Page 57 of The Aristocrat


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Felicity followed me into the house and stopped short when she saw my easel in the kitchen. “Oh my God. You did that?”

“Yeah. It’s what I do when I’m most stressed, apparently.” I reached over to a bowl sitting on the counter. “Taffy?”

She shook her head. “No.” She walked over to the easel to take a closer look. “The way you described your painting skills made it sound like you were horrible. This is really good, Leo.”

“Well, you get the hang of it after a while. I’m getting better at copying his exact movements. But it’s not true talent if you have to follow someone else’s lead the entire time.”

“I beg to differ. I could never do this.”

Her feedback actually made me feel quite good. I’d always suspected I wasn’t as bad an artist as Sigmund would have me believe. But it’s hard to judge your own work.

“This is probably my best one yet. So thank you for the compliment.”

“Can I have it when you’re done?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

“I’ll hang it in my room.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay with the reminder?”

Felicity placed her hand on my cheek. “There’s no way I’ll ever be able to erase you, Leo. I’ll always want to remember this time. I just don’t want to have to see you with anyone else.”

Feeling a pain in my chest, I took her hand and kissed it. “Will you spend the rest of the afternoon here?”

“I have to work tonight, but I have a couple of hours before I have to get ready. Can I watch you paint? You obviously have a ways to go.”

“If you’d like. Sure.”

Over the next hour, my redheaded beauty sat on the floor with her legs crossed, watching me paint as Bob Ross instructed me from the laptop.

It was peaceful. And for now, she was here with me. What more could I want? If I could’ve frozen time, this might have been the moment I chose to pause.

Later that night, after Felicity had gone and taken the painting with her, my cousin found me sitting in the living room with my head in my hands.

“You’ve gone and done it, haven’t you?” he said.

“Done what?” I asked, feeling like my spirit had been plucked from my body.

“You’ve fallen in love with her.”

I turned to look at him. “What do you want me to say?”

He took a deep breath. “I actually feel sorry for you, cousin. It makes me wish we’d never stopped in this damn place.”

I knew I would never trade this time I’d had with her, would never trade getting to experience having authentic feelings for someone. Sigmund had never been in love, so I couldn’t expect him to understand. You simply don’t until it happens to you.

“Did you tell her?” he asked.

“Tell her what?”

“That you love her?”

“No. There’s no point. Telling her would only complicate things more. We’ve agreed to ride out the rest of my time here.”

“By ride, I assume you mean fucking each other’s brains out.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

Sigmund’s tone turned serious. “Okay, so what’s the plan after you leave?”

“That’s it. She doesn’t think we should keep in contact if we’re not together.”

“Really? Not at all?”

“That’s correct. She thinks it’ll be too painful.”

He scratched his chin. “That’s wise, actually. At least one of you understands that nothing good can come of it.” He sighed. “For the record, I get no joy from seeing you this down.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me all summer.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve been poisoned by the residual love vapors in the air.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

* * *

Felicity

Track 16: “Never Forget You” by Zara Larsson

Late August

Leo had dropped me off at my house after a morning of putting the final touches on Mrs. Barbosa’s garage renovation. As I got out of the shower, I thought about how fast time was flying by. I had to leave for Pennsylvania in a week, and Leo had decided to book his flight for around the same time. One week left.

Over the past six weeks, we’d done an excellent job of taking things day by day, throwing ourselves mostly into finishing up the work at Mrs. Barbosa’s. The space was now fully functional, and it was so satisfying to watch Theo enjoying his new indoor swing and having his therapy sessions in a corner of the room. Leo and I had done some good this summer while taking our minds off the inevitable.

We’d spent as much of the rest of our time together as possible, enjoying the simple things like clamming, and relaxing afternoons with Ludicrous when I didn’t have to work at Jane’s by the Water.

A few weeks ago, though, I’d told Leo I thought we should stop being intimate. As much as it had pained him, he agreed that continuing our sexual relationship would only make things harder in the end. So we’d stopped cold turkey, made easier by the fact that I didn’t spend the night at his place anymore.

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