Deep in Desire - Page 34

Esme sighed. “I just want her to be happy. She is older for her years, and I do know Deb will look after her, but it’s so much to process still.”

“Of course it is, but you’re her mother and she needs you more than ever.” Nora replied.

The following day, Holly woke up with a pounding headache and a sense of regret. She remembered the conversation with her mother and Nora and realized that she had acted impulsively during the breakup with Deborah. Over the next few days, Holly decided to give up her internship. It was a tough decision, but she knew she needed time to heal and figure out her next steps. She also knew that bumping into Deborah at the office was thelastthing she needed. She had to clear her head and come to terms with what had happened before she could even think about talking to Deborah. So, she asked her mom if she could sub her rent for a while and enrolled in an art group, hoping to find solace and clarity through her painting. It was a small community of artists who met two or three times a week, sharing their work and offering support and encouragement.

Holly immersed herself in her art, pouring all her pain and confusion onto the canvas. The act of creating felt surprisingly therapeutic, helping herprocess her emotions and gain a new perspective on her life. She spent hours at the art studio, surrounded by the comforting smell of paint and the quiet hum of the creativity of her newfound friends. It was just what she needed.

One day, as she was working on a particularly challenging piece of découpage, Cam, who had recently joined the group, made her way over to Holly, who was sitting in full concentration mode at her easel. “Hey, Holly. Mind if we have a little chat? I never get a chance to talk to you, and I haven’t seen you down at the Indigo in ages. Where have you been?”

Holly looked up, actually feeling pretty grateful for the familiar company. “Sure, Cam. I’d love that. I had no idea you were a budding artist.”

“You know what? I’ve never really found my passion. Unless you count pleasing women.”

“Cam! Someone will hear!”

Cam was a few years older than Holly and didn’t exactly have a calm and reflective demeanor. Holly had heard that women flocked around Cam, and as she looked at her angular jawline and bright eyes, she could see why, even if her cringy banter was too much for most. As they painted side by side, Holly found herselfopening up to Cam about her relationship with Deborah.

“I feel like I didn’t give her a chance to explain, or any chance at all,” Holly admitted, her brush strokes slow and deliberate. “I was so caught up in my own hurt feelings that I didn’t stop to consider what she was going through.”

Cam nodded thoughtfully. “It’s easy to get lost in our own pain. But it sounds like there’s more to the story than you realized. I like Debs. I get on with her fine. I knew about her divorce, but I assumed you did, too. Maybe it’s worth talking to her again? Or maybe you should forget all about her and hit the clubs with me. You’re too young to settle down. There’s a lot of women out there.”

“Oh, I had plenty of fun in Australia. I think my one-night-stand days should stay in the past. I’m not interested in going down that road again. You’re right, though. I’ve been so focused on my own feelings that I forgot about hers. I need to be more self-aware, more mature.”

Cam smiled encouragingly. “It takes a lot of strength to admit that, Holly. You know what? I remember Debs telling Harper and me about you. She was absolutely gushing. You two were on the right path; it’s worth fighting for.”

Over the next few weeks, Holly continued to hone her skills, her art reflecting the evolution of her emotional journey. She painted scenes of love and loss, of hope and healing. Each brushstroke felt like a step toward self-discovery. She’d always enjoyed painting, and had even started exhibiting a little in Australia, but this group was helping her focus her talent and turn it into something that she felt might be a success. But as happy as she was in the art group, when she was away from her oils she still felt broken. Deborah hadn’t called or texted. Nothing.

Should I make the first move or is it too late?

One evening, after a particularly intense art session, Holly sat down with Cam to discuss her next steps. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Deborah,” she said, her voice steady. “I realize now that I need to fight for our relationship. I’ve had time to reflect, and hopefully she has too, but I need her in my life.”

Cam flashed her new friend a wide smile. “You go, girl! What do you plan to do? I wanna hear everything.”

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I think I’ll start by reaching out to her,” Holly said, herdetermination clear. “I want to apologize for not listening, for not being there for her.”

“Yeah, that’d be a good start. And if it doesn’t work, you or Debs can always fall back on me because I’m going through a bit of a dry spell, and I’d gladly take either of you. Or both. You say the word.”

“You’re relentless and I have no idea how your charm gets so many women into bed,” Holly rolled her eyes as she laughed it off.

Cam flexed, puffing out her chest before replying, “Honestly, neither do I!”

13

DEBORAH

Deborah woke to the sound of rain pattering softly against her bedroom window. The gray light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting a somber hue over her room.

God! What a miserable start to the day.

She lay still for a moment, listening to the rain and the steady beat of her heart. She couldn’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Today was the day she would go visit Daniel. It had been too long since they had talked, really talked, about everything that had happened. She needed to see him, to find some clarity and perhaps some solace. She hadn’t told him she’d be showing up, butseeing as he never answered her calls, she couldn’t see what choice she had.

She packed a small suitcase, choosing comfortable clothes for her stay on Daniel’s farm. As she zipped it shut, she felt a mix of apprehension and determination. This visit was long overdue.

The drive to Daniel’s farm took a few hours, giving Deborah plenty of time to be alone with her thoughts. The countryside unfurled around her, lush and green with the vibrancy of summer.

Well, this is nice. The weather out here is so much better than in the city.

The air was fragrant with the scent of fresh rain on earth, a soothing balm to her anxious mind. It was one of her favorite smells. She rolled down the windows to let the cool breeze in, its freshness mingling with the subtle scent of wildflowers and freshly cut grass.