Every Day (Brush of Love 2)

“Do you think he believed me?” I asked.

“Believed what?”

“The things I told him about what happened to his brother. With all the deception, do you think he even believed me?”

“At this point, I’m liable to think it might be a good thing if he doesn’t for now. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling, much less trying to digest something like that,” she said.

“My gosh, I bet he’d be even angrier at me,” I said breathlessly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get him back.”

“Just try this,” she said. “Just start coping with that reality. Move forward like you won’t get him back. Go through the grieving and healing process. If he comes back to you, it’s a pleasant surprise. If he doesn’t, you’ve already started the process of coping, so the reality of the situation won’t be so hard. But there’s something I need you to understand.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“What happened to John’s brother. The criminals. The student. The murder. The other stuff. It’s not your fault. Do you hear me?”

“I feel like it is some days,” I said.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t carry that guilt around. If Bryan doesn’t forgive you, then so be it, but don’t be like him. Don’t let it consume you. You have your gallery. You have your community that you’re reaching into. You’re doing a great deal of good. Bryan will make the decision he makes, and there’s nothing you can do about it but keep moving forward.”

“When did you get so smart?” I asked.

“When I graduated with this idiotic law degree,” she said, snickering. “Getting right off that topic, have you given any more thought to showing John’s paintings? I know you hung up the cabin painting as a decoration, and people were trying to buy it right off the wall.”

“I don’t want to show them until I’ve reconciled with Bryan. Good or bad, it doesn’t feel right to showcase them until Bryan knows they’re being hung. Having that one up as a decoration and seeing how people flocked to it felt wonderful, but it didn’t feel right.”

“I can see that,” she said. “You feel like it might be insult to injury.”

“Exactly. The last time we saw each other, we were talking about him, and it led to one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. I don’t want to walk into this gallery and see those paintings and be reminded of heartbreak. I want to walk in and look at those paintings and be reminded of the beautiful soul behind them who painted them, and I want Bryan to e

njoy them too. Maybe even his parents, if they ever come around.”

“Yeah, after that dinner you told me about, maybe not bank on that so much,” she said.

“I don’t want to put them up yet. I’m not ready, and it doesn’t feel right.”

“Putting them up might give closure to everyone involved though, right?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. I can’t imagine something like that bringing closure to something so horrendous.”

“Depends on how you interpret it. Yes, it was a horrendous thing, and the decisions made by many parties after it resulted in the fight you and Bryan had. But there’s beauty in those paintings, and out of all that awfulness and darkness, there are these wonderful paintings that deserve to see the light of day.”

“I’m just not ready, okay?” I asked. “Can you respect that?”

“Okay. All right. Fine. I’ll back off.”

“Tell me about your voice lessons,” I said.

“And rob you of the decadence of boxed wine while we chat about them face-to-face? Not so much.”

“Finally figured out buying boxed wine is cheaper than buying five bottles?” I asked.

“Buy a bundle. Yikes. I saved, like, thirty bucks.”

“You are more than welcome anytime,” I said, smiling. “Just warn me before you’re at the airport in San Diego that I need to come get you.”

“I was desperate! It was an emergency.”

“I know, I know, and I’m glad you felt comfortable fleeing to me. Speaking of, how are things with Mom and Dad?” I asked.