It’s been two days since I left Josh’s house, and I miss him more than I could’ve imagined and certainly more than I should. I miss having his arms around me and our bodies moving together. I hadn’t realised how alone I’d really been.
I haven’t spoken to Mereki, and it’s better that way. I need to stop craving him like a drug-addicted junkie, always looking for another hit. I am on the right road now, and it’s time to set him free, too. I know it will be the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do, but regardless of what we are or aren’t, we owe it to each other to part ways properly. I will keep my promise to be at our place by the river four days after my birthday, and I know he will, too. I’ve held onto him too tightly and I see that now.
“There’s someone here to see you, Emerson,” Carrie says as I pull a tray of cupcakes from the oven.
My heart seizes, hoping Josh has arrived in the city early but knowing it’s unlikely. He told me on the phone last night he had plans with Todd this afternoon and would pick me up after work for an early dinner before class. I hope it isn’t awkward for him to have me in his class given what transpired between us over the weekend, because I want to be there for the art as well as for him.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Madeleine Gibson from the gallery down the road. She’s having a coffee on one of the outside tables, and she asked for you.” In an uncharacteristically friendly tone, Carrie adds, “It’s quiet, so why don’t you just finish up now and join her?”
“Okay, thanks.” I remove my apron, grab my bag from the shelf, and go through to the shopfront to meet Madeleine.
“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by when you’re at work,” she says when she looks up and sees me. “I was just hoping we could have a quick chat.”
“Carrie said I can finish up now, so I’m all yours,” I reply, taking a seat opposite her. “What’s up?”
“I don’t really know how to say this,” she says, shifting awkwardly in her chair.
Her tone puts me on edge, and I swallow hard. “What’s wrong?” Then my stomach clenches. “Is Josh okay?” I don’t know why I ask her that, but they are friends and maybe something happened, and she is about to break some awful news to me. Tears prick my eyes, and I start to shake.
Her eyes are swimming with turmoil. “Josh is fine. This does involve him though.”
I shake my head. “Please tell me what’s going on. You’re kinda scaring me.”
She meets my gaze. “You told him about your drawing.”
I nod. “I did. How did you know?”
“Josh called me today wanting to talk about your art.”
I sit up straighter, not liking where this is going.
“He wants to help you, Emerson.”
“I never asked for his help.”
She holds her hands up in front of her. “I know you didn’t, and I don’t think you ever will.” She raises an eyebrow. “But I’ve never heard him so passionate about anyone before.”
“I’m only just finding my passion for art again.” I cringe at my words. “I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful, but this is all a bit overwhelming.”
“I’m not going to help unless you ask me directly. You’re an adult, and I think there’s a very good reason why you gave it up in the first place. But that’s not exactly what I came here to talk about.”
“Oh,” I say, clenching my teeth.
“Josh is like a son to me, Emerson. I know he has romantic feelings for you, and I’m worried he’s going to get his heart broken.”
I open my mouth to speak, then close it again.
“Why doesn’t he know you have a boyfriend?” she asks in a stern tone.
My head snaps up as my past crashes head-on into my present. “What?” My mind runs at a million miles an hour.
“You told me Mereki is here in Melbourne, so why does Josh think he stands a chance with you?”
Mustering the only shred of calm I have left, I say, “I’m really not sure this is any of your business, but Mereki and I have been over for a long time now.”
“Don’t let Josh be your rebound. He deserves more than that.” She leans forward and takes my hands in hers. “Tell him the truth, Emerson. It will set you both free.”
I nod, now realising that I will have to tell Josh about Mereki sooner rather than later or Madeleine will. But how will I tell him? What will I tell him? “I don’t want to break his heart, Madeleine. I care about him, and I’m in unchartered territory.”
“That’s all very well, but both Mereki and Josh deserve the truth.”
I glance at my watch. “I’ll tell him.” I wrinkle my nose. “Soon.”
She stands, smiling. “Good. I think you and Josh could make a lovely couple. I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out with that handsome boy, Mereki, though. I only met him that one time, but there was something about him that I’ve never forgotten. It was like he was an old soul, and he was clearly besotted with you. I’m not surprised you’re having trouble letting him go for whatever reason, but you’ve found another amazing man in Josh.” She hugs me, then pulls back to look me directly in the eyes. “You’re a lucky girl, Emerson Hart.”
