A month later.
When I arrived at Ashville, I received an unexpected call from my bank. Informing me that a staggering $100 million had been transferred to my account. The sender? Ethan Marcel.
At first, I was upset, I felt insulted and annoyed that he felt I could easily be compensated, but when I thought about it, I realized I deserved it and more.
I moved back to my family house, struggling to conceal my depression from my father.
He had no idea I was pregnant, so how could I possibly tell him that I had a miscarriage and might have killed someone?
The weight of those secrets bore down on me, suffocating my spirit.
Living each day was a struggle. I used the art gallery as a distraction, pouring myself into my work to escape the memories of New York.
I told my father nothing about what happened, only that Ethan and I were no longer together.
He also didn’t press me on the details, I guess he could tell just how heartbroken I was.
I made a promise to myself to forget Ethan and everything that happened, but it was a promise I found almost impossible to keep.
His presence lingered in every corner of my mind, I found myself staring at my phone waiting for a call or message, anything from him.
Even after a week, I couldn’t get over the nightmares of what happened with Jake and my baby. I tried to visit a therapist but the closest therapist in the area was my high school ex.
How could I pour all this to someone who had known me personally?
“Put the painting over there” I instructed Denise as I walked into the gallery, this was the only place that could distract me but even it reminded me of Ethan, everything did.
he had managed to fuse himself into my life just to disappear when I needed him the most, how unfair.
“I am going to my studio, please don’t disturb me” I instructed walking into my private studio.
This had been my routine, I walk into the studio and make a mess of a painting.
As I sat in the studio painting, my mind drifted back to Ethan.
The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, it all felt so real, so genuine. But now, it felt like a cruel joke. Anger surged through me, hot and unrelenting. I pressed the brush harder against the canvas, the bristles bending under the pressure.
“I was a victim,” I thought to myself, I had let everything go for him. even had problems with my family, all for what? The hurt cut deep, sharper than any blade.
I felt used, discarded like an old toy, the trauma of what happened with Jake haunted me day and night, and still I couldn’t tell a soul.
Tears began to blur my vision as I thought of how much I had stayed beside my phone waiting for his call, painting was supposed to be a distraction, I wanted to focus on my art gallery so badly and make something of myself but everything reminded me of Ethan.
“Urgh!” I yelled throwing the brush away before smashing the painting on the ground.
“I hate you!” I said to the painting of Ethan I made unconsciously.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you” I yelled feeling better after each smack.
Out of breath, I stared at the painting feeling a little better.
“Is everything okay?” I heard a voice say from the door and I turned to find Denise staring at me with worried eyes.
“I told you not to disturb me,” I said looking at my hands and the shattered painting on the floor.
“What do you want” I wondered, wiping my tears with my messy hands, this wasn’t the first time I cried in my studio, I always did so comfortably thinking it was soundproof.
“I am sorry Emily, I just wanted to inform you that, that man is here again,” she said, still lingering by the door in such a way that only her head was popping out and the rest of her body leaning by the other end of the door.
“what man” I wondered, I wasn’t expecting any guests.
“The man who comes here every day asking to see you” she explained and I sighed.
“O!! That man” I breathed, a strange man I had met at the hospital had been stalking me, he was always coming to the gallery asking to please have a moment to talk to me.
“You know my reply, Denise,” I said wondering why she always bothered to tell me about his presence.
“I know Emily, but this time, I think you should change it,” she said and I shook my head.
“Just tell him what I ask you to” I insisted glancing at her before looking back at the mess on the floor.
I bent down picking up the broken canvas and paint brushes trying to clean the mess when I felt heavy eyes on me.
“What are you still doing here Denise,” I said glancing at Denise whose eyes were glued to me.
“I am not going to tell him that you are unavailable,” she said with a stern voice.
“doesn’t that make him buy our paintings at ridiculously high prices just to impress me, it’s good business if you ask me,” I chuckled lightly trying to find humor in it but Denise didn’t.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Denise said. “He is also very handsome” she felt the need to add and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah right, nice guy” I mocked, “Ethan seemed nice too” I scoffed.
