Beautiful Lies (20 page)

When he sits back on his seat, it gives me a chance to stare out of the window in front of me. The sky is dark and filled with stars. I sit up a little and we are surrounded by hills. It is absolutely beautiful. I turn to Taylor.

“Where are we?”

“I have no idea but it’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I say turning back toward the sky. Everything seems so still and quiet. I love it.

“Sometimes I just drive and drive until I find a secluded place like this; somewhere so beautiful that I’m inspired by it.”

“I understand. Are you inspired now?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I watch him and he stares back at me. I know that he understands what I am asking of him. He says that he can’t tell me everything...that he has to hold back. But art is my form of communication. A piece of art can tell a whole story without the need to ever utter a single word. I see the moment that he decides to answer my silent question. I see it in his eyes. I sense it.

His eyes leave mine and his hand brushes my knee lightly as he reaches into the glove compartment. He pulls out a sketching pad and a pencil. I sit up and watch him in silence.

He flicks past a few images that I don’t manage to catch and opens up on a fresh page. I hear the gentle scratch of his pencil tip against the paper and I lean in closer to him. My movements are slow and quiet. We are in a moment and I don’t want to ruin it. He starts creating a few curves and lines and I wait in eager anticipation, not knowing what he is creating. Most people would be bored by the process and just come back when it is complete, but it’s as if he knows that I would enjoy this. That I would enjoy watching him. For him, creating art is intimate and private. This is a private declaration. He has invited me into this moment. It is precious and I am not taking it lightly. My eyes leave the pad and I focus on his face. He looks beautifully damaged. He is thinking so hard, remembering something painful. He is forcing himself back to a time of pain, I can feel it. He’s not even in the car anymore, he’s somewhere else.

His eyes glaze over ever so slightly and become shiny. I want to comfort him and tell him that everything will be ok, but I don’t. When people are sad, they cry...he creates. I watch as he draws his pain. He produces his tears with every move of the pencil. My eyes flit back down to the paper. I see the outline of a face, it’s a woman. He begins creating the curves and lines that will all join together to become her hair. I watch him for endless minutes wondering what he is trying to show me. I know that this is his way of communicating. A way that he knows I will understand best. Once the shoulder length, wavy hair has been produced, he moves on to her features. I watch as next come her eyebrows, eyes, nose, lips and even the slight dent in her chin. She is beautiful, whoever she is and it makes my heart hurt. I feel jealous of her. I can see what it takes for him to draw her and I don’t think that I can compete with those feelings, with that emotion. She looks somewhere between sad and at peace. It’s a strange expression that he has created, one that I don’t think you can make up, but one that you could only draw from memory. Her expression is saying goodbye but it’s also saying so many other things. Things that I imagine only he can truly understand. This is a face that he knows well and I hate that, but it doesn’t take away from how beautiful a picture it truly is. He shades the background and darkens different areas of her hair. She is blonde. The picture is drawn in pencil but I can still tell. He ends the picture at her shoulders just above where her breasts would be. I’m not sure if she is wearing clothes in that moment, but I know that the picture is complete.

I see the moment that he leaves the zone that he is in. He physically seems to come back into the car. He looks around as if he isn’t aware of where he is and my heart pains for him. He truly is trapped within himself and I’m longing to know why, but I know that he will never tell me more than these moments can. This will always be his language of pain. He glances down at the picture that he has produced on his lap, and looks out of the window. I see his grip on the pencil tighten and he lets out a strained breath.

I gently slide the picture off his lap and he lets me. I stare at the drawing in silence.

“Is this Marie?” I whisper in the silence of the car.

He waits a couple of moments before answering me as though he is trying to compose himself. “Yes,” he says quietly.

“It’s beautiful.”
Silence.
“Who is she?”

“Paige,” he warns gently.

“No questions from the past, right?” I say.

“Right.”

I close the book and place it carefully inside the glove compartment. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

His head is leaning against the back of his chair and he rolls his head slowly until he is facing me. He stares at me in silence. He is expressionless but I don’t feel uncomfortable. I watch him watch me and I like it. He’s looking at me like he is taking in the memory, storing it. I want him to store it. I want him to always remember me...just as he remembers her. I want him to be able to draw me from this moment.

He moves his hand until it is entwined with mine and my entire body heats up. He is communicating something deeper than words with me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers. I know that there is more to that sentence than I truly understand.

“Me too.”

Then he slips his hand free of mine, much to my dismay, and starts up the car. We drive home in silence but we don’t need words. He said everything that I needed to hear in the silence, even if it didn’t all quite make sense yet. One day it will.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PAIGE’S STORY

I
spend my day at the gallery, daydreaming about Taylor. My mind is constantly replaying every scene of last night in case I missed something. I know what it meant for him to even show me a part of himself last night and I feel strangely excited about it. I’m not sure if I’ve been walking around with a smile on my face today but Rick has definitely given me a few strange looks. I’ve ignored them, of course, and tried to keep everything about business.

My phone pings while I am sat in my office going through some paperwork, and when I see Taylor’s name it’s like the whole world stops. I pinch my arm to make sure that I am definitely not stuck in a dream. When I feel the pain, I pick up the phone excitedly.