Lucky. Am I lucky? I give her a sad smile because I don’t have the mental fortitude for anything more.
“Good luck, sweetheart,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder before floating away with her trademark grace. There really is something strangely ethereal about the woman.
I sit on my own for a few more minutes before deciding I need to walk for a while to clear my head. I am rattled by the conversation I had with Madeleine, but at the same time, I feel brave and ready to make a change.
Turning left, then left again, I make my way along the tree-lined street. I pull my phone out and send a text to Josh telling him I finished early and will meet him at his mum’s house instead of at work. Josh had suggested we have dinner there as it’s walking distance to the gallery, and there really aren’t any restaurants close by other than very fancy ones that don’t offer a quick, casual bite at six in the evening.
After taking the long way, I make my way up Sarah’s path. She’s at her friend’s house, so I sit on her tiled steps and wait. My phone beeps, alerting me to a text.
Josh Holland: On my way. Spare key under the black flowerpot next to the front door. See you soon. I’ll bring dinner. X
The swarm of butterflies that took up residence in my stomach the day I met Josh take flight. I’m not sure if it’s the casual ease of the message or the kiss at the end. Perhaps it’s a combination. The man makes me feel alive, and when you know what it feels like to be a breathing corpse, you want to hold on to that feeling. You want to hold on to it and never let go.
Me: Thanks. I’ll let myself in. x
Is tonight the right time to tell him about Mereki? Perhaps I can play it by ear given he has a class to teach and see how it pans out. Is this cowardice or thoughtfulness? I have no idea, but what I do know is I don’t want to hurt this beautiful man who has been nothing but the perfect gentleman, unaware of my situation or inner turmoil. That must change, and it must be me who enlightens him. If he hears it from anyone other than me, we stand no chance of a future together. But the only person who knows my past and present is Madeleine, and she was kind enough to warn me. And she was right. I had my head in the sand hoping I could muddle my way to the day Mereki and I would say goodbye.
Lucky. The word Madeleine used to describe me is on repeat in my head. Despite growing up with an uncaring, distant mother and a cruel stepbrother, I do feel lucky. I’ve developed my own resilience to outside forces beyond my control, I’ve found my own art, and “lucky” sounds like the biggest understatement to describe how I felt about meeting Mereki. The unparalleled friendship, the unwavering support, the beautiful stories, the love. Without him, I was a resilient warrior. With him, I was more. I discovered what it means to be loved. I discovered what it means to truly love someone with all your heart and soul.
Despite preparing myself over the coming weeks to say goodbye to him, I believe our love is unconditional. We will love each other forever, and there is a big part of me that is fearful for myself and for Josh that you can only love like that once. Josh has made me feel again, and that has given me so much hope. That fateful day five years ago ripped Mereki and me apart, and it was stupid of me to believe he’d stay when he needed to go.
Swiping a few rogue tears off my cheeks, I stand and retrieve the spare key from under the pot where Josh had told me it would be. Once I let myself in, I lean against the door for a few beats. Memories of the day I delivered cupcakes come flooding back. I was awestruck by Monet’s painting hanging above the hall table.
Oh my God. My drawing is within these walls somewhere. Imagine if I’d seen it that day. I’m paralysed by the idea that it’s somewhere close right now.
I make my way down the hallway to the kitchen where I’ve been before and drop my bag on the island bench. Looking around, I decide to wait for Josh outside where I can’t accidentally come across my drawing. I know it’s just a piece of paper, but it holds so much significance, both good and bad. I don’t know how I’ll react to seeing it again in the family home of the man I’m falling in love with.
Sitting down at the outdoor table, I contemplate my feelings for Josh. Am I falling in love with him? Am I already in love with him? I shake my head, hoping to jostle the scattered pieces of my mind into some kind of manageable chaos. I can’t think like this. I need to say goodbye to Mereki once and for all before I can give myself fully to Josh. If I thought I could stay away from Josh until such time, I would. But I don’t want to stay away from him now that I’ve felt his lips on mine, his hands on my body, and his eyes stripping my shield. Instead of seeing broken pieces, he sees the warrior within.
