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“I thought I aired most of the smell out,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Grace, I messed up. I was self-centered and arrogant and thought everything was about me. I’m sorry. I wanted to do something for you. I wanted…”
His words trailed off and I was thankful. I felt a fog in my head as I tried to understand what he was saying. He was apologizing. Was it for this past week at the office? Was it about Jared?
“Look. What’s done is done. We can’t change the past. I appreciate you owning up to it but—”
“I fucked up, didn’t I?” he said, staring at me. His eyes held mine and something in my chest thumped. It couldn’t be my heart. It just couldn’t. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. I thought maybe I could erase everything with acetone, but I can’t, can I?”
“Acetone? Luke, what the hell are you talking about?” My muscles ached and my head hurt, but I didn’t think I was so tired that I couldn’t follow a simple conversation. Yet here I was. Completely confused.
“I wanted to make it up to you. I thought if I could erase what Jared wrote...” He shook his head, frustration etched on his forehead. “If I could remake the past. Maybe it would… I don’t know… It’s silly. Forget I even came by.” He picked up the package and moved toward the elevator.
Curiosity got the best of me and the mention of Jared sparked something in my brain that I didn’t want to presume. My heart had leaped to a conclusion that was too impossible to even contemplate. But something told me I had to know what was inside that package.
“Wait,” I said, placing my hand on his bicep. It flexed when he balled his fists.
“I’m sorry I bothered you, Grace. I’m sorry—”
“What’s inside the package, Luke?”
“It’s stupid. I didn’t even do a great job of it. There are still some dark shadows, even though the words aren’t legible anymore. It’s not—”
My heart hammered in my chest.
Oh, god! Please don’t let me get my hopes up. Please don’t let it be what I think it is. I don’t know what I’d do…
I crouched down beside the brown paper and hesitantly found the opening to the package. Luke sighed and stared up at the ceiling.
It’s like a bandage, Grace. Tear it off. No use imagining something that might not be there.
So, in one swift motion, I tore off the wrapping paper. Staring back at me was a familiar gray oil paint, surrounded by the pewter brown paint my mother had purchased at the art supply store.
I sucked in a sharp breath and fought back the hot moisture gathering behind my eyes. My hand trembled as I ripped off the rest of the paper, determined, yet sick to my stomach to see the words that had made me cry years ago. But when the paper fell to the ground and I stared at the painting that had tormented me for years, they weren’t there. There were dark shadows where the letters had been, but the name was no longer etched into the painting.
I dropped to my knees and cried.
Covering my face with my hands, I didn’t even bother to wipe the tears away. All the emotions I’d closed off since high school came pouring out of my eyes and my chest loosened as I finally released them and let go of the girl I’d been ten years ago. I hadn’t realized I’d kept her tucked away in a secret place, afraid to let anyone see her—see how hurt she was. Then, in one fell swoop, I set her free.
I exhaled loudly and my shoulders shook, so I grabbed my arms and hugged myself.
“Shit, Grace. What have I done? I hadn’t considered your reaction to facing this painting again or that it might bring back bad memories. I’m such an asshole.”
He grabbed the painting and pulled it away from me. The fog cleared and the pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place.
“You went back to our high school,” I said more to myself, having already pieced it together. “You dug up my painting and sent it to be restored.”
“No. I tried to do it myself. The guy I called said he couldn’t do it and it would take weeks to send it to someone in New York City. I didn’t think I had that long. I wasn’t sure if I would see you again after this week.”
“Why did you do this? Are you trying to make up for what happened in high school?”
“Yes. And no. All I could think about was turning back time. I wanted you to have your painting without someone else’s stupidity on it.”
I nodded.
“But I didn’t think it through. I didn’t realize how much it would affect you.” He tucked the painting underneath his arm. “I’ll just put it back at the school. You don’t need to look at it again.”
