Ecstasy

Chances

Dominic's POV🇯🇲;

I tapped the end of my brush against the palette, feeling my imagination block and leave me with nothing but total space. I felt empty and lack of motivation.

I was seated in my art studio, staring at the blank canvas thoughtfully, wondering why I had to think of what to paint when usually I just let my hand move until I figured what I seemed to be painting. I always enjoyed surprising myself, it was much more pleasing that way.

A knock on my door had me quickly turning my attention to it, seeing the figure of my mother standing there with a tray in hand, a small smile across her face as she made her way towards me.

"You haven't eaten anything honey", she placed the tray on the table next to me, putting all the paint cans away.

"Don't have appetite. How's dad?" I faced her as she pressed her lips together to form a wider smile, a genuine one.

"He's honestly doing way better than I thought, thanks to Ashley of course", she sat next to me, staring at the canvas as well. "She's such a good girl".

That felt strange coming from her considering how she had always wanted to find a problem in her before. Her words right now came too late, even so, I was glad she could see that.

"I guess she is", I placed my brush against the canvas, a dark blue paint staining the white board as I finally felt a little motivated.

"The two of you..." mom began, not knowing how to phrase her question. "Will you two ever get back together?"

"That chance is slim, mother. Day by day I wanna sign those divorce papers, it feels like it would be best for both of us", I responded, my attention still fixated on the painting. I changed the paint on the brush to a lighter shade of blue.

The feeling of guilt was radiating through my mother, she was practically drowning in it and did not bother trying to talk about it. Was I still angry with my mother? Yes, quite much. Was she to blame for everything between Ashley and I? No, not at all. Did I love her less? Certainly not. By the end of the day, she was my mother, did me more good in my life than the bad.

"It's alright", I assured, finally facing her. Her eyes sparkled like glass from the tears she tried to keep in, though she did not succeeded with that and was wiping her eyes in a second. I placed my hand over hers, trying to comfort her.

"Your father, why do I feel like I'm the reason his health is deteriorating?" She sniffed.

"No, it's because he was not having the right medication, remember the doctor said that. It has nothing to do with you. Besides, he's gotten way better than before", I pointed out. "Remind me to fire that cheap ass of a doctor back in Jamaica".

She chuckled at my last statement, finally wiping her last tear away. "These paintings of yours, you make it seem like anyone can paint", she grinned, changing the topic, which I did not mind. It was too much of a beautiful day for us to be dwelling on the past. We had to focus on how to make the future better now.

"With time, you can learn", I turned back to my painting.

"Oh no, I'm too old for that", she waved a hand in the air to dismiss even the thought of painting. I walked to across the room, taking a small canvas from the other pack and bringing it towards my mother, as well as a palette of her own.