Page 29 of How To Not Need You

A little girl sits across the room staring at a blank page.

"What are you thinking?" I ask. She shrugs.

"I don't know how to draw."

"What do you want to draw?"

"A dragon."

"Then draw a dragon."

"I don't know what dragons look like."

I lean closer. "Nobody has agreed on what they look like either."

She blinks at me. "They haven't?"

"Nope. That's why every dragon looks different."

She thinks about that for only about three seconds before grabbing the pink paint. Naturally. Twenty minutes later she's proudly showing anyone who'll look a dragon wearing an oversized pink hat.

It's magnificent. A teacher catches my eye across the room. She mouths, thank you. I smile back. Another teacher stops beside my prints.

"I love these."

"Thanks."

"Are you an artist?"

"I'm a graphic designer." I fish a business card from my bag without thinking. "I mostly design book covers."

She slips it into her pocket. "My sister writes romance. I'd love to pass this on to her if that's alright?"

I agree easily. The two halves of my life brushing against each other for a moment before drifting apart again.

"Liv!" I turn. Tilly is proudly holding up her latest masterpiece. Apparently it's me. The purple face is still there. Now it also has glitter eyebrows.

"I'm getting better." I study it with all the seriousness it deserves.

"I think you've really captured my essence."

"I did?"

"Oh absolutely." I point towards the hair. "The hair is especially accurate."

She beams. The missing front tooth somehow makes the smile even brighter. Time loses its meaning after that. I laugh more than I have in weeks. Maybe months. Someone accidentally paints their sleeve. Someone else paints the table. A boy announces that his picture is "a dog but maybe also a sandwich." Honestly, I can see both. By the time we're cleaning brushes, my shoulders don't feel quite so tight. My phone hasn't left my pocket once. I haven't thought about work. Or deadlines. Or invoices.

I've just been here. I’m wiping stubborn streaks of purple paint from my fingers when something makes me glance towards the gym doors.

Jake’s back to collect Tilly.

Tilly is animatedly explaining something involving glitter and unicorns to two younger kids. The little girl with the dragon is adding what appears to be roller skates. The room is loud. Chaotic. Joyful. Jake isn't looking at any of it. He's looking at me. There's no expectation in his expression. No flirtation. Just quiet admiration. Like he's seeing a version of me I didn't realise existed.

Our eyes meet. Neither of us smiles. Neither of us speaks. After a second, he gives the smallest nod before turning and walking away again. I watch him disappear. Then my phone buzzes. I pull it from my pocket.

Jake: You're good at this.

That's it. No attempt to impress me. No compliment about how I look. I don't answer straight away.