She shakes her head as words seem to fail her at this moment.
A long silence falls between us.
“But I am.” The truth falls from my lips. “Look at me. I’m a drunk.”
Emily looks up at me, her face softening a little.
“I’ve lost my muse.”
Why am I telling her this? Her face softens even more at that confession. Daniel seems to think she knows art, so I’m hoping she understands exactly what that means. “I can’t paint anymore. I mean I can paint, just not like I used to. Not like everyone wants me to.” I’ve utterly embarrassed myself now, ripping open my wound to a stranger who’s standing in front of me.
Emily’s hand comes out and rests on my arm. “Sometimes, you need to seek the darkness to find the light.”
Her words resonate with me. That’s where I am at the moment, in the darkness, but I don’t know if I’ll ever see the light again or even if I want to.
“I’m so far in the darkness, Emily, I can’t get out.”
She frowns. “Maybe it won’t happen today or tomorrow, but one day soon, you’ll push through.”
“It’s been four months, and I’m still hurt, and most definitely as angry as the day it all happened. She left me for a better, newer, younger version of this ‘washed-up’ artist.”
“Louis…” she says my name on a whisper, and I hear the pity behind the word.
“No. I don’t want your fucking pity.” I pull my arm away from her. I don’t like that look on her face. It’s full of sympathy, and I don’t want that from her. I want to see those cheeks flushed again, I want her anger, I want her angry emerald glare.
I need it.
I crave it.
“Next time knock because if I see you again when my dick is in my hand, I’m going to assume you want it.” Emily takes a step back from me, putting distance between us.
Yeah, that was a little too far, Marchant.
I turn on my heel and storm off back toward the main house before I say anything else. I grab a bottle of wine from the cupboard in the kitchen and stomp up to my room.
I need to close this chasm that’s opened up in my chest from telling Emily things I shouldn’t have.
12
Emily
“Do you do any work?” Louis storms into the kitchen, catching Gabriel and me laughing together over breakfast.
Louis has become moodier this week since his late-night confession. He showed me a vulnerable side to him that night by showing me how hurt he truly is over Elisabeth and Yves. And he was right, I did pity him because I realized I wasn’t that upset over Toby anymore, that I wasn’t missing him or pining after him. I don’t even think my heart is broken anymore, and that’s kind of sad when you think about it.
Maybe I never loved Toby?
Certainly not like Louis loved Elisabeth.
Maybe I should be losing my shit and going all Godzilla on everyone. Maybe that’s what true love is. I can’t even remember what Toby smells like, and even his voice is fading from my memory. After five years, shouldn’t those things stay with you? I mean, it’s only been three weeks since we broke up. It’s not very long, yet it feels like Toby is so in the past that he isn’t even relevant anymore.
“Seeing as it’s only seven in the morning, and I’m currently eating my breakfast, then no.”
Those blue eyes narrow. I’ve got him there.
“You don’t seem to be doing any work.” Louis’ glare has now moved to Gabriel, and he starts again, “Every morning I see you flirting with Emily when you should be bringing me my damn coffee.” With that little tirade, he storms out of the kitchen, and as he leaves, Gabriel pokes out his tongue, and I laugh.
“He’s in a great mood today,” Gabriel grumbles as he moves around the kitchen
“Yeah. You might want to warn the staff. I received a Google alert about the people who shall not be named, that they were honored in Beverly Hills for some bullshit art thing last night.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes, preparing the asshole’s coffee. Since my fateful coffee incident, Gabriel has been the one taking him his morning coffee in his studio, neither of us trusting me with the hot liquid.
“He hates those sorts of things,” Gabriel adds.
“Yeah, he might, but it still sucks seeing your ex with her new boy-toy being honored by them.” Gabriel nods in agreement. “I need to come up with something to take the focus off them on Instagram and bring it back to Louis. I can only take so many photos of his artwork. Judging by the female fan club, they want pictures of him, preferably in the nude.” I sigh. He has no idea the amount of porn I get to see daily via his social media accounts.
“Good luck with that.” Gabriel smiles.
“Maybe I should take his coffee to him today. Try and get some action shots.”
“Shouldn’t I come with you?”
“Oh geez, one mistake, and it’s being held over me. I can do it. It’s technically my job.”
Gabriel hesitantly gives me the mug of coffee, and I give him a big thankful smile.
Slowly, I make my way to his studio. I haven’t been there in over a week since I caught him jerking off. Not going to lie, the man is an asshole, and if I could poke him with white-hot iron pokers, I would, but it was the hottest thing I have ever seen. I may have, on more than one occasion, used my little vibrating friend to help me finish myself off over that spank-bank material.
Yes, I know, I’m going to hell for that.
I knock on the door loudly and wait patiently. Nothing. So, I do it again, this time harder, hurting my knuckles in the process.
Still nothing.
Shit!
I push open the door, but the studio is quiet. I make sure to look down and not trip over anything
