The Living Canvas

by Pepper Winters

  “No but we had fun playing one night. She’s a natural.” I beamed, forgetting as I sometimes did, that Olive wasn’t mine. That her skill at dancing didn’t come from me but someone else. Maybe someone in Jane Tallup’s family tree had been a dancer, lithe and limber like I used to be. “I was going to tell you...we wanted it to be a surprise next time we came to visit you.” I smiled. “But you visited us instead.”

  Gil’s gaze caught mine, holding for long enough to make my heart skip a beat. The green shone with gratefulness and pride.

  He cleared his throat, saying, “She’s always been quick to learn.” Turning to grin at his daughter, he added, “You’ll have to show me a few of your moves.”

  Olive’s face lit up. “Why don’t you come to my practice tomorrow? I’m still new there, but you can watch.” Her eyes dipped with shyness. “Then maybe I could have a sleepover here...with you.”

  Gil’s face turned serious and intense. “I’d love that. I’ve love that very much.”

  “Great.” Olive spun in place, her arms flying out in a messy pirouette. “It’s a date.”

  Gil looked at me again.

  That hissing, licking need that always consumed me around him raced down my spine.

  It’d been almost two years since we’d talked in private.

  Two years where his daughter hadn’t been there—a sweet distraction from our honesty.

  If Olive moved back in with Gil tomorrow, I’d lose my chance to be truthful.

  To tell him exactly how I felt.

  To tell him honestly what’d happened between Justin and me.

  I owed him that.

  I owed him transparency because he was home now, and we were family.

  And family didn’t keep secrets.

  While Gil drifted off and made plans with Olive for tomorrow, I made plans to return tonight and fight for our future.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ______________________________

  Gil

  I SAT AT the dining room table doing what I did best.

  Painting.

  The sketch I’d done of a ballerina with musical notes dancing around her, signified both O and my daughter. Olive had been taking dancing lessons. What else had I missed while being in jail?

  Everything.

  Dipping my brush into the water glass, I opted for a fuchsia watercolour, highlighting the ballerina’s slippers.

  I’d missed O and Justin getting close. I’d missed joking and arguing with Olive. I’d missed restaurants and moonlight strolls.

  But at least the things I’d missed had given me redemption. They’d wiped my future clean, so I was at peace to enjoy those things. Deserved to enjoy those things.

  Looking up, I studied Olive’s bedroom. The apartment was small and both bedrooms entered straight onto the living area. The decoration I’d purchased and prepared, the hope I’d nursed, all sat hushed and waiting.

  Tomorrow, I would get to see Olive dance. I’d no doubt suffer reliving a past where I’d watched another girl dance for me, and then I’d say goodbye to O and Justin and bring Olive home.

  We’d start slow.

  One night to see if she still loved me enough to live with me.

  Another night if she wanted to stay.

  Then possibly, hopefully, a whole week, where I’d be privileged enough to take her to school, cook her dinner, and help with her homework.

  Swirling the brush in water again, I swiped the thin, soft bristles in aquamarine to decorate the dancing notes and threads of music ribbon.

  A knock resonated through my front door, wrenching my head up.

  My eyes narrowed. Suspicion that’d saved me from a few beatings in prison made my instincts prickle. Who the hell would visit me at eleven in the evening?

  The knock came again.

  I stood and strode across the small lounge. With muscles tense for confrontation, I unlocked the door and ripped it wide.

  O flinched, her hand flying to her chest. “God, you scared me.”

  I froze. “I scared you? You’re the one on my stoop at almost midnight.”

  “Sorry, I—” She blushed; her tongue licked her bottom lip. “I admit it’s a little late. I didn’t wake you, did I?” Her skin glowed as if imagining me in bed made her hot.

  Suspicion bled into lust in a single heartbeat.

  She couldn’t be here.

  I didn’t have the strength.

  My hand curled around the door handle as I fought the urge to slam it in her face. Better that than snatching her wrist and jerking her into a kiss.

  And not just any kiss but a full-blown nuclear meltdown of a kiss.

  “You need to leave.” I braced myself, inching the door to its closed position.

  Her hazel gaze widened. Her mouth parted. “You’re kicking me out without even inviting me in?”

  The way she looked at me.

  The way her entire body invited me to take.

  I swallowed hard. “You can’t come in, O. Not tonight.”

  Her face fell. “Why?” Her question was soft...almost a whisper, but it ricocheted through my blood.

  I went to lie.

  To tell her it didn’t matter. That my reasons were my own.

  But...I’d made a promise to stop staying silent.

  Truth was the only way forward.

  Every muscle locked in place as I muttered, “Because I’m recently released from prison. I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time. The last person was you. And you’ve always been my person.” I cleared my throat, my voice growing raspy and harsh. “But you’re not my person anymore. And I respect that, so I need you to respect my request for you to go.”

  Her arms wrapped around herself. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting honesty.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s what you’ll get from now on.” I raked a shaky hand through my hair. My self-restraint had frayed so much around the edges, and I was hanging on by a fucking thread. “Please, O. Go home. Go back to Justin.”

