Page 47 of Blank Canvas

Tonight started out as one the best nights in a long time. Correction, tonight wasthebest night of my life—the second being Shelly in my house, in my space. Leave it up to me to ruin it. To ruin her. To ruin us.

I fucking hate myself. But dammit, I will do whatever it takes to fix myself and make things right between us. Because Shelly… Ineedher.

FIFTEEN

SHELLY

Haveyou ever felt like your life has been one major clusterfuck of an amusement park ride? The more time passes, the more I feel this all too deeply. And it just fucking hurts. A bone-deep ache that won’t go away.

Night after night, I stare at the romance books on my shelves. Scan their worn spines and tattered covers. Books I have read over and over. Others waiting for me to pick them up. And I just can’t do it. I refuse to let myself get swept up in some happy fairy tale where everyone ends up with their happily ever after. Meanwhile, I’m over here plucking the occasional gray hair, developing wrinkles at the corners of my eyes, and contemplating if I should buy one cat or ten.

Not like I don’t want to experience those “all the feels” moments in my own life. For my heart to rip apart the cage holding it captive. For my lungs to burn when I forget to breathe. For my skin to heat and dampen with just his eyes on me, his body near mine. To feel each and every one of those don’t-ever-let-me-go moments.

God, do I want them.Reallywant them. I thought I had them—some of them—for a blip of time. A very small blip. But I was wrong.

And now… I am exhausted. Utterly spent. Out of gusto.

So tired of faking happy twenty-four seven. Tired of contributing one hundred percent to everything and getting shit on constantly. Tired of being paired with the other single friend in our circle, Erin, because we don’t have someone on our arm.

During get-togethers—like Autumn’s baby shower today—they seat Erin and me together. Why? Because we have singledom in common. Because we haven’t found someone to sweep us off our feet. Because we are lepers when it comes to love. At least, that is what it feels like.

Gah! I want to fist my hair, scream at the top of my lungs, and rip the strands from my scalp. I want it to hurt more than the unyielding pain beneath my breastbone. Physical pain, I can handle. Gut-wrenching emotional pain…

Autumn unwraps and opens a box wrapped in black-and-white baby farm animals. Since she and Jonas don’t know the sex of the baby yet, everything has been neutral. Light and soft tones. Khaki, gray, cream. No pink or blue, yellow or green. The gifts, the cake, the decor. All of it is just… neutral. Plain. Simple.

My life is plain. Neutral. But not simple.

I wish it were simple. That I didn’t spend most of my time each day trying to fix what I broke. To mend fences with Devlyn. Unfortunately, some things can’t be fixed. Not when only one person does the work and two are required.

God, I miss him.

I took our friendship for granted. Got swept up in the moment. In his earthy, artsy scent. The way his smile only popped up on occasion and not for just anyone. I only ever saw him smile at me and Elizabeth. And the smile he gave me was not the same he gave her. And I miss the contrast between his dark, floppy hair and pale-green eyes.

His eyes still linger. When I close mine, I see them with such clarity. Staring back at me. Haunting me. Crushing me. Which is why sleep has been shit recently. Distracting yourself while you dream is a bit difficult.

Why did I have to mess things up? Why did I kiss him?

No, I am not the only one to blame for all of this. I felt it. The way he gravitated toward me any chance he got. The subtle, unspoken hints of something more thanfriendship.Always wanting more time together. That night and morning at his house…

“Shh, shh, shh,” Cora shushes as baby Clara starts fussing. “Someone’s hungry.” After a few wiggly moves, Clara latches onto Cora’s breast and suckles.

Everyone in the room watches in awe. Everyone but me.

I love my best friend and niece fiercely. Would do anything for either of them. But watching them share this intimate bonding moment makes the backs of my eyes sting. Forms a lump in my throat. Makes the ache in my chest more pronounced.

Rising from the couch, I wander out of the room and mumble, “Be right back.”

I step into the bathroom, shut the door and lock it, then slide down the back until my butt hits the cold tile. Silently, I weep into my sweater sleeves. Cry long enough to get it out, but short enough to not let my face puff up. Then I get up, take a deep breath, use the toilet, and rinse my face with cool water.

Minutes mimic days as I stare at my reflection. As I question my life, my past, my way of thinking. Question what the hell is wrong with me. Question why two weeks and hundreds of text messages and phone calls from me to Devlyn go unanswered.

Why? What have I done to warrant this level of extreme solitude? What karmic rule did I break to receive this overflowing spoonful of loneliness?

I love people. Family, friends, strangers. I do right by others. Help out whenever possible. Give back to those less fortunate in the community. Always contribute if possible. I care for others. Am loyal without question.

But it never seems enough, and I don’t know why.

Someone, please tell me why.

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