I drew the moment when he held me in a tight embrace after the housewarming party. I drew the kiss he stole from me in the car outside of the C&G Records, and the way he pressed my back against his chest when he told me to recall his lips on my skin and the tone of his voice.
All of it was captured there: our fingers interlocked; his lips on my forehead; my smile when he arrived early from Madrid; even the support in his eyes when he told me I was a survivor.
Thomas pointed to a sketch of me straddling him the night we admitted to wanting more than just sex.
“That’s when I realised that I was in love with you.” He turned to look at me. “Every one of those is of us. Me andyou. Not the puppet you use in all the other paintings.”
“When I’m with you, I amme.”
Every day with him brought me closer to normality. Breathing got easier; fear subsided. Since we moved in together, the compulsive sketching stopped, and maybe that was why looking through the art triggered my nightmares again.
They weren’t half as intense with Thomas’s arms around me, though. I didn’t wake up screaming or crying, just gasping for air and trembling. He considered calling off his trip to Madrid, not wanting to leave me alone for the night, but I managed to convince him otherwise. One night wasn’t something I couldn’t handle, but just in case, a bottle of sleeping pills was tucked in the nightstand drawer.
Thomas placed the sketchpad aside, tugging on my hand until I sat astride on his laps. “Thank you for showing me this.”
“Thank you for being my happy place.” I pressed my finger to his cheekbones, sealing his lips with an affectionate kiss. “I have something to ask you, but before I do, please don’t feel obliged to agree, okay? I know this whole situation is difficult as it is, and I don’t expect…”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “Can you just say what you want to say instead of telling me what my reaction should be?”
I pursed my lips. “Fine. James thinks it might be a good idea for you to come with me to one of the therapy sessions…”
“Okay,” he cut in.
“I wasn’t done talking.”
“I know,” he chuckled, patting my bum. “Come on; I need a smoke.”
He grabbed my coat from the hanger in the hallway and draped it over my shoulders. The railing surrounding the balcony was covered in a thin layer of frost, the tiled floor slippery. Midnight was just over three hours away, but it didn’t stop people from setting off fireworks early. The sky lit up in pink on our right, then in blue on our left, the displays short, cheap, and pointless.
Thomas offered me his Zippo, resting his elbows on the railing, watching the quiet road beneath. “I’ve wanted to go to therapy with you for a while now. There are some things I want to ask James, and I’m sure he’ll tell me how I can help you more.”
“There’s more to my issues than I expected.” I blew out a cloud of smoke. “Since that we’ve talked through certain things, James showed me where I went wrong,butI’ll let him explain. Now, I think we should join my brother and the rest of the gang.”
Nicholas gave us tickets to some fancy New Year’s Eve party on a yacht down at the Royal Docks. We didn’t feel like going at first, but now I thought we could both use some time to unwind.
***
The day before the vernissage, Thomas flew out to Madrid. I was thirty-six hours away from showcasing my paintings for a wide audience of art connoisseurs, and the moment Thomas left the house at eight o’clock in the morning, I got cold feet.
When Thomas left, Chase appeared, ready to help and keep my spirits high. On my request, either Mel or Nick kept us company the whole time. Thomas wasn’t Adrian-level jealous, but he wasn’t pleased about me spending time alone with Chase, and I didn’t want to upset him. Besides, an extra pair of hands was in demand at all times. I had no idea how much work went into preparing an art exhibition.
We sent out over one hundred personalised invitations, and Nick took care of advertising the event online.
On Wednesday, Mel helped me pick my clothes and did my hair while Chase made sure I knew my opening speech off by heart. Thomas called around two o’clock to say his flight has been delayed, and he wouldn’t make it back on time for the opening.
We arrived at the venue thirty minutes ahead of time, but the nerves kept me company for a long time.
“Still no sight of Thomas?” Chase asked, joining me in the foyer shortly after my opening speech. “Did he call?”
“Not yet,” I glanced at my wristwatch, “but he should be landing anytime now. He texted me two hours ago, just before take-off.”
Chase draped his hand across my shoulders. “Come on, you can have a short break while the crowd is busy admiring the exhibition.”
We walked outside, hiding under the small canopy outstretched above the main entrance. I lit a cigarette, resting my back on the wall, my lips fixed into a permanent smile.
“Thank you,” I said looking at Chase who cringed every time I blew out a cloud of smoke. “This is a dream come true.”
“My pleasure. You’re very talented, Nadia. It would be a waste not to let others see your work.”