Canvas for Love

by Charlotte Greene

  She was smiling widely at this point, and when I finished, she took both of my hands in hers, squeezing them. “I knew you’d do well. I bet you anything they call you tomorrow with a job offer.”

  I sighed. “There’s actually one more step before that happens. If they call me back, anyway.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? Academia is ridiculous. What else do you have to do?”

  “I have to meet with the provost and the dean. Officially. I met both of them briefly last week, but we have to have a sit-down discussion about salary and tenure and things like that.”

  She snorted. “The dean that set you up with the interview?”

  I nodded.

  She grinned. “So no problem, right? It’s in the bag, honey. I know it is.”

  Her happiness for me was genuine, and I couldn’t suppress a nearly overwhelming sense of relief. Some of this must have shown in my face, as I saw her expression change a little and guilt flash through her eyes.

  She squeezed my hands again. “Listen, Chloé. I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been behaving this week.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “But I do. I’ve been a complete ass. I should have been excited and happy for you, but instead I acted like you were taking something away from me. From now on, you have my full support—whatever happens. I promise.”

  Our food was delivered then, or I might have broken down right there in the restaurant. I knew it was hard for her to admit that she was wrong, and I’d given her time to get used to the idea, but I hadn’t realized quite how much her reluctance had bothered me until it had been put to rest.

  When our plates were taken away, we continued to sit there in comfortable silence. The weather had finally turned today, and although it was still a little chilly out, the staff had opened some of the windows, letting in a cool, nearly spring-like breeze. Amelia had her eyes closed, soaking in the sunshine streaming in, and I grinned like a fool as I stared at her. We’d weathered our biggest misunderstanding in months, and I was giddy. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw me watching her.

  Amelia paid the bill, and we walked out into the afternoon sunshine. It actually felt distinctly warm now for the first time in weeks. We both stood there on the sidewalk in front of her car, soaking in the sun.

  Amelia sighed. “Makes me want to take the rest of the afternoon off.”

  “Can we?”

  She shook her head. “No, not right now. But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Almost everything major should be wrapped up by the middle or end of March if we keep pushing like this. Maybe we can take another little trip after—somewhere close this time. Maybe the beach again. I’ve heard nice things about Ocean Springs in Mississippi.”

  I walked up to her and put my arms around her, snuggling into her neck. “Do you promise?”

  She shivered. “Yes. Now we better head in before you tempt me too much. Where’s your car?”

  I turned to point, but Amelia’s phone rang. She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, and dug around in her purse to find it. She looked at the screen and frowned before she answered.

  “Yes, hello?”

  I’d taken a couple of steps away to give her privacy, thinking it was a business call, but as I watched her face while she listened, I could see something was wrong. Her expression changed from vague annoyance to clear anger and then settled into an icy rage. She was staring at me as she listened. She said very little as the other party talked, simply agreeing once or twice with one-word answers. Finally, without saying anything to the other person, she hung up, dropping her phone back into her purse as if disgusted with it. She was still looking at me with hard, angry eyes.

  My heart was pounding. I’d never seen her this enraged. “Amelia? What is it?” I took a step toward her, and she backed away from me. I stopped completely, startled by her reaction.

  “That was Daphne Waters,” she said quietly.

  The sidewalk seemed to shift under my feet. Suddenly the world seemed completely unfamiliar, unrecognizable. Amelia’s expression was so cold, so angry, I could hardly believe she was looking at me. Panic flooded through my body in flashing waves of heat.

  “You have to let me explain,” I told her.

  “I don’t have to listen to a goddamn thing you say,” she spat. She had her fists clenched at her sides and seemed about to spring at me.

  I flinched and actually took a step away from her, sure she was about to hit me. My reaction did nothing to soften her stance or her expression. If anything, her eyes became colder.

  “How could you?”

  I was so scared of her and how she was acting, I started to blubber. “Amelia, please! You have every right to be angry, but I don’t understand why you’re so upset. I know I should have told you that I saw her—”

  She laughed, once, cutting me off. “Of course you should have told me! Goddamn it, Chloé! All you ever do is lie and hide things from me. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “Amelia, that’s not true and you know it.”

  “Hmm, let’s see. What happened just a few days ago? You lied and covered up the fact that you had a job interview. A fucking job interview! Like it was no big deal! Like I was the last person who should know!”

  I flushed with shame, but a tiny flame of anger began building inside me now. “You know why I was afraid to tell you about it, Amelia. You’re not being fair.”

  She continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “I might forgive you doing that, just that, but now I find out you did it again two days later! You’ve been hiding a fucking criminal! Sara should be in prison, Chloé, not in some fancy nuthouse. Why didn’t you tell me? What else are you hiding?”

  I opened my mouth to begin to explain, and then she held her hands up, closing her eyes briefly before opening them and fixing me with a dead, cold stare. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve done everything I can to get you to trust me, and you clearly don’t. You trust Sara and Daphne Waters more than you trust me.”

  I took a step toward her again, my arms open. “Amelia, Jesus! Just listen to me for a minute. We can fix this!”

  “No. No, we can’t,” she said, shaking her head. For a moment, I saw the depth of the pain in her eyes, but anger quickly replaced it. She turned and started walking toward her car.

