Chapter 7 #3
The truth was, her muse wasn’t just this nebulous thing. After a while she’d realized . . . Jake was her muse. And he’d been her muse for so long. But she’d finally forced herself to give up on him, finally accepted that
she could never have him. She couldn’t allow herself to bare her soul to him. They’d always been honest with each other—to
a point. She’d kept her love for him locked up deep within her heart. She couldn’t allow herself to be that vulnerable. If
she did, then he’d tell her that he didn’t care about her that way, and it would not only destroy her heart but also demolish
their friendship.
Instead of responding, Emily scooted away from him slightly, trying to put some space between them. “Jake, being an artist,
a full-time artist, is not as easy as you think.”
“Nothing that’s worth it is easy.”
He was right, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
Silence drifted over the room, and Jake’s brow furrowed while he studied her as if she were an intricate puzzle. Tension filled
the space between them, and she longed to read his thoughts.
Finally, Jake stood and held out his hand to her. “Come with me.”
She threaded her fingers with his before he lifted her to her feet and towed her across the hall to his old bedroom, which
his folks had converted into an office after he moved out. A desk, a few filing cabinets, and a sofa replaced his double bed
and dressers. But the walls were still the same pale blue as they’d been when it was Jake’s room.
“Check it out.” He pointed to the far wall where a large painting of downtown Splendid Lake decorated for the holidays hung.
Emily sucked in air while she perused the painting. She’d created it for her senior project, and she’d spent weeks on it—adding
the details of the glowing Christmas tree, the lights illuminating each store window, decorations adorning every light post,
and the townspeople enjoying the evening.
The painting had won first prize in a local art show, and it had hung in her parents’ den from the day she brought it home
until she sold the house. After that, it had been packed up in the Hugheses’ basement for the past four years.
“When did your mom hang it here?” she asked Jake.
“I hung it here shortly after you left for Charlotte. I went down to the basement looking for something and came across your
paintings. When I saw this one, I decided it needed to be enjoyed, not hidden away and forgotten. This is your masterpiece.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder. “You’re talented—really, really talented. You need to share that talent with the world, not hide it away like you hid this painting in my parents’ basement.”
She cupped her hand to her mouth as his words unlocked something deep inside her. She tried in vain to swallow back the emotion
and spun away from him, but it was too late. Tears filled her eyes, and her shoulders began to shake.
“Hey.” He came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice was low in her
ears, sending a quiver dancing up and down her spine. “I just wanted to say that I believe in you.”
“You were always the only one who ever did.” Her voice was raspy.
“That’s not true.”
She spun to face him. “It is.” She pointed to the painting. “When I won that art award, I got a small scholarship. I told
my parents I wanted to be a professional artist, and they said I was wasting my talent. They wanted me to become a college
professor like my dad or a pediatrician like my mom, but all I ever wanted to do was draw and paint. They were so disappointed
in me when I went to school to become an art teacher.”
“You never told me that.” His words were soft, and he looked stricken. “Why did you keep it from me?”
“Because it was too painful to share.” She rested her hand flat against his chest. “You’re the only one who thought I could
be an artist, and I let you down.” Now her tears were flowing like a waterfall, and she felt like an idiot for losing it in
front of him—again!
Why couldn’t she keep it together when she was around Jake?
“Get over here.” He pulled her into his arms.
She basked in the comfort his strong arms provided, and she worked to get her tears under control. For a few moments, she
imagined Jake was hers and they were in a real relationship, but then she shook herself back to reality and stepped out of
his arms.
Emily plucked a tissue from a box on the desk and wiped her eyes and nose.
He touched her arm. “I still believe in you. You need to learn how to believe in yourself.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat and pointed to the painting. “Thanks for getting my painting out of the basement.” She tossed
the tissue into a small trash can under the desk and picked up a notepad and a pen. “Let’s make a plan for the barn.” She
sat in one of the office chairs, then studied the notepad and tried to ignore how her heart suddenly craved more hugs from
Jake than ever. “When do you think the roof will be done?”
“I’d imagine by the end of the week, since four of us are working on it.” He sank down beside her, and while he discussed
the barn, she tried to dismiss her longing to crawl back into his protective arms and stay there forever.