“Please Denise, I have things to do, if you can’t tell him to go, then let him wait it out,” I said getting to my feet and throwing the painting in the trash.
“You of all people know what I went through with Ethan, I would expect you to understand if I never want to see another man again,” I said, Denise was the only person I explained everything to, somehow working together had made us closer.
“Yes, that’s why I think you need the distraction” she suggested.
“For the last month you have been here every day trying to forget Ethan, you lock yourself in this room, cry your eyes out, and still come out with a massive wound in your chest,” Denise said as she began to preach.
“It’s clear that doesn’t work, so why not try another approach, dress up, go out with a total stranger or a friend, and try to have fun,” she said her voice raising above its pitch, as she got into her preaching mood, she always sounded like a motivational speaker when she did and it made me smile.
“I think a speech like this is the reason I got into this mess,” I said remembering how Jennifer told me to let loose which led to my meeting with Ethan.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” she began to sing, making me chuckle.
“I am guessing you are not going to stop singing until I agree right?” I asked and she nodded, singing loudly was her way of getting what she wanted.
“Fine, fine,” I said and she stopped singing.
“Where is he?” I asked following her out of my studio as we both walked to the art gallery.
“Over there,” She said pointing at a tall man who stood in front of a painting staring keenly at it.
“Fine just one date and you promise to never sing again,” I asked and she nodded with a sheepish smile.
“Urgh!!” I sighed, walking to the man.
“Hello, how may I help you,” I said to the tall-haired man as soon as I got close enough.
“Emily,” he said turning to reveal a warm beautiful smile plastered on his face.
“Yes, you have been here every day trying to talk to me right?” I blurted and his warm smile turned to a sheepish smile as he nervously placed his hands on his hair.
“How may I help you” my voice deepened, I tried to sound strict to scare him off but instead the fool just blushed.
“I don’t know if you remember but we met at the hospital” he stuttered and I nodded,
“ah han”
“I know this sounds silly but I was hoping I could get to know you some more,” the man said and I rolled my eyes at him putting one hand on my waist.
“You have been here what? Every day?” “don’t you have work to do” I scolded, this wasn’t what Denise and I agreed on but at the moment men irritated me.
“I am a doctor,” he said handing me his card, I snatched it away from his hands and stared.
“Dr. Wayne Richard” I read to myself, his card showed he was a plastic surgeon.
“Are you in search of clients or what, why are you bugging me?” I scolded, continuing with my rudeness.
“Not, In my professional opinion there is absolutely nothing to change about you, you are perfect” he flirted and I rolled my eyes frowning my face, what a cheesy line.
“I am here to ask you on a date, I would like to get to know you Emily” he went straight to the point in a soft tone.
“No!” I shook my head about to refuse when I heard the sound of Denise clearing her throat.
“Ehem” she coughed standing by the end of the hall staring at me with widened eyes.
“Fine, but just coffee, let’s go,” I said quickly walking out of the door confidently as he followed.
We walked to the cafe across the street and not until I had gotten to the one-way mirror did I realize I was still wearing my apron and my whole body was messed with paint.
“O! My God,” I said staring at myself in the window, I looked like a child who played with paint.
“Why didn’t you tell me I looked like a mess” I wondered talking to Wayne who just smiled at me.
“Because you look perfect to me,” he said the cheesiest line, but this time it made me laugh, such a liar.
“It must be part of your job to lie to women because you do it so well” I chuckled, laughing at my messy self and the lying man beside me.
He joined in the laughter, letting out a small gentleman laugh. “You are perfect Emily,” he said in the most seductive voice, slightly narrowing his eyes which made it even more sexy.
For a second his words took my breath away before I laughed it off again.
“I need to go back to my office to change, can we do dinner instead” I requested resolving to give this man a chance.
“I would love that” he replied with a warm smile, again almost taking my breath away.
“What is wrong with you Emily” I thought to myself trying to ignore his glittering brown eyes.
“So, can I have your number or…” He asked and I pulled out my phone.
“I would take yours, I would call you and tell you where to pick me up” I said I didn’t want to give him my number just in case I changed my mind.
I unlocked my phone, and as I was about to type out his number a message came into the phone, a message from Ethan.