An empty gold frame already stood in the entrance hall of the new house. Robert showed the artist where the portrait of him and his wife would hang. He wanted the painting to feel intimate, yet formal enough for entertaining business partners. He offered double the fee if she finished it before their wedding anniversary.
The artist, Nika, asked them to attend the first sitting together. Only Iva came. Robert sent an assistant with photographs and a message saying he had a meeting. In the pictures, Nika saw a woman in different dresses and a man whose hand always rested on her shoulder in the same way, as though it were the back of a chair.
Iva did not criticize her husband. She described his workload as though it were bad weather that could not be changed. While Nika sketched, Iva mentioned her love of old buses, journeys without reservations and kiosks selling cheap comic books. Nothing in Robert's house suggested any of it.
At the second sitting, Robert stayed for nine minutes. He gave Iva a bracelet and asked whether it would appear in the painting. Then he took a call. Before he left, Nika asked him to suggest a scene in which the two of them felt close. He listed hotels, resorts and restaurants where the staff knew them by name.
"And something you didn't pay for?" she asked. There was no mockery in her voice. Robert paused, looked at Iva and offered to bring a photograph of their first apartment. Iva said she could not remember where they had put it. She was already reaching for her phone to call the assistant when she lowered it back into her lap.
The portrait was not ready for the anniversary. Nika returned the extra fee, along with a simple sketch of two empty chairs. Robert angrily called the gallery that had recommended her. Iva interrupted him. For the first time, in front of someone else, she said the sketch looked more accurate than their photographs. In the next room, guests waited for cake.
The following day, Iva moved into a smaller apartment for a month to think about what she wanted. Robert visited by arrangement. One Saturday, he brought a bag of old comic books from the basement. Sitting at the kitchen table, he admitted finding them by accident and not knowing how much they meant to her. Forgiveness did not come immediately.
A few months later, they sat for Nika again. Iva still lived in her own apartment, but they saw each other and talked without their phones. In the painting, Robert listened as she showed him a torn comic-book page. They sold the gold frame. The portrait was smaller than they had planned, and for the first time, it truly belonged to them both.