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‘What if he tried his best to take care of me but he just couldn’t? I can’t keep on blaming him for that.’
Even now she was still protecting him, Blaise realised with incredulity. After all the man had put her through!
‘You don’t have to keep on blaming him, but he absolutely did not try his best to take care of you, Maya. Whatever you say, however much you may want to jump to his defence, he didn’t try his best at all. He may have been an incredible artist, but it was his only daughter he should have lavished his love and devotion on first…even before his art.’
‘To be honest, I think that sometimes he used his painting to escape the world—but don’t we all do that in one form or another at times of stress or worry? Try to escape? Can I tell you something else? I don’t always feel so forgiving towards him. Sometimes I hate him for what he did…how he behaved, how he put people who didn’t even care about him before me. But the truth is I also loved him very much.’
‘Most relationships are that complicated.’
‘You know the strangest thing? After his funeral I had the strongest sense that he was looking after me at last. Instead of going to pieces, which is how I feared I might react, I felt this really warm sensation of peace and love wrap itself round me. It stayed with me for months…even when everything had to be sold to pay off his debts and I was forced to leave our home.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘A friend of mine was sharing a house with two other girls and they offered me a room. A couple of months before that—knowing that my father was in financial difficulty—I’d left school and got myself a job in an office, so that I could help support us. Anyway…’
She shrugged matter-of-factly, and her lips formed a tentative smile. As subtle as the gesture was, the sweet curve of her lips acted like a ray of pure sunlight, dazzling him.
‘You’re perfectly right. It doesn’t do any good to keep revisiting the past—it can be an exercise doomed to make you miserable. It’s what’s happening now that we need to concentrate on, isn’t it? I’ve told myself not to keep dwelling on things, and I do want to try and put everything that happened behind me, but still…it was a terrible thing, you know? To witness, I mean…’
‘To even imagine it is terrible enough, Maya. And you had to cope with that devastating event all on your own. That takes tremendous courage.’
‘I suppose I’ve never thought about it like that before. That I had courage…But I must have had it even to want to continue. And I have continued…I haven’t given up. I’m still here and I have to count my blessings. I’ve got the rest of my life to live, right? I’m determined to put my whole self into whatever I do next—not have only half of me show up, which I think is what I’ve been doing all these years. It’s time to move away from all the sadness—to go forward with a bit more optimism.’
‘If anyone can do that, you can, Maya.’
‘Blaise?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Listening.’
Her gratitude almost undid him—particularly when he thought it was singularly undeserved. ‘Any time.’
‘If you ever need someone to just listen…I’ll be there for you too.’
Steadily he rested his gaze on her lovely face, but said nothing.
‘I don’t know why, but sometimes I get the feeling there’s something from the past that really bothers you, Blaise. You don’t show it outwardly—I mean you’re very confident and successful at what you do—but it’s just a sense I get. Is it—is it to do with your family?’
Stultifying mental shadows pressed close, and his usual battle with the tide of hurtful memory gripped Blaise in a vice. ‘Another time,’ he replied gruffly. ‘Another time perhaps I’ll talk to you about it.’
Lowering his glance, he saw the doubt in her eyes and knew she had every right to doubt him. Resistance to discussing both his family and his fears about repeating his father’s reprehensible behaviour was so strong in him that he took the path of avoidance every time…every time. Inside, he bitterly despaired that he would ever be any different.
The truth was that Maya was far more courageous than he could ever hope to be. She was willing to deal with the dark cloud of memory that sometimes enveloped her, had made a pact to try and move away from it, to be more optimistic about life. Perhaps all Blaise could do was keep on pouring his stifled emotion into his work instead? And maybe he should properly confront the fact that in all likelihood he would spend the rest of his life alone because of his inability to face up to things. One thing he was certain of: he would not venture into a long-term commitment with a woman with such a high risk of failure hanging over his head. For who would stay with a man that might potentially harm them? He especially wouldn’t do that to a woman like Maya—someone who had already been hurt almost beyond imagining.
