framed in black frames evenly spaced in my study.

"How was your day?" I laugh as I'm talking to the sketches of a woman I don't know.

"Here let me pour you a drink." I say hoping that's what the woman would say to me if she could step out of those sketches.

I lean near the sketch of the eyes looking directly at me, "Thank you darling. You always know what I need."

I walk to my bar and I pour myself a neat scotch.

"You know my boss is an ass. I probably should quit. I bring in a shit load of money to the firm. I'm the most billable attorney at the firm," I take a swig of the smooth Scotch.

"That's why I can't spend more time with you. Or why I can't meet a real woman who can pour me a drink. Until then you'll have to keep hearing my stories."

I shrug out of my jacket and take another sip of my expensive scotch.

"Do you get bored of always listening to me?" I ask rhetorically.

I slip off my shoes and slide into my favorite chair. I should probably order some dinner instead of drinking a scotch on an empty stomach. I close my eyes. I'm too tired to get up for food.

The phone rings and disturbs my one on one time with my mystery lady.

I look at the caller ID. The other woman in my life. I pick up the phone because I know she'll keep calling back until I do.

"Hello Mother."

"Hi Aditya. I'm so glad you're home. I was afraid I'd reach your machine again and you'd be working another very late night at the office."

"No, I'm home."

"Are you alone?"

"Of course, I'm alone. Who would be here with me?"

"I was hoping the woman you went out with last week was someone you'd be seeing again."

I groan. What a disaster of a date. The whole time I was with Janelle I kept thinking of my mystery woman in the sketches. I'd rather be drinking scotch with my paintings than talking to the woman live in front of me. Maybe I needed to see a shrink. It had been eighteen months since I bought the sketches. Since I bought the sketches my love life had gone downhill. Not that it was that great before, but I usually did interact with real woman. Now every real woman I compared to the woman in the sketches, or the image of the woman in the sketches, and they all fell short. I wanted a woman to look at me like she did. Like the last sketch. Like I was her whole world. Like I was the love of her life.