Page 90 of That Fake Feeling
I’vegot this.
Iopen the door to hearConnortalking to someone.
There’sa lightness in his voice, the same sense of natural joyIfirst heard in him atTheLearningVillage.It’slike his life has taken a different path these last few weeks.Sohas mine.Butthose two paths probably lead in completely different directions.
Hisbag sits unzipped at the end of the hallway.Hemust have been in it to get his laptop, to make the call he’s on.Scatteredaround the bag are a pair of socks, his toiletry bag, and a spiral-bound notebook.
AsIget closer, the words on the front come into view.ProSeriesSketchbook.
Oh, myGod, he’s brought a sketchpad.
Icrouch next to it while he chats away on the other side of the wall.
Itouch the corner of the cover and start to lift it.
No.
Idrop it like it stung my finger.
Thatwould be wrong.Anintrusion.Aninvasion of his privacy.
Ifhe’d wanted me to see, he would have shown me.
Istand up and look down at it.
Butmaybe it’s empty.Maybeit’s brand new and he bought it specifically to bring to the beach to start his sketching again with these beautiful surroundings as his inspiration.
Yeah, it’s probably just blank pages.
Icrouch back down and flip open the cover.
Islap my hand over my mouth to hold in my gasp.
Staringup at me is a detailed drawing of a bee.Onits back.Ona windowsill.It’sso beautiful, it looks like it’s been printed rather than produced by a human hand.
He’sbeen drawing again.Andhe’s amazing.
Iflip the page.
There’sa sketch of the view from his roof terrace.Rowsof rooftops, spires, converted warehouses, and a setting sun.Hemust have been back there.
So, not only has he rekindled his artistic talents, but he’s also revisited the beautiful part of his home that he hadn’t used for months until he took me up there onMondayevening.Andhe must be planning to sketch some more this weekend while he enjoys this amazing house he never uses.
Ishe starting to see what he has, in terms of talents and possessions, and how to enjoy them all?
Iclose my eyes and take two more deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
ThankGodIadded the clause to my contract about the day atTheLearningVillage.Itmight just have reopened his passion and his eyes.
Icarefully close the sketchbook cover and stand up.
Hemight be remarkable, but nothing changes the fact he’s all wrong for me.AndI’mall wrong for him.Butat least when this is all over, he might be on the right path to finding some joy in his life.
Iround the corner to findConnor’smoved to the dining table, where he sits facing me and looking at his laptop.
“She’shere.Holdon,” he says to the screen.
Hebeams at me and waves me over to sit next to him.Thesparkle in his eyes is obvious from here.Thisman is alive now.
