He dumped me in August. After seven years, he left me the same way he had left the previous one: fast and by phone. He needed "a week on his own to think." (Note to self: take an inventory of the words men use for the denouement, a glossary of separation). According to a rumor, my predecessor had become temporarily deaf in the ear that had heard the fateful news. I didn't. But I did write to P. to ask him if he was certain he wanted to leave. Out of sorrow? More likely, in a vain and absurd attempt to rewrite our story and give its conclusion more panache. He didn't want to play.
About The Gallery
Founded in Paris in 1990 by Emmanuel Perrotin, then 21 years old, the gallery has become one of the most