The front door closes and the butterflies take flight again.
“Emerson?” Josh’s voice calls out down the hallway.
I stand and walk back inside. “In the kitchen,” I reply.
He appears seconds later, and the moment our eyes meet, I suck in a breath. He is so incredibly handsome in ripped jeans, a plain, brown T-shirt, and with his dark blond hair tied back in a short ponytail. All these superficial traits pale in insignificance to his smile reaching his emerald eyes as he closes the distance between us, barely pausing to deposit the takeaway food bags on the benchtop.
He stops directly in front of me and tucks a few loose strands of my hair behind my ears. I’m like a deer in the headlights, unable to move or respond, thanks to a heady combination of intoxicating lust, deep fear, and relief that he wants me.
Holding my face in his hands, he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”
I smile. A genuine upturn of my mouth that gives him the green light to take what he now believes is his.
His kiss is soft at first. Our closed mouths meet in a sweet reunion of past intimacy but with the excitement of new lovers. I wrap my arms around his neck at the same time his tongue seeks entry to my mouth. When I grant it, he groans, placing one hand on the back of my head to pull me impossibly closer to him. I’m crazed with lust for this gorgeous man who has held a part of me close for the past five years and is working on the rest of me piece by piece. I wonder how he’ll feel when I tell him there will always be a piece missing.
With that depressing thought, I pull back and whisper, “I missed you, too.” It is the truth, and I promise myself right then and there that Josh will only get honesty from me from this point forward.
He kisses me once more lightly. “How are you?” he asks. “And more importantly, did you bring me any cupcakes?”
I scrunch up my face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot.” I had selected the ones I know are Josh’s favourites but hadn’t taken them with me when Madeleine asked to see me.
“I can think of something else I’d rather for dessert anyway.” He winks, chuckling to himself.
I roll my eyes. “How cliché of you, Mr Holland.”
“Cliché?” He gasps in mock horror. “You can accuse me of many things, Ms Hart, but cliché is not one of them.”
I move next to him and nudge his arm with my shoulder. “I never said you were cliché. I said that cheesy line was.”
“I’m kidding.” He kisses the top of my head, then proceeds to divide the takeaway between two plates. “Red or white wine?”
“White, please,” I reply, moving over to the open shelves where I spied the upturned wine glasses on display.
It’s turned a bit too cold to eat outside, so I follow Josh into the dining room. It feels far too formal for takeaway and ripped jeans.
“My lady,” Josh says, pulling out one of the twelve covered seats from the long, dark wooden table.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” I reply, chuckling at his over-the-top chivalry. I can’t deny how much I enjoy his attention.
I track his every movement, and I’m getting to know him with every gesture he makes with his brilliant hands, every smile he gifts, and every word that comes out of his beautiful, talented mouth. I’m not in love with him because I’m not ready yet, but I want to be, and that is a startling revelation.
He points his fork at the food on his plate. “I hope you’re not fussy because I had no idea what to order. I just made a few executive decisions.”
I shake my head. “Not fussy. I rarely get takeaway, so it’s a bit of a treat.”
He holds his hand over his heart. “This is the best Thai food in Melbourne. You have to try the green curry.” He picks up his fork and scoops some rice and chicken drowning in some sort of milky sauce.
I open my mouth and allow him to feed me. The second the flavours hit my taste buds, I wince. “It’s okay,” I say, reaching for the water glass.
Josh devours everything on his plate, and I find the more of the curry I eat, the more I like it.
“You know I don’t know if I can be with someone who doesn’t like Thai food.” He is joking, but he has put our relationship status on the table even if he didn’t mean to.
“Where do you see this going, Josh?” I ask, unable to resist turning the conversation serious. I wave my hand from him to me. “Us.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I feel the weight of his gaze on me. I don’t know if he’s considering his response or analysing my question. Maybe both.
“You haven’t noticed,” he says. Not what I was expecting him to say at all.
“I haven’t noticed what?” I ask, confused.
