Page 84 of If My Wishes Came True
“This isn’t for me,” she says, handing me the glass. “It’s for you. Tati Marie’s special remedy. I usually take it for a cold, but Vanessa says it works for cramps as well.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” I say, fighting tears as I remember the similar way her niece took care of me. “Thank you.”
I take a sip, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey as it goes down. Within seconds, I feel calmer. “It’s working already,” I tellMarie, who smiles.
When I take her into my art studio, she takes her time studying each one of my paintings. Her eyes are smiling, but she’s quiet. She walks back and forth, looking and nodding. Finally, she stops in front of Hunter’s portrait.
“Was he your boyfriend?”
“A long time ago, yes,” I say before taking another sip of my drink. A month ago, the question would have sent me into a tailspin. I’m so grateful I can think about Hunter now, without feeling guilty.
Marie steps back and eyes the portrait again, tilting her head from side to side, and observing it from different angles. After about a minute of this, she turns to me. “Your work is mesmerizing, dear. You could pick any one of these paintings for the show and stun the crowd.”
I grin, imagining art lovers admiring my work, as I’ve admired the work of so many others. It would be a dream come true.
“This piece,” she says, going back to Hunter’s, “evokes a stronger emotion for me than the rest. I see love here, Jenna.”
I nod. “There was love.”
“But not passion,” Marie says.
I shake my head. “No, not back then. I didn’t know what passion felt like until recently.” I’m not sure why I say the words out loud. Maybe it’s the whiskey.
“So why not paint him? The man who taught you what passion is,” she asks. “Imagine how powerful it would be.”
I drain my glass and put it down. “The thing is, Marie…I did paint him. But more than that, I fell in love with him. And for the briefest moment, I had everything I’ve ever wished for. And then…I got the rug pulled out from under me again.”
I start bawling, and Marie takes me in her arms.
“So you’re not sick,” she says, rubbing my back. “It’s heartache you’re suffering from. When did you break up?”
“We didn’t.” I step back and look into Marie’s eyes, which may as well be Vanessa’s, they’re so similar. A pang of guilt cuts through me. “It’s more complicated than that. He has this history of settling in life, and I’m worried he’s settling for me.”
Her forehead crinkles as she listens.
“And not only that,” I go on. “If we stay together, our relationship might hurt someone else. A friend I care deeply about. Because I just found out the man I’m in love with is her ex.”
Marie only nods. She doesn’t suspect I’m talking about her niece—but if I don’t stop now, she will.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing. She knows Vanessa better than I do. What if she can say something to put me at ease? Confirm that Vanessa only ever loved Charlie as a friend, like he said? I’d feel a lot more comfortable telling her the truth if that were the case.
“And your friend…she still loves him?” Marie asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “The thing is…” I look down at my feet, and my words are nearly a whisper. “She left him at the altar.”
My art teacher gasps. “Jenna? What are you saying?”
Her reaction stuns me. She’s usually so cool and calm. I open my mouth to answer her, but all I can do is cry.
Now she knows. I see it in her eyes. There’s nothing left to hide, so I cross the room and uncover my boyfriend’s portrait.
I take a deep breath and wipe my cheeks. “He introducedhimself to me by his first name,” I begin.
Marie’s eyes are fixed on the painting, not on me, but I continue.
“And when I told Vanessa I was dating a guy named Charlie, she didn’t suspect a thing. I mean, it is a common name. And I had no idea he used to go by Nico.”
Marie doesn’t respond, but only studies the face of the man her niece almost married.
