Page 9 of Her Painter Bear Mate

"I'm sorry. About your mother. And that I never asked,” Dee said sheepishly.

It was unusual to see Dee so bashful, Clarissa thought. She was used to bold and snappy remarks, needling each other about nothing and everything. Not this humble apology about something she couldn’t have known.

Clarissa let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped. Truth is, I’m still raw about my mother. I think this whole party has just been unexpectedly triggering.”

“Want to, umm… Talk about it?”

“No, definitely not. I’m just going to go home.” Clarissa turned on her heels.

“Coffee!” Dee blurted out. “You said you wanted to get coffee sometime. Let’s do it.”

As much as this response would’ve delighted Clarissa earlier, right now it just felt flat. She knew the look on Dee’s face well, the one marred with pity. Dee wasn’t offering because she wanted to, but because her conscience felt like she had to.

“It was nice to see you,” Clarissa said instead, managing half a smile.

She made it around the corner before she broke down in tears. She hadn't expected this party to drag up those old feelings but here they were, almost as sharp and painful as the day it happened.

She tried to force the tears back but they just kept coming.

“Oh, god. Are you okay?” a smoky voice asked.

Clarissa almost choked and angrily wiped her tears away. “Why are you following me?”

“Sorry, I thought you were mad, not sad.”

“So you came to fight?”

“No, I just wanted to apologise again but I can see now that was the wrong choice.”

Clarissa chuckled humourlessly. “No shit.”

“Sorry. I would leave but now I'm worried about you. Is this really because of what I said or is something else going on?” Dee asked, sounding much softer and gentler than usual.

As touching as her concern was, it was also a bit odd. “Okay, you're kind of freaking me out with your politeness and concern. Go back to being snarky," Clarissa said.

"Your hair sucks," Dee quipped but her voice didn't have the usual bite to it.

Despite the tears, Clarissa chuckled. "You suck."

She sat down on the curb and wiped her eyes and face. As horrified as she was that Dee saw her cry, she also felt lighter, like a stone had been lifted from her stomach. It had been too long since she last cried. She always had to keep strong and keep going because that's what everyone needed. What she needed.

Dee took a seat next to her but remained quiet, which Clarissa appreciated. She sat with her thoughts for a bit, her arms around her knees, while she tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings of the day.

Eventually, she spoke. "It's not you. Everything is just going wrong at the moment."

"I know what that feels like," Dee said softly. "Are you worried about your dad?"

"Yeah, he's in really bad shape. I'm barely keeping up with everything. His hospital appointments, the store, my class. I barely have time for myself, let alone paint. I feel like I'm fading." Clarissa wasn't sure why she was admitting all this, especially not to Dee. Then again, it wasn't like she had anyone else to talk to. She'd never been good at making friends and even worse at sharing her problems.

She scoffed, mostly to herself. It was a little pathetic that the only person wanting to listen to her problems was an old childhood rival who she hadn't seen in almost ten years.

Dee let out a hum. "Anything I could do?"

"No, not really, but thanks." Clarissa gathered a deep breath and released it as a sigh. She wiped her cheeks again and straightened her back, ready to put her sadness away again. Over the years, she'd become good at composing herself.

She turned to look at Dee. "Does my hair really suck?"

"God, no," Dee said. She sounded like she really meant it too. "Your hair is fantastic."

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