The escort agency had him in a panic. Did she really need to seek out male companionship? The question was a stupid one. He knew their friendship would never go beyond the bounds they’d set. He loved her as a friend, but he didn’t find women attractive in that way. The man he’d seen while they’d been shopping together with Noelle, who had been checking her out only to recoil had been a shock to Brad. No other person had responded like him when they’d seen her face.
His heart ached for her. Closing down the laptop, he made his way into his own room. Lying on his bed he sat and thought about her situation. How would he feel knowing there wouldn’t be many people who would love him with scars?
Putting himself in Noelle’s shoes had opened his eyes up to the daily life she led. She worked inside a studio they had decorated together. Clients came to the apartment to buy her paintings, and he sorted through the transactions. At twenty years old, Noelle was one of the most talented artists he’d ever met. Her drawings bought to life so much emotion, that simply staring at a drawing made him believe he was looking into her soul. She refused so much in her short life. There were people out there who would love to get to know her, but she cut them off. She wouldn’t go out and live her life. Brad didn’t know how to get her to see past her scars and embrace the life she could lead.
Rolling over he glanced at the only picture he had of her. They stood together, their first Christmas inside the apartment. She’d not long turned eighteen, while he’d been approaching his twenty-first birthday. Her hair was pulled back, the scars a light red across her cheek. Later, after the picture was taken, he’d learnt how she’d gotten the scars, which was why she refused to drive.
Even as she smiled in the picture there remained in her face something reserved as if she was frightened to let go.
The woman who’d helped him to get his life back was screaming for someone to love her. Only she wanted to find it herself.
Closing his eyes, he allowed sleep to claim him. In time he’d find a solution to their problem.
Chapter Three
Noelle woke early the following morning. The inspiration for a new piece of work hit her. She put on her painting clothes, put the coffee machine on, and went to her studio. The only time she went in her studio was when she wanted to paint. Going into the room when she felt nothing achieved nothing with her day.
She placed a new canvas on the easel and prepared her brushes and paints before she began to paint. Then she let her inspiration take her on her roller coaster ride. The reds and oranges mixed together in a fiery scene of passion and rage, her innermost sensations as she thought of the pain and hurt of her current situation. She knew while painting the picture, she wouldn’t sell it. These paintings were for her to keep or to destroy.
Not long after the car accident which left her with the scars, she’d begun to paint. Her therapist at the time had said it would be a way to see inside to her thoughts and feelings, to see the true depth of her character. The moment she began to paint, the therapy visits were out the window. She refused to sit and talk to someone who didn’t get her.
This was the one room that Brad didn’t enter. He would knock on the door and wait for her to allow him into the room. She heard him moving around outside. Checking her watch, she saw it was past seven. He would be getting ready for work. The energy she had felt at the beginning zapped out of her. Staring at the canvas filled with colour, she nodded her head at her progress before leaving the room.
Brad sat at the kitchen counter eating out of a bowl.
“You don’t want pancakes today?” she asked. Part of their agreement had been she would do all of the cooking.
“Not today. I’ve got stuff to do. What do you have planned?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing much. I think I’ll spend most of my day painting.”
He nodded his head. Smiling at him, she sipped the coffee she poured for herself.
“Will you be home on time tonight?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping to see Ben before I came home.”
Ben was the guy he’d hurt during the years he was using narcotics.
“Is he talking to you yet?” she asked.
“We’ve gotten past the slamming door in face stage. I was a wanker to him, but the problem is I can’t remember everything I did when I was in one of those states. I’m scared in case I did something I don’t want to know about.”
The conversation had taken a dark turn, and she saw the pain he was in.
“He’ll come round. You’ve just got to show him the guy you were has nothing to do with who you are now.”