Page 129 of Off-Limits
It still hurts, however, with each day that passes, it gets a little bit easier. I miss mum more than I ever could have imagined, and I’m so thankful we reconnected those few weeks before she passed, seeing past the hungry ghosts of our own pasts, and focusing on the present.
I wish I had more time with her, but I’ve come to learn that the more I dwell on the what if’s, the worse I seem to spiral into the abyss that threatens to still swallow me whole sometimes.
Thankfully, Arrie and Damon have been right by my side.
And although I’ve always said I’d never move back to Barrenridge, Damon talked me into selling my place in Sydney.
What the idiot failed to mention was, he brought us a cabin outside of Rafter’s Falls. This cute as shit little log cabin, with a wraparound veranda that overlooks the mountains with a part of the river running out the back.
It’s stunning.
And part of why I’m I standing at the front of Fellow Falls art gallery, wringing my hands, the cool autumn breeze lifting my elegant dress that I feel entirely uncomfortable wearing. I would much prefer my overalls and Chucks, but Arrie and Damon scolded me, so here I fucking am.
Assholes.
I smile at the memory, though, looking around the area while I wait for Damon to bring my artwork from the truck. Nerves and anxiety settle deep into my bones, especially seeing I am showcasing the most vulnerable piece I’ve ever painted. Of all the places to showcase it, it’s in Rafter’s Falls, an hour from my old hometown.
I really don’t want to see anyone I know tonight, and being so close to Barrenridge, the odds are not in my favour. This art gallery only ever has one show a year, and it invites artists from all over the damn country.
Fuck. I think I’m going to be sick.
“You look like you’re about to vomit all over the damn front door of the gallery, Wench,” Arrie pipes up cheerily.
“Piss off, bitch, this is serious as shit.”
“As shit,” she drawls, and I glare at her smirking pretty face.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Not even a little bit,” I reply, the small smile breaking through with her choice of distraction.
“You girls fighting again?” Damon calls out, and when I look up to see him with all my paintings under his arm, those fucking sinful muscly arms that pinned me against the wall not even an hour ago…
Damon smirks, clearly knowing what dirt road my mind was trekking down.
I stick my tongue out at him, and he chuckles, closing the distance between us. His stormy eyes glimmer under the lights above, however when Arrie pretends to dry retch, I duck my head.
“You guys are fucking gross. I seriously don’t know if I will ever get used to this.”
“Stop it, baby girl, you know I still love you.”
“Ew, dad, this is not the time!”
“Hey babe!” Adam calls out, and Arrie almost breaks her neck turning and looking around.
I see the exact moment she deflates, and I know it’s because Connor isn’t with him. Although Adam and Arrie are back together, that damn ring shimmering under the bright lights, I know things are up in the air with Connor and the two of them.
Whatever is happening with those three is not my business, not unless Arrie wants it to be, and right now, I know she’s not ready to reveal the sordid details.
I’ll be her sounding board and her confidant for however long she needs, but what I do know, is that we all have skeletons in our closets, some more than others. Nothing is ever perfect, whether they look it on the surface or not. And right now, as Arrie smiles up at Adam with her loving gaze, his love reflecting back at her, I can tell she isn’t complete.
She misses Connor.
Alas, that’s not my story to tell.
“You better not be thinking about how far I’m burying my cock inside of you, as soon as this is over.” Damon croons in my ear, causing goosebumps to pebble all over my skin.
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