She looked incredulous. "Cheating on her?" Her mouth gaped open. "You're fucking cheating on ME! Did you fuck her?"
My jaw tensed. "Stop, Madison."
"Stop? You asshole! What should I stop? Should I stop wanting you? Should I stop fighting to keep you? Would you have me just slink out of your life so it's more convenient for you to be with her?" She shook her head, putting her hands on her hips.
"I meant stop making this worse than it already is! Don't you think I know what a fucked situation this is? Don't you think I know what an asshole I am? What am I supposed to do here? For the love of the fucking gods! God! Fuck!" I turned and walked back around the counter, putting my palms on its surface and leaning forward, hanging my head.
"You're supposed to stay with me. You're supposed to see that she's your past and I'm your future. You're supposed to realize that all the two of you are going to do is drag each other back there, back to hell. Is that what you want? Someone who you look at each day and remember only tragedy and trauma? Whose very face you can't even paint because you can't bear to look at it?"
I raised my head and studied her face. She was beautiful, there was no doubt there, but her face didn't make my heart clench with fierce love. Only one face did that. Only one face ever had, since the time I was ten years old. Only one face ever would.
"I do paint her face, Madison. I just don't share it."
Madison's expression fell and another stab of guilt hit me. She took a deep breath. "Still, all she'll do is remind you of the worst day of your life."
"That's not how it would be, Mad." But deep inside, her words affected me. Is that how it would be? If not for me, for her? Did she deserve to move on? Explore her own life without me, and without the grief she'd been carrying? She had shared a little of how her life had been, but it sounded like she had little purpose, little direction. Was she able to move forward? Did she deserve a chance to find out?
Madison let out a sound of frustration. "You don't think that now, but it is exactly how it would be." She frowned. "At least take some time. You don't have to feel a duty to be with her. You don't owe her anything, Calder. You can still be friends, but come home with me. Please. Take some time."
I stared at her, not saying anything, not knowing what to say.
She looked down. "I'm sorry," I repeated. I moved forward and took her hands in mine across the counter. I shook my head, trying to come up with the right words. "I know Eden and I, we went through hell together. But . . . it wasn't all that. In fact, it wasn't even mostly that." I shook my head again, and took my hands away, raking them through my hair. "I don't even know if I could explain to someone who wasn't there, what it was like for us."
I had told Madison about Acadia, but not all of it. She knew what I'd gone through, and I appreciated the fact I'd been able to talk about some of it with someone other than Xander. I trusted her. But how could I tell her what I'd experienced with Eden? It wouldn't be right, and it wouldn't be kind, and somewhere inside, I wanted to keep it for myself anyway. It was ours – Eden's and mine. It was sacred.
"You don't need to explain it to me. I see your art. Every day, I see your art," she said. "Do you think I don't know how hung up on her you are . . . were, whatever. I just . . . please, take some time to think about this. Take some time to consider things once your emotions have settled. Please, baby." A tear ran down her cheek and I swiped it away with my thumb. She smiled softly at me.
I took a deep breath, confusion swirling through me. I knew she saw my art, or some of it, at least. But did she really see me? Did she see how I ached? How I felt incomplete? Empty? I turned to get two cups out of my cabinet and poured us both coffee and handed one to her.
"I didn't exactly plan any of this," I said. "It's just . . ."
Madison took a deep breath and then was quiet for a minute. "I know," she finally said, looking down at her coffee before bringing her eyes back up to mine. "I'm here to help, okay?"
I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, but I nodded. "Thanks."
Madison sighed and picked up her coffee cup, taking a sip. She looked away from me, back out the windows. "You sold every piece last night," she finally said softly, still not looking at me.
I took a step back. "I sold every piece? What?"
Madison looked back at me and let out a small smile. "Yeah, every damn one. Sold out. You left after the first couple sold, but the rest of them went soon after. And you leaving was actually a brilliant move. You're 'unattainable' now, a 'sensitive artist' who can't stand crowds. Brilliant. It's like I planned it myself." But hurt washed over her face. I knew it hadn't ended in a way she would have planned.