  I couldn’t help but run after her. I grabbed her arm and spun her toward me. “For God’s sake, Amelia! Just listen!”

  She wrenched her arm out of my grip, and again that murderous hatred flashed through her eyes. I stepped warily away from her, once again certain she might hit me.

  “You’re a liar, Chloé. Maybe that’s all you’ve ever been. Maybe this was all some big ruse.” Her eyes narrowed, and her face, already pale, whitened perceptibly. “Was it the money? Is that what it was all this time?”

  She might as well have slapped me. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Deep rage instantly replaced my terror and fear. “Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”

  She shook her head, her eyes dark and sunken. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  We stood there, staring at each other, for a long moment, our world collapsing around us. The look in her eyes was cold enough to freeze the sun, and its fury was so harsh the words dried up in my mouth. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say or do that would make things right again.

  “You’ve broken my heart, Chloé. You betrayed me deeper and more fully than I knew was possible.” She paused. “Don’t come back to work. I’ll send your things to your apartment.”

  My heart lurched again in my chest, and I managed a single word. “Amelia!”

  She shook her head, and the words died in my mouth again. There was no point—she wouldn’t listen to me. She turned away and stalked over to her car. Even from where I stood, I could see that her hands were shaking, and it took her a while to get out her keys. She paused for a moment, still staring into her purse, and then she looked up at me.

 
; “I have one more present for you. I’ve been carrying it around for weeks. Take it and pawn it, for all I care.” She pulled out a little black box and threw it at me. I let it fall into the grass at my feet, not attempting to catch it and not looking at it. She shrugged and got into her car, started it, and drove away without another glance at me.

  I was frozen to the spot. My insides were ice, and I was quivering with what felt like a physical cold. My mind, so overcome by what had just happened, couldn’t accept it. Ten minutes ago we’d been happy, making plans. We’d cleared a major hurdle. We were moving on.

  Now it was over.

  “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. No way could it end like this. Again, my mind revolted. I’d lied to her, yes, but both instances had been lies of omission. She had to know this. She had to accept that I hadn’t meant to hurt her.

  “No,” I whispered again. Tears were falling down my cheeks, but I was still petrified with dread and horror over what had just happened.

  Finally, I started to come out of my deep freeze, but I was in a daze. I looked around, as if to see if Amelia was nearby, but of course she wasn’t. Instead, I was left with her empty parking space and the little black box near my feet. I stared down at it, knowing precisely what was inside. I’d seen boxes like that in the movies. Only one thing came in such boxes. I was tempted to leave it there. If I picked it up and opened it, I would fall into a million pieces. I was breathing, heavily, my heart pounding. I was faint and ill, and my ears were ringing. I simply couldn’t accept that it was over, that my carelessness had cut off Amelia’s love as if it had never existed.

  Finally, I bent down, but rather than opening the box, I crammed it into my purse without looking at it. I couldn’t leave it there, but I couldn’t look at it, either. Maybe I would never look at it. At that thought, I finally broke. I’m sure I made a scene for anyone to see, but I didn’t notice. I sank to the ground, sobbing, I might have even screamed a few times—I don’t know.

  A woman from the café came out after a while and helped me to a nearby bench, but I barely registered her presence for a long time. She sat there with me until I finally calmed down enough to leave. I don’t know what she must have thought. Somehow I stumbled back to my car, my mind still in a whirl of pain and confusion. Stupidly, I drove myself back to my apartment. I was hardly aware of what I was doing until my front door was closed behind me.

  Then I fell apart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’m not entirely sure what would have happened if I hadn’t had my aunt or Meghan around to take care of me. At first, when they didn’t know, I think I was as close as I’ve ever been to actual insanity. I didn’t eat and I didn’t bathe. I resembled some kind of wraith, wandering around my apartment in the middle of the night and sleeping all day. Those were the only two actions I was capable of at first—pacing or sleeping.

  Things might have gone on like this indefinitely, but my aunt’s sixth sense told her something was wrong. We normally talk once or twice a week but have no schedule per se. So the fact that I didn’t contact her all weekend wasn’t unusual, but she was worried nonetheless, especially as I hadn’t told her about the teaching demonstration yet. After another day of not getting in touch, she started calling once an hour, every hour, and then, fed up, she showed up at my place on Tuesday morning. I didn’t answer the door. I’m not sure if I was avoiding people or if I was even aware of the doorbell ringing—I don’t remember. She had to go back to her place to search for the spare key, and when she came back, she brought Meghan with her.

  “I don’t know what made me so worried,” Aunt Kate told me later. “I just knew I needed to get inside your place and that I needed to do it immediately.”

  I was very lucky she did. When she and Meghan opened the door, they found me, delirious, on the floor of my kitchen, quietly crying. I hadn’t eaten in days, I was dehydrated, and I’d actually soiled myself. My aunt wanted to take me to the hospital, but Meghan talked her into letting them try to bring me out of it, a move I’m ultimately grateful for, even if it was dangerous. The two of them managed to get through to me later that afternoon, and it was like coming out of a fog. They spent the afternoon bathing me and feeding me broth and electrolytes.

