Page 104 of How to Get Even

‘I get your point, Bella,’ he informed her curtly.

‘Do you? Do you really?’ she asked, looking at him in a way that made him think that he didn’t. ‘Because you picked up a colouring pen without a single thought and helped that little boy see his drawing as something worthy of a gallery. You didn’t even think about it.’

‘That was different.’ And he wouldn’t sayentirelywithout thought.

‘It was different. I know why. But do you?’

‘Yes, I get the very heavy-handed, painfully obvious point you’re trying to make. That I can’t paint because I don’t like the pressure of making it financially viable.’

‘Oh. Actually, I was going to say that you can’t paint because it’s not fun any more, but yeah, your suggestion works too,’ she said, flippant and furious at the same time.

He bit his tongue, unsure whether she was being sarcastic or not.

‘It’s the reason it’s not fun any more. You don’t play with it, the way you used to. You’re afraid of wasting it.’

‘Because I needed to make money, Bella. We weren’t all born with a trust fund?—’

‘That’s not fair,’ she whispered.

‘It’s not fair,’ he agreed, ‘but it’strue. It took five years for me to earn enough to pay off the medical bills from my mother’s illness. It took another year to be able to pay off my father’s mortgage. Those things aren’t nothing, Bella.’

‘They’re incredible achievements, Chase. Admirable and amazing. But what debt are you trying to pay off now?’ Grey eyes, wide like orbs, glowing like stars, levelled him where he stood and knocking all the words out of his mouth.

He fisted his hands, fighting an invisible band holding him in place, tension in every line of his body.

‘Spit it out, Bella. Stop beating around the bush and say what’s on your mind.’

‘I think you’re spinning out of control, because you achieved everything your mother said you would. And it didn’t make you happy. I think you’re stuck because you don’t know what you want next, because you’ve never had to ask yourself that.’

‘And you have?’

‘Yes. Recently, for the first time, yes. Everything I thought I wanted… it was…passive. I didn’t knowwhyI wanted it, I hadn’t had to think about why I wanted it, I just did. A marriage, a home, children. TheHamptons. They were just things I thought I should want, that I should have. Stages of my life I just assumed would happen. And maybe Olly not turning up on the day of the wedding might actually have been the best thing that happened to me,’ Bella said, as if admitting it for the first time, to herself as much as to him.

‘And I think you’re the same, in a way,’ she said with a small shrug. ‘You did all this to make your mother happy, but it wasn’t because you’d thought about wanting it, or questioned why you wanted it.’ Her words were a near-fatal body blow, his heart knowing how true they rang and his soul wanting it to be different. ‘I think she’d desperately want you to be happy, because she loved you. And I… want you to be happy,’ she said, her words losing steam and confidence for the first time since they’d arrived.

There was something in what she said that he’d missed, but he couldn’t quite keep his train of thought, because somehow Bella Carmichael had unlocked the dam that he’d spent years shoving things behind and it was near all that he could do to stay standing.

* * *

Bella gave him a minute to process what she’d said. And if she were being honest, she needed a minute too. She walked over to the table Sascha had prepared for them, fiddling with every single conceivable type of artistic tool, pencils, paintbrushes, glue, paper, scissors, charcoal, erasers, coloured chalks, spray paint even.

She catalogued them in her mind because that was so much easier than facing what she’d nearly blurted at him.

She wanted you to be happy because she loved you. And I…

Fighting the crashing realisation, she focused instead on why she was here. It wasn’t about her. It was about Chase. It was about helping him find what was missing. Because she felt it when she was around him – the hole he tried to hide. It didn’t stop him from being witty, sharp, devastatingly sexy, which was quite annoying when she thought about it. But it was like a scar he was constantly trying to pull a piece of clothing over. And the more it stayed hidden, the more damage it would do.

She reached into her pocket for the blindfold she’d brought, though it was looking increasingly unlikely that he’d allow her to get through the full extent of her plan. She turned to face him, running the silk through her hands.

‘Unless that involves you being naked, I’m not interested,’ he said, glaring at the blindfold.

She fought the smile. At least he hadn’t left yet. ‘Perhaps after we leave here.’

‘I can have a cab here in under thirty seconds.’

‘No onecan get a cab in under thirty seconds in New York.’

‘Watch me,’ he replied, his eyes glowing with determination and just a hint of the humour he always surprised her with.

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