He gestures to the right with his head, but his eyes never leave mine. “What’s hanging over the fireplace over there.”
I freeze, immediately knowing what I’ll see when I turn my head. “That isn’t an answer,” I say, unable to hide the tremble in my voice.
“You asked where I see this going, and I’m going to tell you.” He stands and walks over to the fireplace. “When my father died, I lost my way completely. I became a barely-functional shell as I tried to find reason in the mayhem. He was a young and seemingly healthy man in his prime looking forward to the golden years with the love of his life.”
I push my chair back and stand. Moving across the carpet without lifting my gaze, I stand next to him. I place one hand on the mantle and the other on his arm. “It must’ve been really hard for you and your family.”
“One minute he was here, laughing and holding Mum’s hand while they watched a funny movie together on the couch, and the next he was gone. Deleted. Erased. Just . . . gone.” He looks down at me with pain in his eyes. “How is that fair?”
I shake my head. “No one ever said life was always fair.” I bite my bottom lip, knowing I should be trying to broach the subject of Mereki, but wanting to see where he’s going with this.
“For years, I struggled to come to terms with Dad’s death. I went to art school, and I owe Madeleine an awful lot for her support, but I felt adrift.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, Josh.”
“I’ll get there. Be patient, Ms Hart.”
I hold up my hands. “Sorry. Continue.”
He glances up at my framed drawing. “The day I saw your drawing for the first time was rock bottom for me. I was planning to give up on my art despite having an offer to exhibit at a gallery in London. I know it sounds odd, but I felt my world shift on its axis when I opened the packaging that was protecting your drawing. It whacked me in the face with the emotion. I’d never experienced anything like it.”
“It’s strange for me to hear this.” I glance up at it and stare, incredulous that a piece of paper with my pencil marks on it could mean so much, not only to me, but to this man, too. “I never meant to sell it, you know. For a long time, I regretted that decision so much, it consumed me.”
“I can understand you not wanting to part with something that is obviously personal, but I’m really grateful you did. You see, at the time, it felt like it had been sent to me directly. Kind of like a lifeline. I didn’t know you or anything about why you drew it the way you did, but it gave me something I needed.”
“I’m really glad it helped you, Josh.” I pause, trying to process everything he’s saying. “Do you feel indebted to me or something? Is that why you want to be with me?”
He jerks back. “Why would you say that? We’d already spent the night together when I found out you were the artist. Remember?”
I drop my gaze from the drawing to my feet, feeling guilty for my thoughtless question. “I’m sorry. I’m just coming to terms with all of this.”
“I still haven’t answered your question.”
I nod, barely remembering what it was.
“You asked me where I see this going,” he says as if he’s read my mind. “All I see is you, Emerson. Your drawing showed me how to find happiness in my life again, and it’s you. It held me over until I got the real thing, and I’m not letting you slip through my fingers.” I choke back a sob. “The light and shade, the strength, the resilience. The perfect imperfections. All you.”
“That was a very long answer,” I say, smiling despite my tears.
“The short answer is that I’ve been falling in love with you for years now, and I only see my future with you in it.”
Happy tears block my vision, but I feel his arms around me, and I feel his warm breath on my neck.
“We’re going to be late for class,” he whispers.
My whole body tenses. I’ve run out of time to tell him what I really need him to know.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling back and holding me at arm’s length so he can look me in the eye.
I chew on my bottom lip, madly debating in my head whether to broach it now. “I need to tell you something about my past.”
His eyes soften. “You can tell me anything, Emerson.”
I nod, still chewing on my poor, innocent lip. “We don’t have time now, but I want you to know I trust you and there’s something I’ve been keeping from you. I don’t think you’ll like it, but I’ll need you to try to understand if you really want me in your future.”
His brow furrows. “It definitely sounds like a conversation we need to have when we’re not running late.” Glancing up at the drawing, he sighs. “I trust you, too.”
We take the plates and wine glasses back to the kitchen where he hurriedly stacks them into the dishwasher. I give the bench a quick wipe down, then grab my bag. Part of me wishes I’d explained everything to him, but we moved forward, and I will tell him soon. Josh deserves my truth, and Mereki deserves to be released from my chains.