  “Finally, it was like the lights came on in your eyes,” Aunt Kate told me later, tearing up. “You looked at us and you knew us.”

  “It was the scariest thing I ever saw—you were in a trance,” Meghan said, shaking her head.

  The story came spilling out of me—incoherently, I found out later, but the gist was clear. Amelia had broken up with me. They eventually got the story from me when I’d calmed down a little, but it took a few more days for me to tell them without breaking down again. Meghan and Aunt Kate had been taking turns staying with me, but they were both there the following Saturday—about a week after the breakup—when I managed to relate the whole story. First I had to back up and fill them both in about Sara. I’d been lying about her for some time now, I realized. Sara had put me in an awkward position with just about everyone I knew. While Meghan knew Sara had attacked me last fall, she didn’t know that she was Amelia’s ex. This was the first time Aunt Kate had heard anything about Sara, and she was appalled and clearly hurt that I’d hid it all from her for so long.

  Amelia’s reaction completely baffled both of them. Yes, I’d lied, and yes, I’d covered up for Sara and Daphne, but it didn’t add up.

  “There must be something more than that,” Meghan said. “It’s not enough. Is there something else?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”

  She and Aunt Kate shared a look, and I was reminded of a hundred similar looks before this. I forced myself not to speak up in Amelia’s defense. At this point I still had the instinct to stand up for her, but the words died on my lips. I had no reason to defend her anymore. She’d done exactly what Meghan and Aunt Kate had predicted all along—she’d broken my heart.

  Aunt Kate looked at her watch and tsked. “Oh, crap. I’m supposed to meet Jim for dinner.”

  “Go, Kate, please,” I said, trying to seem brave and settled. I glanced at Meghan. “You don’t have to be here either, Meghan. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

  She and Aunt Kate shared another look, and Aunt Kate patted my hand. “It’ll make me feel better if she’s here, Chloé. For now. Just until you get back on your feet again.”

  I knew they were both afraid I was suicidal, and, not sure if I was or not, I didn’t bother arguing. After getting wearily to my feet, I walked my aunt to the door and kissed her cheek before she left. I closed the door and turned to see Meghan sorting through a pile of DVDs she’d brought over.

  “I’ve got romantic comedies and regular comedies. Nothing ghoulish or scary, since I know you hate that stuff.”

  I had to smile. For Meghan to agree to watch something that wasn’t a thriller or a horror movie was a true sign of how much she wanted to comfort me.

  “I’m not sure I’m up for a movie tonight, Meghan. I’m pretty tired. I kind of want to go to bed.”

  She frowned. While she and my aunt agreed that sleeping was good for me, they both complained that I was sleeping too much. Still, I’d been up for several hours at this point and was exhausted.

  “You need to stay up for at least a little while, girly. If not a movie, how about cards? Or a board game?”

  I shook my head. “Too much thinking.”

  She sighed. “Well, at the very least you need to eat something. A few more days of the Amelia Winters Breakup Diet, and we’re going to have to buy you a whole new wardrobe.”

  She was kidding, but her remarks hit me like a fist. I barely made it to the couch before my legs gave out, and I sat down heavily, sobbing.

  Meghan moved closer, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Jesus, Chloé, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said her name, and I shouldn’t have joked about her. Are you okay?”

  I nodded and then shook my head. “J
ust felt dizzy for a moment. I’ll be okay.” I desperately tried to blink my tears away but couldn’t. Meghan pulled me into her arms, letting me cry into her hair. Eventually I calmed down enough to move away, embarrassed once again by my inability to keep my shit together.

  “The wardrobe,” I whispered, staring at my hands.

  “What?”

  “My wardrobe.” My voice was a little firmer. I met her eyes. “Amelia bought me almost everything I own.”

  Meghan’s face clouded with anger, and she looked away. I watched her expression morph from rage to pain, and then to sorrow as she tried to calm herself. She and Aunt Kate had been very careful not to say anything too deprecatory about Amelia this week, surely knowing that I wouldn’t take it well, but it had been very hard for Meghan to swallow her anger. She’s always been something of a hothead and was clearly having a hard time holding her reaction in. Finally, almost as if choking down a big bite of something she hated, she closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and looked at me again.

  “Do you want me to get rid of it?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Your wardrobe. All the things she bought you.”

  I laughed. “Hell, no!” She looked startled and I laughed again. “They’re the nicest things I’ve ever owned. I should get something out all of this, right?”

  She looked disbelieving for a moment, and then she laughed, too. This set us both into a volley of giggles, the two of us clasping each other in merriment. Eventually Meghan sat back, wiping her eyes and wheezing to catch her breath.

  “Well, I’m glad to see you’re starting to have a sense of humor about it, Chloé. I was really worried about you for a while there.” She took my hands in hers. “I hope I can stop worrying now. I can, right?”

  I took a long time responding, thinking about how I felt. I was still gutted—still hollow and bleak when I looked inside myself, but I didn’t want to kill myself. I’m not sure I ever really wanted to on a conscious level. I had almost died, or at least hurt myself, from self-neglect, but that was passive. I finally met Meghan’s eyes and nodded.