  O ducked her head, her eyes skating down my body with fire. “Not yet. I came to talk to you. It’s important that we talk.”

  “Talking isn’t going to be my strong suit tonight.” I angled my hips away, doing my best to hide just how much my body didn’t want to talk.

  I was so hard, it hurt.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for almost two years, Gil. At least give me ten minutes.” Her eyes met mine, emotion bleeding through her calmness. “If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll go. No questions asked. At least...at least I’ll know I tried and can put it behind me.”

  Didn’t she get it?

  I let her into this flat and talking would swiftly end up beneath the clothes I’d rip from her body. I swallowed a groan as images of her naked and me inside her exploded in my mind.

  Goddammit, I wanted her so fucking much.

  “O, please don’t ask me to let you in here.” I dropped my head, glaring at her beneath my brow. “I don’t have the best self-control, and I don’t trust myself around you.”

  She stepped forward, placing her hand on the doorjamb. “Ten minutes, Gil.” Her voice turned smoky and loose. “You won’t do anything. I know you and your honour.”

  In a split second, my fist curled around her wrist, my arm yanked her inside, and the door slammed closed. My entire body burned as I pressed against her, wedging her against the wall.

  She sucked in a heady breath, her eyes sparkling with need.

  “I have no honour left. I have nothing left. And it’s fucking liberating because I can start anew. I have started anew. Whatever I make is fresh and untainted by all the shit I did wrong.” My hand cupped her cheek, holding her still. “And you were my biggest mistake, O. Just like it was your mistake to come here.”

  I already regretted my actions.

  I already cursed what I couldn’t stop.

  But my lips ignored my loyalty to Justin and sought hers. They crushed over her mouth. Her taste exploded onto my tongue. M
y knees wobbled. My breath stopped. And I shoved myself away from her as fast as I could.

  “Shit.” Pacing with my hands buried in my hair, I growled. “Please, go. I won’t betray Justin. Not after everything he’s done for me.”

  O stood plastered to the wall, her gorgeous eyes tracking me. “Gil, please...calm down.”

  “I won’t fucking calm down. I can’t be around you, O. You’re not mine anymore. You’re his.”

  “I’m not though.” Her hands balled. “If you just listen to what I have to say, you’d—”

  “Wha-what did you say?” My feet glued to the floor. My hands fell from my hair.

  Her chin arched. “I’m not his.”

  “But...you live together.”

  “We do.”

  “You share a bedroom.”

  She smiled, laughing quietly. “No, we don’t.”

  “What?”

  “I share with Olive.”

  My heart hammered. “How...how is that possible?”

  “We have two singles. We’re roommates.”

  “Why would you bunk with a child?”

  O sighed gently, infuriatingly patient. “Because that child had nightmares for months after you were locked up. She still has them occasionally. It made sense for me to be right there when she woke up screaming rather than have no one to soothe her.”

  “Fuck.” I wrapped hands in my hair, overwhelmed all over again at the selflessness of this woman. “You truly are the kindest person I know.”

  “No...I’m not.” Her face fell. “If I was kind, I would’ve told you this a long time ago. Instead of keeping a secret that’s literally been chewing me alive.”

  I dropped my hands; a shiver ran down my spine. “What secret?” I shook my head, still unable to believe she wasn’t with Justin after all the time they’d lived together, worked together, been together. “The secret that you’re in love with Justin?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, dammit.”

  “Look, you don’t have to lie to protect me. I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’re both—”

  She sighed dramatically. “Oh, my God, will you just listen? And you’re happy? Really, Gil? Honestly, how would you feel if I stood here and told you that yes, Justin and I were together. That yes, we sleep with each other every night. That yes, I’m madly in love with him and plan to marry him next week.” She planted hands on her hips, her temper appearing. “Tell me, Gil. How does that make you feel?”

  How did that make me feel?

  Fuck.

  I’d tell her.

  She wanted to know so badly?

  Fine.

  Honesty was a disease because once you’d started, you couldn’t fucking stop.

  “I feel as if my heart has cracked into pieces and turned to dust. I feel guilty because I shouldn’t want you and angry that I still do. I hate that I have my freedom and Olive is safe and I’m still not fucking satisfied. That I’ll never be satisfied until I have you. Until we’re together...just like we should’ve been since school. And I’m fucking furious that Justin gets to touch you, kiss you, love you when all along it should’ve been me.”

  “There.” Her hands slipped from her hips. “Was that so hard?”

  I groaned. “Don’t ask me what’s hard, O.”

  Her lips twitched with dark humour, her gaze trailing to my jeans.

  My need was evident. Grotesquely eager after being caged for so long.

  “It’s a relief to finally hear you say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That you love me.”

  I stiffened. “I told you before. I told you so many—”

  “You told me while tying me up to paint and sacrifice me. You told me when we were saying goodbye.” O pushed off from the wall, coming toward me in the middle of the lounge. “You told me in texts and whispers, you told me...but you didn’t make me believe you.”

  I trembled. “How was I supposed to do that? It was the honest to God truth. Still is.”

  “I believe you now.”

