AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I left the hospital there wasn’t time to make it to Oliver’s art class so I headed home, happy to find that the cleaning crew Carson scheduled had already come and gone. I didn’t see any remnants of blood anywhere in the house but it still needed some TLC. The base that once held the shattered glass of the coffee table stood in the middle of the living room and there were a few broken pieces of chairs piled in the living room. I dragged most of that stuff to the back patio, hoping Carson would help me take it out on trash day.
After that was finished I went into Violet’s room to survey the damage. The place was a mess and gave off a bit of a creepy vibe that I didn’t want Violet to feel when she came home. I spent the next hour straightening up her room, washing the clothes that had been strewn about, and trying to erase any hint that something nefarious had taken place there. I know it wasn’t much, but at least I felt like I was doing something to help her. Though, judging by the possessive glint in Dad’s eye at the hospital, I’m not sure how much longer she’s going to be living here anyway. I have a feeling he’s going to whisk her away to his place the second he gets a chance.
I’m not looking forward to living alone now that Hollie is gone and Violet seems to be on her way out. But who knows, maybe with Carson and I making things official I won’t be here long myself. Hell, pretty soon my dad could have his property back to rent out.
The thought of me moving in next store makes my heart beat faster. It’s not something I ever would have let myself think about before but now… well, who knows.
My date with Carson isn’t until later this evening so after I’ve put Violet’s room back in as much order as it’s going to get, I decide to get some of my own work done.
It’s drizzling outside so I set up my easel in the living room and prep a brand-new canvas. I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to paint so I just kind of let myself go.
Unsurprisingly, the painting starts taking shape in the form of Carson’s face. It’s not the first time I’ve painted him over the past weeks. Hell, I seem to paint him no matter what I try to do to stop myself. However, this time, instead of holding back like I’ve always done in the past, I let my feelings for him pour out of me. I let every emotion that I’d been holding back for weeks out onto the canvas. Before I was even halfway done I know that I’m going to be showing this one to Margot. Who knows, maybe I’d actually even show this one to Carson himself.
I’ve been hiding my painting from him, knowing that as soon as he saw the sheer volume of work dedicated to him and Oliver he would know exactly how I felt about him and I couldn’t have that. Well, beyond all odds, it seems he feels that same way about me. I shouldn’t be ashamed of showing him how he looks through my eyes. If anything, I get the feeling that he’ll love seeing it. That he’ll appreciate how much time and effort I’ve put into creating pieces that are distinctly… him.
I’m about to put a few finishing touches on the pieces, marveling to myself how I could have gotten so much done in just a few short hours, when there’s a knock at my door. I set down my brush try to rub some of the paint off of my hands but as usual, it’s in vain. I’m going to have to get some paint thinner out to really do the job before my date tonight.
Opening, the front door I’m surprised to see Carson standing there. I look behind me at the clock on the wall confirming that he’s early. Very early.
“Hey, I thought we weren’t going out until seven. If you want to come on in and wait I can start getting ready.” I open the door wide for him and start to head back inside, my mind occupied with how quickly I can get ready. I’m not exactly known forspeed in this area. I’m stopped by his hand resting on my shoulder.
When I turn around I take a moment to actually look him over, something I neglected to do when I first opened the door. He doesn’t look exactly thrilled to be here. His shoulders are slightly hunched and his chin is tilted downward. The lines of his face are stern and harsh, not a trace of a smile anywhere. What worries me the most are his eyes. They somehow look both cold and hesitant at the same time.
“What’s going on, Carson?”
He runs his hand over his face in that gesture he makes when he’s overwhelmed or frustrated and it causes alarm bells to ring in my head. I don’t know what’s wrong but whatever it is, I know it’s not good. “Can we go inside for a second?” he asks.
I step away from the door, holding it wide open in response and let him walk inside before closing the door behind him. I can feel the negative emotions coming off him in waves but I don’t have any idea what could be wrong. I head back into the living room and take a seat on the couch. I expect him to sit down next to me or at least take the chair across the room but instead he remains standing, looking over my shoulder.
“Are you going to sit?” I ask, not liking how he’s looming over me.
His face hardens before he brings his eyes to mine, and when he finally does, it sends chills through my body. Not the good kind of chills either. “I think it’s better if I just stand. This won’t take very long.”
“Okaaay.” What is going on with him? He’s got my anxiety ratcheted up to ten, my heart is slamming against my chest, when suddenly a thought occurs to me. “Oh my god, is Oliver alright? Did something happen?”
His body gives a little jerk and he looks deep into my eyes. I can sense his body start to relax for just a second before thetension runs through him again, stringing him as tight as a bow. “Oliver’s fine.”
I let out a sigh of relief and sag a little against the back of the couch. If Oliver is okay, at least it can’t be anything too bad.
“I think I’ve made a mistake,” he says, his voice cold.
“A mistake?”
“When we spoke last night. I think I was too quick to bat away your concerns. I’m going to need some more time to think about them.”
“My concerns? What are you talking about?”
He takes a deep breath like he’s trying to steal himself to say what he needs to say. “Your concerns about not being able to have children. I think that maybe… that might matter to me. I’m not sure. I need more time to think about it.”
I can feel my body freeze up. Every shitty thing every ex has ever said to me about my condition comes screaming into the forefront of my mind.
You didn’t think this could actually lead somewhere did you?
Look, it’s okay for right now but someday I’m going to want a family.
Face it Bianca, you’re a lot of fun but you’re not exactly wife material.
I feel like everything is coming crashing down around me but I carefully school my features into a mask of indifference. My ability to be able to project anI don’t five a shitattitude has been my armor over the years and it’s the first thing I pull out when I’m under attack.
