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Chapter Eighteen
Addi
July turns into August, the heat only ramping up instead of cooling off.
My cast comes off tomorrow, and it can't come fast enough. The past four weeks have sucked. It's way too hard to paint with this huge thing stuck on my arm. I'll still have to wear a sling for the next few weeks, but it's a lot more comfortable.
What I'm dying for the most is a long, hot shower. People forget how horrible a bath can be. Sure, soaking in it when it's full of bubbles and sipping on wine is different than trying to wash your ass without getting your cast wet.
I've spent most of my time on the beach. If I couldn't paint, I'd sketch ideas for when my arm healed.
Leigh spends a lot of time with me, and even my parents have made an effort to spend more time with me. It's tough with my mother, but we're making progress. My father, though, I never realized how much I've missed him until we spent time together. Laughing about old memories and reminiscing were some of the best moments I've had with him.
Becca spent a few days out here, and it was nice showing her my hometown. We spent hours on the beach sipping wine and gossiping. I painted while Becca supervised. Half the time we laughed and splattered paint everywhere. I was afraid my accident would hinder our time together, but surprisingly, it didn’t.
Coles tried to apologize. A couple of times. It hurts me to ignore him, but I do. He doesn't want more, though, Leigh tries to convince me I'm wrong.
But I know I'm not. Just because I fell in love with him doesn't mean he fell in love back.
His cards only expressed his apologies and that he hoped I was recovering well. No mention of love. Maybe he'd rather say it in person like Leigh loves to point out, and that's probably true, but he hasn't come by to see me. He called once in the beginning and then nothing. Not even a text.
It was a summer fling. Nothing more, nothing less. Cole’s words. I'm only following them.
Don't these things always end this way? Does casual sex ever work? I guess maybe for some people.
But despite my mind warning me, I did it anyway. I told myself it was for my career, but it was for me. For my own selfish reasons. For wanting him. For wanting every part of him—mind, body, soul. I ignored my thoughts and lived in the present, not caring what the future could bring. Though I damn well knew.
Of course, I fucking knew.
Leigh picked up my paintings and took down my display. Cole told her he was sorry, and he wished things had turned out differently. It didn't change my mind.
I sell exclusively on Etsy now, and I have a pretty good following. I've set up a business module for myself, including a website and a newsletter. I learned from Cole’s business and used that to help mine. I also used a similar marketing strategy to boost my sales.
All I need now is my own place, and then I'll be happy. I finally have some savings, so I'm getting closer.
I wish Leigh could live with me, but she's still needed at home. And if she and Joe stay serious, she may go off with him.
It's all good, though, because I can take care of my own. I took care of myself in a big city thousands of miles away from home.
I'll have everything I need.
So why does it still seem so fucking miserable?
* * *
Cole
Tears prick my eyes. I don't cry for many things in my life.
But this.
This fucking sucks.
I grip the letter in my hand, and the words blur as more tears pool behind my eyelids.
The bank said it would be okay. Told me to keep making payments and they wouldn't auction it off.
They lied.
