True Art

Chapter Twenty-two

MATTHEW'S POV

The drive to Cloch Ban was odd. We sat listening to the radio, talking casually, filling each other in on what we'd missed over the days I'd been in the hospital. It was all very polite and formal, and fused with nerves.

Remi’s sister-in-law had been messaging me, checking in on what was going on. I'd been grateful for the kind messages and now it seemed surreal to be heading there for the next six weeks.

Remi and I hadn't discussed what would happen once the six weeks were up, and I was hopefully back on my feet. But I didn't want to think that far ahead. I was moving in with a man I'd barely known for two weeks. That was enough to try to get my head around.

We'd made a quick stop at my friends’ place and collected my pathetic worldly possessions: a duffle bag of clothes, a large clear plastic storage box of paints and supplies, and two carboard boxes of other stuff that had managed to stay with me along all my couch-hopping.

It would be weird having my own room again. Or, wait… maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I'd be staying in Remi's room, but I still couldn't climb the stairs so that was unlikely.

He helped me out of the Jeep, handing me my crutches that the hospital had given me. Before we made it to the front door of the cottage, Siobhan flung it open and came running out. She hugged me tight, and I struggled to stay upright.

"I can't believe you're here! I'm so happy! Come on, let's get you inside and settled. Remington, you can grab his bags." She linked her arm through mine and helped me into the cottage.

The house was warm and cosy, the smell of food wafting from the kitchen.

"We thought you might be hungry. Christopher is cooking up a storm."

We ate and chatted, and then after, they led me into what was Remi's study. The desk was gone, and in its place was a bed and small table.

"I figured you might have trouble navigating the stairs," he explained. He looked tired, his face ashen, and I wondered whether he was regretting his offer to care for me.

I shrugged. "I'll sleep anywhere. I'm used to a sofa. Wherever suits."

"Right, we're off. We need to get back to the kids and let the babysitter home. If you need anything, just call." Christopher winked at me and then patted Remi's shoulder. "Look after him. Don't let him climb any chairs or ladders."

"I'm not a kid," I called after the married couple, laughter echoing in the hall as they headed out into the dark.

Remi and I were finally alone, and I wanted to say so much. To tell him how grateful I was and to ask him to stay with me, to climb into bed and hold me.

"Do you need some help getting undressed?" he asked, avoiding my gaze.

"No, I'll manage."

"I have a few things to finish up, so I'll let you get ready, and then I'll say goodnight before I head up."

It took me a long time to get changed and into my pyjamas. Hobbling to the downstairs bathroom had been a major expedition. It was forty minutes before I climbed into the bed, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was gone.

* * *

It was four a.m. when I gave up. I had woken up at two a.m. and tried everything to drift off again. But after two hours of staring at the clock on my phone, I'd given up trying. I shoved the duvet off and eased my legs over the side of the bed. It was no use. I needed to unwind, to release the stress. I needed to paint.

The plastic tub was sitting in the corner of the study and I hobbled over, clicking the lid off and dragging it close. There were some small canvases shoved in at the side, and I pulled one out and ran my fingers across the woven surface.

I hadn't painted since that very first day that I'd met Remi to go shopping for art and antiques. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was less than two weeks.

I zeroed in on the rollercoaster we'd been on. It still hadn't sunk in that I'd met a man and fallen in love in such a short space of time. What was I doing here? I felt... guilty. Yeah, that was the right word. I felt guilty for rushing into this when neither of us knew whether it might work out. I didn't want to hurt Remi but I was too selfish to say no to him. It was an impossible situation, to be afraid of losing someone when your entire being craved them more than air.

Because I can't breathe without him.

I squeezed the coloured blobs onto my palette and loaded the brush, slapping the paint on with more force than I ever used.

I needed to get these feelings out. I closed my eyes for a second, wondering what I was going to create, and letting the paintbrush move unguided. A vision appeared in my mind, long grass and wildflowers and ocean. I felt it, the painting I needed to paint.

Smiling, I set to work. If there was one thing that was going to help me, it was this.