As she continues talking, I sweep my eyes around the room, taking in the open windows, canvas, and paintbrushes. Thecountertops around the walls of the room are full of paint and splatters. The walls boast artwork, one particularly catching my attention.
I break away from Ashton and the woman, and as I get closer to the bright orange painting that snagged my gaze, I realize it's Noah. In orange shorts and a bright orange cape with NAP written on it. My knees buckle beneath me as I take in the intricate tattoo on his arm, and finally, in the corner, my initials: ELJ.
Not allowing myself to think through my actions, I grab the painting off the wall and hold it behind my back as I turn toward Ashton and the woman, who is still in conversation. Keeping my front side to her, I stand beside Ashton and interrupt. “I’m not feeling well, Ashton. Can we go back to the bungalow?”
He narrows his eyes in confusion as he studies me, and I try to keep my face as innocent as possible. Thankfully, he decides to play along with me versus questioning me. We say our goodbyes to the woman and thank her for her time, then I spin on my heel, moving the canvas and pressing it against my stomach.
“Is that one of my—” the woman begins, but I break into a sprint.
Ashton catches up easily as I run through the crowd, clutching my painting. “Why are we—what do you have there?”
I keep running just in case she sent anyone after me. “My painting. Of Noah. I found it!”
“And you stole it?”
“Just keep running!”
After a few minutes of running and consistently looking back to make sure we aren’t being followed, we slow to a walk, catching our breaths.
“Can I see it?” Ashton asks. I hand him the painting.
“Don’t judge my skills too hard.”
He snorts, and I watch him as he examines the photo, his eyes misting over.
“Is it that good?” I smirk, repeating what he told me after I took a bite of the mango fish taco yesterday evening and had a flash of memory return.
“Har har.” He comes to a stop right in front of our bungalow. “Actually, the painting isn’t bad at all. You did a good job of capturing my brother’s arrogance.”
I chuckle, taking the canvas back. “If I had any smidgen of doubt that my book was anything less than memories, it’s banished. This painting… It’s real. Down to making him the superhero of naps.”
“I don’t think he’s here, Esme. I think we would have found him by now. Unless he’s on the top of a mountain somewhere.”
Grimacing, I nod in agreement. “Yeah, me either. I just have this intrinsic feeling he’s not here.”
“Is there anywhere else?”
I search my brain for what I remember from my novel, for what I remember from snooping in his journals. But I come up blank. “I don’t know, Ashton. I’m a little too overwhelmed right now, I think.”
“Do you want to stay here for the remaining few days we booked, or do you want to cut out early?”
As much as I’m loving this place, I long for home. I want to hug Sam. I want to talk to my parents face to face. I want to start making everything okay again. I want to find Noah and hear from him exactly what happened to us a year ago. I still don’t understand why God has done this, but I’m not feeling so out of sorts about it anymore. The more I pray, the more I feel that God is telling me to go home.Keep trusting me. Take the path home.
“Let’s go home. But for now,” I trail off, keeping my eyes glued to the painting instead of looking over the edge of the boardwalk and into the ocean. “It’s time for payback.” I throw myself intoAshton, watching him flail over the edge and into the water with a tremendous splash as he yells my name.
Atta girl,the masculine voice in my head praises.
Where are you?I ask it back.
Chapter Thirteen
I Can See ~ mid-July
Idespise confrontation.
But I love the smell of homemade lasagna, my favorite dish. It’s the first thing to hit my senses as I walk through my parents’ door and into the house. I arrived home from Bora Bora late last night, and ever since I woke up this morning, I’ve been preparing myself for this talk.
You can do this, Esme,I mentally motivate myself.Youusedto despise confrontation. This new you, however, can handle it.
