Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m weak. Goddesses are strong.”
“Even the strongest people eventually fall, Meg,” Axel reminded me. He brushed some tears off my cheeks. “Be his goddess, and rise above the demons, sweet girl. There is light at the end of this dark tunnel, and I promise you, he’s there waiting at the end for you. You just have to make it to him. He can’t rescue you anymore. It’s time for you to be your own hero.”
My body shook with sobs. “I want Julian,” I cried, speaking his name for the first time in weeks.
Axel wrapped me up in his arms, holding me tight to his chest. “He’s waiting on you, sweet girl. You have to get to him. Fight, sweet girl. You have to fight.”
* * *
✶ ✶ ✶
* * *
Dr. Gresham led me into a room that smelled distinctly of paint chemicals. I looked around me, my eyes widening in awe as I took in the room around me.
There were paintings hanging up on the wall all over the room. They were dark, some not even making sense, but it was like the pain I felt in my soul was reflected in the art.
“Some patients find comfort in being able to release their feelings in art,” Dr. Gresham informed me. “I want you to give it a try. The painting doesn’t even have to make sense. But as long as you see what you want there, that’s all that matters.”
“Can I?” I asked, desperate to do something with my hands, anything to keep my mind off of Julian.
Dr. Gresham hadn’t said anything about me finally acknowledging Julian by his real name since Axel’s visit a week ago, and I was happy about it. I wasn’t ready to talk about him yet, and I still wasn’t ready to discuss the baby we had lost.
It was still too raw.
Dr. Gresham led me over to an easel that was already set up with everything that I would need. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check on your progress.” He gave me a stern look. “Do not wander. I’m trusting you to stay in this room, Meghan.”
“Okay,” I told him as I settled on the stool, thankful I had followed his instructions to wear clothes that I didn’t care about that day.
He left the room, leaving me in silence. I picked up a paintbrush and began to just let my mind lead me, letting the paint reveal all of the torment I felt inside.
* * *
✶ ✶ ✶
* * *
Julian’s face was staring back at me from the painting, his blue eyes staring at me with the same love and adoration he used to always look at me with before I destroyed his heart and killed his baby. His dark, curly hair was falling over onto his forehead like it always did. It never mattered how much he combed or tried to style his hair; it always did whatever it wanted.
I had painted over his face with light strokes of dark colors so he was looking back at me through all of the pain I was feeling.
It was almost as if he were coaxing me towards him like he always managed to do. I had never had good defenses against him, and even now, I craved him like I craved my next breath.
“Is that Julian?” Dr. Gresham asked me.
My bottom lip trembled as I nodded and reached forward, gently placing my fingers over his painted lips, wishing I had him right in front of me instead of just on a piece of canvas—a dark, torn part of my memory.
“You have a beautiful talent, Meghan,” Dr. Gresham commented. “Have you ever painted before?”
I shook my head. “I’ve drawn before, though. But the last time I did that was before my mother tried to drown me.”
Dr. Gresham settled his hand over my shoulder. “I think we just found you a new outlet,” he said softly, happiness for me in his voice. “Would you like me to let you be for a while longer?”
I shook my head and stood up from the stool, suddenly feeling extremely tired and drained as I continued to stare at the beautiful blue eyes that would forever haunt my soul.
“I want to sleep,” I said quietly.
19
Julian
* * *
Axel stepped into the frat house and kicked his shoes off, pushing the door closed behind him. “How did it go?” I asked him, referring to his most recent visit with Meghan. He’d been visiting her every Wednesday since the first visit, being a constant in her life since she wasn’t ready for me to step back in yet.
He held out a box to me. It was flat, but it was pretty large. “Be careful with that,” he warned me. I frowned, gently taking the box from him. “Remember how I told you she was doing art therapy?” he asked me. I nodded once, looking away from the box in my hands to him. “That’s the very first painting she did. She did it over a month ago, but she’s finally ready for you to see that one.” He shrugged his coat off and hung it up. “Well, what are you waiting on, Julian?” he demanded. “Open it.”