Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I finally managed to finish the painting of me and Ares. I cried the whole time.
But it was cathartic, you know?
The final brushstroke was like the closing of that chapter in my life.
I have considered sending the painting to him, as I promised him that he could have it when it was finished. But that was when we were still together, and now, we’re not. I don’t know if he’ll still want it.
So, for now, I’m hanging on to it.
Although it’s in my hallway closet because looking at it makes me want to cry.
On the subject of things that make me want to cry, but more with anger…I received a call from Officer Knight, who had taken my statement about my complaint against Leo. She said that they had spoken with him, and he, of course, denied any wrongdoing. And they couldn’t check the CCTV footage from that night, as there wasn’t a working camera on the bar. So, it basically came down to my word against his. She apologized that there was nothing more she could do. I felt angry, but it wasn’t her fault. She was just doing her job. So, I thanked her for trying for me and hung up.
My dad was not happy when I told him. His exact words were, “That’s fucking bullshit.”
Then, he ranted a little, and I let him. Honestly, it’s nice to see him showing me that he cares about me even if it did take such a shitty thing to happen for him to start doing so.
Do I want to drink?
More than anything.
I’ve had bad days, but I’ve handled them.
As well as painting, I’ve gotten back into my yoga. I let it slide a little when Ares and I started dating.
Now that I’m single…I’m reverting to life pre-Ares, just not as desperately pathetic.
Okay, it’s a little pathetic. I’ve gotten reacquainted with my good buddy Netflix.
I’ve still got Dexter on there, waiting for me to watch the next episode…but it wouldn’t feel right, watching it without Ares sitting here beside me. So, I removed it from my list.
Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to watch it alone.
But that day isn’t today—or anytime soon.
But I’m not being a total loser all the time. I’ve been spending a lot of time with my dad. Okay, that is sad. But I think he’s trying to make things up to me, all his past failings, and I’m more than happy to let him.
He’s the only family I’ve got left.
I also spoke to Luke. He called and apologized for telling Ares what had really happened to me that night.
But I understood. He cares about me as a friend, and honestly, when you don’t have that many people who care about you, you hold on to the ones you do have.
Ares cares about you, that annoying voice in my head whispers.
Yeah, well, if he did really care, then he would’ve believed me when I told him the truth.
And, now, I’m arguing with myself.
Great.
I push open the door to the art store. I’ve run out of a few oil colors and need to stock up.
I walk inside, smiling at the girl behind the counter. Her hair is long and dyed different colors, like unicorn hair.
It’s cool.
Not that I’d ever have the balls to dye my hair like that.
I’ve just walked down the aisle where the oil paints I use are when I hear my name being called.
“Arianna Petrelli?”
I turn at the voice, and a smile breaks out on my face. “Declan Wiseman.”
Dec and I used to go to art college together.
“How the hell are you doing?” he asks as he comes over to give me a hug.
“I’m good.” I smile at him as I pull away.
“It’s been how long since we last saw each other?”
The sad thing is, I can’t actually remember the last time I saw him. Because most of those years and the subsequent ones blend together.
“Too long,” I say instead.
“Hey, you fancy having a coffee? There’s a coffee shop a few doors down.”
“I’d love that.” I smile again. “Just let me grab these paints, and then I’m good.”
I get what I need, and we head to the counter together. Dec pays for his charcoals. He does charcoal drawings, and from my memory, they are amazing.
I pay for my paints, and then we head out of the store together and take the short walk to the coffee shop.
We order coffees, and Dec insists on paying for mine. Then, we take a seat by the window.
“So, what are you up to nowadays?” Dec asks me. No hint that he’s seen the news stories about me recently or earlier this year.
“I was working for a gallery there for a few years, but I, um…lost my job…and…” I pick my coffee cup up, sipping it, delaying my words. Be truthful, Ari. Stop hiding who you are. I put my cup down and look up at him. “The truth is, I had a drinking problem, and I got in some trouble earlier this year, as I had an accident while drunk-driving, so I had to go into rehab, and I lost my job at the gallery.”