Can I see you tonight?

A big smile fills my face and I am about to reply when a gentle knock on my door distracts me. I place the phone back down and tell whoever it is to come in. I secretly hope that it is Jessica, but I know that I am wrong.

Rick walks inside with a strained smile on his face. He looks rough. I feel bad for a moment. I hate seeing him like this while I feel so happy, but he was the one that walked out on me.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he mutters as he waits by the door.

“It’s ok, I was about to take a break anyway.”

“Would it be ok if I spoke to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” I shrug my shoulders and point toward the chair in front of my desk.

He shuts the door behind him and walks over to the chair and takes a seat. I watch him patiently and sit back. He looks down at the ground as if he can’t face me yet. I wait.

“I made a mistake,” he says quietly.

“Rick...”

“I know you said that you don’t want to talk about it but I can’t do this anymore. I messed up, Paige. I was hurt seeing you feel the way you should only feel about me, for someone else, but walking out on you was wrong. I should have stood by you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I say softly. His head snaps up and his eyes lock on mine. He looks confused so I continue. “What I was asking of you was wrong. To share my love. I’m not sure how I expected you to do that.”

“Because I love you. I’m supposed to be able to deal with anything, that’s what you do when you love someone.”

“No, Rick, you’re not supposed to sacrifice your happiness to do anything. You deserve to be happy.”

“I was happy...with you. Now I’m miserable.”

“Don’t say that,” I feel sad hearing his words.

“It’s the truth. You’re my best friend, Paige. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I admit.

“Then let me come home,” he’s begging me and I feel my stomach drop.

“I never stopped you from coming home, Rick, that was your choice. I miss you, too, but this is how it has to be,” I finish.

“I don’t understand.”

“When you left, I was mad...at first. Then I gave myself some time to think. This was never fair on you and it wasn’t fair on me either. I don’t understand what is going on, and while that is the case, asking you to hang on isn’t the right thing to do.”

“I
can
hang on though. I can do that for you.”

“I don’t want you to, not anymore.”

His eyes fill with tears and I feel terrible.

“Then what do you want?” He asks.

“I want you to be happy. And I want to be happy.”

“You look happy.”

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“Without me.”

“I’m just trying to figure things out, that’s all. It is better this way.”

“I see.”

My phone chooses that moment to make noise again. I glance at it and see Taylor’s name on the screen. I try my best not to react to it but inside I am smiling. Rick notices something anyway and suddenly he seems a little frustrated.

“Well, I won’t bother you any further,” he says standing to his feet.

“Rick, wait...”

“No. I’ll have my things out of the apartment soon, I’m sure that’ll make things more convenient.” He says as his eyes glance at my phone.

I don’t quite know what to say, so I say nothing. I let him walk to the door. His hand touches the handle and then he pauses.

“That was out of line. I want you to be happy. I just need some time to get used the fact that it’ll be without me. I’m sorry.” Then he disappears, leaving me filled with emotions that I cannot explain. I stare at the space where he was just sat and my heart feels heavy. I look up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. I finally pick up my phone and read Taylor’s message.

Also, I have something I want you to see...

I smile down at the message before replying.

Really? What is it?

You’ll only find out if you come and see me...

I laugh out loud before covering my mouth and looking around the room like a naughty school girl.

I guess I’ll just have to come and see you then...

I guess you will...and bring some old clothes.

Why do I need old clothes?

When you get here you’ll find out...

Ok...

Don’t be nervous, you’re going to love it. I promise.

I hope you’re right.

I am. I’ll pick you up at seven.

* * *

I’m happy when the end of the day arrives and I leave without saying very much to Rick. Things just seem awkward and I know that he needs a couple of days to get used to the fact that our relationship status is no longer up to him. It’s also hard knowing that I feel happy when he feels sad, so I spent most of the day trying to hide it.

Before I get home, I ask Liv and Jen to meet me at my apartment. They both agree and the nerves kick in, but I feel like I need to tell them what has been going on. I know that they both have stuff going on in their own lives with Gavin and Liam, but they wouldn’t want me to keep this from them.

It’s
5:00pm
by the time I get home and they are both waiting for me. We share a little small talk before they are both sat comfortably in my living room, waiting for me to tell them what is going on.

I take a deep breath and sit down opposite them.

“So, as you both know, I have been having these dreams about Taylor.”

They both have incredibly serious expressions on their faces and are making me nervous. “Anyway, I went to an exhibition the other night and he was there.”

“Who?” Jen asks in confusion.

“Taylor.”

“Paige, you’re not making any sense,” Liv adds.

“Taylor was at the exhibition,” I say slowly. “He’s real.”

“What the hell?” Jen gasps.

“I don’t get it, how can he be real?” Liv asks.

“I don’t get it, either. He has dreamt of me, too. He knew me. He knew my name and everything,” I don’t want to go into too much detail, so I pick and choose what I tell them.

“So, you’re telling me that he’s real?” Liv asks again.

“Yes. I know that it’s crazy and that I sound crazy but it’s true. I don’t have the answers for you but he’s real. I would have told you sooner but I know that you both have stuff going on.”

“Yeah, I’m just shocked, and you’re sure that you weren’t just dreaming?” Jen asks.