Page 12 of Plus-Size Pregnant Mate

I looked back at the piece in front of me, my eyes trailing over the woman's hair and over the dress I drew her in. It was simple, nothing extravagant like I'd done before.

"Wow," Owen's voice came out soft, and I turned my head, finding him standing a few feet away. My eyes widened as I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Owen always had a muscular figure, and I shouldn't be surprised he only looked ten times better than I last saw him. I couldn't help the way my eyes trailed over his abs and up his pecs.

Owen's eyes were on my canvas, so he didn't notice as he walked closer. I could smell his cologne and turned away.

"This is nice. You've gotten a lot better than before."

"Are you saying I wasn't good before?" I grumbled, grabbing my charcoal and tossing it into the bin. I wiped my hands on my pants, shutting the charcoal away.

"No, I'm saying you've improved. I always knew you were talented, Ashley."

I frowned, a little mad at myself. As much as I wanted to hate him, Owen was why I had gotten as far as I had. He encouraged me for years and stood by my side when things went wrong. It was the only thing I had to keep going when we broke up.

"Thank you," I said, grabbing the canvas and moving it towards the wall so it would be out of the way.

I turned and found he was looking at all the artwork, his eyes interested. He looked confused as he turned to me. "Why haven't you tried selling anything?"

I shrugged. "I have, but no one has ever been that interested. I'm a nobody, so it isn't like my art has value."

He scowled. "Your art has value, Ashley."

"Not as much as a famous artist would," I said with a shrug. I moved, grabbing my supplies and tossing them into the bag.

"Why didn't you go study abroad? Didn't you accept that offer? Last we spoke, you were going to accept it."

My body tensed up. I thought back to that day when I was going back to college. I hadn't slept and had a pounding headache. I had dark circles under my eyes and could hardly get myself dressed, so I wore a baggy sweater and sweatpants.

I walked into my teacher's classroom and felt the urge to vomit, knowing I had to tell him I was taking back the offer. I wasn't mentally there. I wasn't at my best, and there was no reason for me to go when I knew I wouldn't be at my best.

I remained silent for a moment, grabbing my sketchbook and shutting it. Tears formed at the thought of what could have been. I would have loved to go, but the chance never came up again.

"I didn't go," I finally said, making sure everything was moved so the space was usable again.

"Why not? You said you were going to."

I sighed and turned to look at him. He just looked at me, and after a moment, I watched as the realization hit him.

I tilted my head. "We broke up. You really think I was going to study abroad after that?"

"That doesn't mean you couldn't have…"

"No," I said, cutting him off. "I couldn't because I wasn't in the right head space to do that. I.." I paused. "I couldn't study abroad when I knew that my work wasn't going to be good. I could hardly take care of myself, let alone put any real attention into my art for months."

His face fell. "I'm sorry, Ashley…”

I wanted to blame him and say it was his fault, but the words didn't come out.

Because I could have gone…I should have gone, but pulling myself out of the darkness I sat in was just too hard. I needed to grieve the loss of what we had and be there for my mother. She didn’t like to admit it, but I was the one by her side, even when she was behaving like a shitty person. I was there for all her doctor's appointments with my father, I was there when she had her infusions and I was there when she threw up, begging for everything to end.

"Ashley.. I'm sorry."

I turned away. "It's fine. It's in the past, and there is nothing to be done about it."

I moved around the couch, grabbing a few other pieces. The space was fine, but I felt that if I didn't do something, I would start crying.

"Ashley, you know that isn't true. I hurt you, and you can say you moved past it, but you haven't. If you had, you wouldn't still be so angry."

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