I flinch when Alyssa clicks on the image and it takes up the entire screen.
“She’s pretty.”
There’s a faraway quality filling Alyssa’s voice. As if she’s talking to me from beneath the water. Then again, everything around me feels murky, so maybe I’m the one who has been shoved under the surface.
I focus on Candace’s profile, attempting to dissect it almost objectively.
When I was little, I remember thinking that my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. Even wearing paint-splattered shirts and jeans with her hair tied up in a blue bandana to keep it away from her face, she was still beautiful. The handful of times I was allowed to watch her work, I remember a look of utter concentration steeling over her face. Maybe the shell of her body was there with me, but Candace was off someplace else. There was always an air of remoteness to her. As if she was nothing more than whisps of smoke that my fingers could slide through. That feeling always made me want to wrap my arms around her and hold tight. I was so frightened that she would simply vanish.
And then she did.
“It says that she owns a gallery where her work is exclusively displayed,” Alyssa murmurs.
The words are like a gunshot in the stillness of the room. When I remain silent, trapped in the past, she clicks on the blurb, pulling up another full page of information. A heaviness fills my chest as I skim over the paragraphs. A few likenesses of her paintings and the gallery are showcased. It’s the last picture that has me wheezing out an agonizing breath.
“Oh.” Alyssa shifts on the bed as her hand moves from my thigh to squeeze my fingers.
It’s one of a happy family.
Candace is seated alongside an older man. Each of them holds a child in their arms. One is a boy, and the other is a girl. Both are blond with dark eyes that resemble Candace’s. They are the spitting image of her. Heads bent together, all four beam at the camera.
“Colton?” Alyssa clenches my hand when I remain mute. “Are you all right?”
There’s that faraway quality again. It makes the edges of my vision blur, and her voice sound as if it’s traveling over a great distance. It’s funny, I didn’t think it was possible for this woman to inflict any more pain than she already has, but I was wrong. My chest constricts, making it difficult to breathe.
“Colton?” Concern floods through her voice. “Please talk to me.”
A ragged sound escapes from between my lips.
It’s carefully that Alyssa pulls the computer from my hands before setting it on the desk at the far side of the room and returning to the bed where I sit frozen in place. She maneuvers her way between my legs before threading her arms around my neck. With her standing so close, I have no other choice but to tilt my chin in order to meet her worried gaze.
My first instinct is to shut down so the pain-riddled emotion rampaging through me is stopped dead in its tracks before it can inflict further damage. If I do that, I’ll close myself off from Alyssa, and that will only push her further away when all I want to do is hold her close.
It doesn’t escape me that this situation is completely self-induced. If I hadn’t gone looking for Candace, I would still be unaware of her new family. I shutter my eyes and allow the grief to crash over me like a tsunami.
Her hands grip my face, forcing me to acknowledge that I’m not alone in this moment. I take a breath and force out the words. “I’m all right.”
That’s a lie.
Her lips feather across mine before she whispers, “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Should I leave? Would you rather be alone?”
The thought of being left to my own devices with all this foreign emotion crashing around inside me is a frightening one. “No, I want you to stay.”
“Okay.”
We stare at each other for a long heartbeat. Instead of dwelling on Candace, I focus on each steady inhalation as it fills my lungs. One breath. Then another. My gaze stays pinned to Alyssa. She’s the only thing grounding me in the here and now.
My head falls forward, resting between the gentle swells of her breasts. Her hands rise, fingers tunneling through the strands, holding me close. There is something so comforting in the way she touches me.
Before I can fully sink into her embrace, she steps away. I open my mouth to protest the distance when Alyssa’s fingers settle on the hem of her T-shirt. For a moment, they hesitate. And then she’s dragging the soft cotton up her body and over her head. My gaze skims across bare breasts as she shimmies out of the sleep shorts. The material slides down her thighs before revealing her slim form. Not giving me time to soak in the sight, she grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. With quick fingers, she strips off my clothing until I’m standing before her, as naked as she is.