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“You’ve known me for nearly ten years.” He cut her off ruthlessly. He couldn’t imagine a single thing she could say that could explain this. Whatever she said would be barefaced lies. “Never thought to mention it? What a fucking sucker I am, hey? Falling for the same trick twice. Did you plan this? Did you make friends with Mikayla just to get to me?”
Leah stared at him, horror struck. So many emotions coursed through her that she felt overwhelmingly confused. But as Callum kept talking, the words cutting and nasty, she felt her anger grow. How dare he? Here she’d been, pining for him, worried he was breaking up with her. Well, she’d been right all along! And with that sneer on his face, too. “Yes, Callum! Of course I did. I totally played the long game, didn’t I? A decade long, in fact.” She took a deep breath, ready to let the storm go. All the confusion and fear of the last few days. All the years of her awful marriage. Everything she thought she had with Callum that had just been ripped away from her. “What are you saying? That I met you and fell so desperately under your spell that I went and had a shitty, fucking awful marriage for years. Just so I could get divorced, hunt up your sister, force a friendship on her. Just on the off chance that you’d come back to Blessed Inlet. Just so I could fuck you. Hook you.” She was yelling now. In full flight. Callum took a step back as she approached him. She felt like slapping him, had to ball her hands into fists so that she didn’t. “Why don’t you cast your mind back to that night? Remember what happened after you sang me happy birthday?”
He looked at her for a long moment and she saw the exact second that comprehension dawned. “Exactly! You think you’re so fucking hot! That I fucking pined for you all these years! You are ridiculous.”
“Leah —”
“I don’t want to hear it. You think its history repeating itself for you? Try being me. I won’t be spoken to like that.” She turned on the words, storming across the lounge room, slamming the wire door open so that it crashed against the wall.
“Leah!” Callum was right behind her.
“Stay away from me.” She turned back, shoved at his chest. “Get the fuck away from me.” She couldn’t recall ever feeling such rage. She was shaking and tears blurred her eyes. She swiped at them as she strode up the driveway. She forced herself to take a deep breath as she got behind the wheel of her car, turned the keys in the ignition. She didn’t look back as she pulled away from the curb.
Back at her place, Leah paced back and forth. She felt sick. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips, trying to stop herself from retching. She sat down on the couch, hugging her arms across her middle. Bounced back up again, too agitated to sit. She needed a drink. Going into the kitchen, she grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water. “Fuck that.” She turned to the cupboard, pulled out a bottle of red wine. Screw top. Excellent. Twisting the lid off, she went to pour it into the glass, said “Fuck that,” again and drank straight from the bottle, wincing a little at the acrid flavor. She wasn’t really a red wine drinker. It was a bottle that Callum had left. She seriously considered pouring it down the sink, said “Fuck that,” yet again and drank some more.
Feeling marginally better, she saw the big canvas in the corner of the loungeroom. Taking another swig from the wine bottle, she grabbed her paints, pulled up a dining chair and set to work. Long brush strokes. Dark, midnight blue. Black. Deepest gray. Bright white. She had no idea how long she painted for. She was oblivious to her surroundings. To the slowly setting sun. Until the room was too dark and she couldn’t see anymore. She stopped painting just long enough to switch the overhead light on and grab another bottle of wine.
Hours later, with her back aching and her hand numb, Leah collapsed onto the overstuff armchair, curled into a tight ball and fell asleep.
???
“Leah. Honey.”
Leah let out a moan. Someone was shaking her. It hurt. She swiped her hand, pushing the offending hand off her shoulder.
“Leah, you need to wake up. I need to know if you’re okay.” It was Juniper.
Leah squeezed her eyes open, squinting in the bright sunshine streaming in through the lounge room windows. It felt like someone had stuck an axe in her skull. She groaned.
“Okay, so she’s alive.” Mikayla stepped into Leah’s blurry line of vision.
“Whatareyoudoinhere?”
“I think she just asked us what we’re doing here.”
Juniper reached up and pushed Leah’s hair back from her forehead with exquisite gentleness. “Callum texted. Asked us to check on you.”
“Fuck him.” She uncurled from the armchair, swaying slightly as she sat up. Her stomach was roiling and she ached all over. She closed her eyes. “I need coffee.”
“I’m on it.” Mikayla hurried to the kitchen, making Leah wince when she dropped a teaspoon and it clattered loudly onto the bench.
“You guys had a fight,” Juniper stated, taking Leah’s hand in hers.
“More than a fight. It’s over.”
The sounds emanating from the kitchen stopped, as Mikayla froze at Leah’s words.
Rubbing her hands over her face, Leah opened her eyes and looked blearily at Juniper. Who was staring at her painting. Leah followed her gaze and gasped.
“Honey, did you paint this? Last night?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s…well, it’s…”
“Amazing, Brilliant. Evocative. It makes me want to cry.” Mikayla said as she handed Leah a much needed mug of steaming coffee.
“Yeah, that’s what it is,” Juniper concurred. Then they all three just sat there, staring at it. Leah had painted the view from her back veranda. But not of the sea on a calm, sunny day. Like today. She had painted towering waves. A boiling sea. Rain and white lightning. And a tiny, bright white boat. Caught in the waves. About to be subsumed.