  “Why, what changed?”

  “The fact that you believe that you love me. Your jealousy makes yourself believe.”

  Anger rippled through me. “You’re saying I didn’t love you even when I told you I did?”

  “I don’t think you trusted you had the right to love me. You wanted me, but you wouldn’t have kept me if you thought I deserved better.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t. I was the puppet of a psychopath and then facing jail. Why would I trap you into a relationship with someone like me?”

  “Because I love you, too. I never stopped.”

  The world screeched to a halt. Words stuck in the back of my throat. “You love me? Still?”

  She smiled. “It seems it’s a lifetime affliction.”

  “But...we agreed it was over. You didn’t contradict me.”

  “I needed time. I needed to come to terms with the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “That I’ve always loved you, even when I shouldn’t. That I always put you first, even when some might call that weak. That I believe we’re meant to be together, no matter what nonsense life throws in our way.” Her voice lowered, softened. “I’ve wanted to tell you for ages. Every time I came to visit you, I wanted to say I was waiting for you. Every time we said goodbye, I wanted to hug you and say it wasn’t really goodbye. That you were it for me. For always.”

  My heart tripped and stumbled. “Then...why didn’t you?”

  I didn’t dare believe her.

  Couldn’t figure out what this meant.

  “Because Olive was there, and she took first priority. Our visits were for her. To assure her you were okay, even if you were trapped for a little while. I wouldn’t take that away from her—”

  She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You know what? That’s a lie too. I had plenty of opportunity to talk to you. I could’ve told you in a letter. I could’ve visited on my own. I could’ve just called you and told you that I was waiting, worried, and completely unable to get over you.”

  I swallowed, trembling. “You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want it to be real. You might’ve still been in love with me, but you didn’t want to be.”

  She nodded, spearing a harpoon through my chest. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s the honest truth.”

  Truth had always been brutal, but now it cleaved me into pieces. “Look, O, if you came here to tell me you don’t want to love me anymore, that’s fine. I get it. But we can work out Olive’s schedule without—”

  “Stop.” Placing her hand over my pounding, aching heart, she murmured, “Not telling you I was still in love with you was my one selfish choice. I wanted to feel no obligation or expectation by announcing that I would wait. I wanted to wait...for me, not you. I wanted the freedom to change my mind. I needed the space to choose you without feeling trapped.” Her lips tipped into a shy smile. “You know...that’s the first time I’ve been honest with myself too. I always made up excuses about why I hadn’t told you. That I didn’t know if you felt the same way anymore. That it wasn’t the right time or place. That our complicated past meant our future could never work. But none of that matters because...it’s always been you.”

  I shivered. “But...what about Justin?”

  O spread her hands with a shrug. “What about him? I love Justin. He’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most uncomplicated people I know. He’s been so good to me, Olive, and you. Yes, I moved in with him because it made financial sense and because Olive was more comfortable having both of us there. But at no point has there ever been a romantic entanglement—even when we were kids. He always knew how I felt about you. He knew there was never anyone else for me.”

  A bright smile lit up her face. “You can ask him. He started dating a woman called Chloe a few months ago. She’s super nice. Don’t think it’s going to last the distance, as she’s a little too independent for a guy like Justin who just
wants to dote, but it’s nice to see him with someone.”

  She sighed again. “So...you see, I’m not with Justin. And you don’t have to feel guilty for wanting me. You have me. You’ve always had me and—”

  I didn’t let her finish.

  I grabbed her, wrapped her in my arms and kissed her.

  Her spine melted.

  Her body liquefied in my embrace. And her mouth opened, welcoming me to kiss her deeper, harder, forever.

  Heads dancing. Tongues licking.

  I couldn’t get enough.

  The chains around my heart broke away. Padlocks shattered. Ropes unbound. All the restrictions I’d placed on myself vanished the longer we kissed.

  There was something special about this kiss.

  Something new and honest and true.

  This was real.

  Real and promising eternity.

  Her heart pounded against mine as I tripped backward, needing every part of her.

  Immediately.

  Now.

  Unable to keep kissing her and navigating my new place, I scooped her into my arms, and stormed into my bedroom.

  O shivered as I placed her onto the bed.

  A bed.

  We’d connected in so many erotic ways. With paint smearing us and cameras recording us, but we’d never done it somewhere that promised romance as well as sex. Somewhere that gave us the freedom to fall into each other, rather than drown out the love with the noise of why we couldn’t.

  Her hands landed on my chest, her fingernails scraping down my belly. Her touch ran over the scar from Jeffrey shooting me, and banished the last remaining bad memories. Maybe I’d get a tattoo like hers—colour and design that was already a part of me to cover up the ugly scars and mistakes of my past.

  But then again, those mistakes had made me worthy.

  Worthy of my soul-mate.

  My mouth crushed hers again.

  I kissed her.

  And kissed her.

  I kissed her with the softness I’d always wanted to treat her with. The respect, the worship, the undying affection where every touch bled with permanence.

  I’d never experienced softness.

  Never allowed myself to relax or trust enough to give myself entirely to another.