Page 47 of Painting Her Fate

*Strong Scottish lass* Fight the monster, Lili. Show it your strength. You can do this. Get off the damned floor- take a deep breath- roll your shoulders back- raise your chin- and soar high.

Part of me doesn’t understand, it was all going so well- then, just like that- it flipped.How did I allow this to go so far?

With Zane, he was sat down and made clear I wouldn’t ever talk about my scars; just one of the many things listed in the Non-Disclosure Agreement Tamara put together for me. I have NEVER allowed a man to see as much of me or touch me the way Zander had moments ago.

What do I do? My inner battle rages on.

Demand he leave.

Would he go without a fight?

This is your house; make him leave. It’s over now.

No, it’s not over. He is going to ask questions when he sees me at the

bar.

Fine. Tell him, ‘thanks for the opportunity but with your schedule, you do not have the free time.’

I think about who all I’d be disappointing; it’s not only Zander who would be crushed. I can’t do that to Trent.

Fine then, stay. I don’t know what to tell you.

Gah! What to do?

You need to be strong, lass. Own who you are, not what has been done to you.Gran’s words of encouragement and positivity ring true then.

She’s right.

After a few minutes, I splash water on my face then make sure my walls are solid before I open the door to confront Alexander.

By the time I make my way back to the main room with a towel, Zander has everything cleaned, his shirt is back on, and that stony mask set in place. Part of me is wanting to curl into a ball and weep at his feet, the other is screaming for me to kick him out, be done with him.

He already knows too much.

His ringtone sounds again, and he mutters a curse before answering,

“hello?” His tone is clipped, body tense, then relaxes the littlest bit. “No mom, for you, it’s never a bad time.” He paused to listen then sighs as he walks towards the dining table.

I make myself a new cuppa whilst trying not to eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Yes mom, I’ll be there. Do you need anything?” He turns around glancing my way and not looking away.

I don’t make eye contact with him as he says his goodbye, places his mobile in his pocket, then rounds the kitchen island to stand in front of me.

“Don’t.” I held my hands up, asking him not to come any closer.

His nod is forced, a pain in his expression, “That’s fine.” He must tell I had been crying as he studies my face, “are you okay? Is it something I did?” He takes a step closer, “I can’t fix it if-”

“There is no way to fix this-fix me.” I let a few stray tears fall. Curse this emotional day. “It will be best if you not even try. I’m not what you need.”

I bow my head in defeat. I can’t do it anymore, not today, at least.

*Bold* “You will not be the judge of what I need.” Zander takes another step closer, his tone conveying empathy as he stands tall. His hands cup my cheeks, lifting my gaze to meet his. His tone softens, “you do not need fixed. To me, you’re mended ever so exquisitely.”

I peer into his eyes, needing a distraction as I blink back tears; the streams of hazel are bright against the dark gray clouds surrounding them. They are not full of pity as I expected, but rather thoughtfulness.I will put these eyes in my sketchbook tomorrow. Absolutely stunning.

Minutes pass as we stand there, his thumbs swiping at the stray tears leaking through. I’m embarrassed to let my emotions show themselves in front of anyone, this man however, he knows what it’s like to endure pain. Being a Marine tells a general story, one I know he will not be so inclined to discuss.

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