Blind Fools

Blind Fools: Chapter 32

Chapter 32

As dawn peeked over the horizon, Ophelia finally got tired of lying there, so she padded into the tiny kitchen to hunt down a coffee maker. Fifteen minutes later, she lounged in a deck chair down by the lake, watching the sun make it's first appearance of the day and pressing Lucky to her heart. For a secluded hideaway to gather her peace of mind, this was kind of the perfect place. She knew the boaters and fishermen would be out in force in a few hours, making the water ripple against the shore and polluting the quiet morning with loud motors and blaring music, but for now, she breathed...and the silence felt good – not peaceful, just good.

The squish of wet grass alerted her to a visitor. Ophelia glanced over her shoulder, and there stood Ian, still dressed in his tuxedo, guided by Bruno down the grassy slope to where she sat. “I'm burning it,” he said, first thing. “You were right. I was wrong.”

Ophelia turned around in her chair and gazed sadly at the water while her fingers tightened around her coffee mug. She knew he'd find her. There really wasn't any doubt in her mind. For a person who couldn't see, he continued to seek her out with amazing accuracy. But Ophelia wasn't ready to run into his arms. He could say all the right words, but in the end, the damage was still done. Two hundred pairs of eyes saw her naked body.

She heard Ian speak to Bruno, telling the driver to wait by the limousine, and Ophelia wondered that if she walked up to the house without speaking to him, would he follow her? And if he did, he might get himself lost doing it, and she couldn't do that to him, no matter how much she despised his presence right that moment.

“Ophelia...”

“Go away, Ian,” she said, setting her mug down on the deck next to her and tucking Lucky under her shirt. “I came here to get away from you. How did you find me anyway?”

“Your cell phone,” he said, sitting down in the wet grass where he was. “Noah traced it for me.”

“That's it,” Ophelia muttered. “He's doing his own laundry from now on.”

“Can we talk about this?”

“I tried to talk about it last night,” she said. “But you didn't want to hear my side. 'It's art.' Well, I've been thinking about that. I told you I never gave you permission to carve me naked. And your contract may say one thing, but never once did I get naked during our contracted time. I could sue you.”

He sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you can...and I wouldn't blame you. I'm sorry, Ophelia. I really didn't mean to hurt you this way...I thought I was proving to you how much I loved you...”

“Oh, Ian,” she said, hating how her heart kowtowed to him when she really just wanted to stay mad at him for a little bit longer. “You never had to prove it to me. It's been obvious for a while. I know you loved me.”

“Love you,” he corrected. “I love you, and that won't ever change.”

“But you betrayed me, and I can't ever forgive that,” she said, looking off across the water again. Her arms hugged her middle and she felt empty inside, with him so close and not holding her and her half-wishing he would hold her and make the pain go away, and yet still wanting him to leave because the pain of having him so close hurt so much.