The One That Got Away ✔

Chapter Eight

Within a year of Freddy's birth, I became a professional painter, commissioning my work for as much as hundreds a piece.

It all started when my mum hung one of my works at the prestigious restaurant that she worked at, at the time. Soon all the painting at that restaurant were mine. It didn't take long for the customers to ask about them. All the people whoever ate at that restaurant were richer than should be allowed and owned businesses or knew people who did.

Eventually, my work was being commissioned then hung at restaurants, offices, hospital waiting rooms etc. When I found myself a manager, she got my work into local galleries. By the time I was eighteen, my work was being hung in big cities around America.

When I started earning money, I saved up for a car and an apartment, so that way, I could finally move out of home.

I was meeting artists with big names at galleries and events, it didn't take long for me to be one of them.

One of the first people who would play a big role in my life and career was Doug Faire. I meet him on my first trip to San Francisco for a few days. I was there for a gallery opening and was invited by artists I met back home.

Doug was a fellow artist who had the most haunted expression on his face I had ever seen. I was with him for the whole time I was in San Francisco. He was a good guy, talented as hell.

When we first met, he told me that he "travels the world"

I remember grinning from ear to ear.

"What's that like?" I asked him, holding a glass of wine in my hand.

"It's like breathing a new kind of air" he smiled.

"Well, you are" I laugh, sipping the wine.

Doug had thick salt and pepper hair with a small bald patch forming at the back. His skin was pale compared to mine. He wasn't that much taller then me, standing at around 5'6 if I had to guess.

"True true" he held his glass to his chin. "What about you, Alexandria? Tell me about yourself"

"Only my mum calls me that" I admitted.

"What does everyone else call you then?" Doug cocked a brow.

"Lexi" I revealed.

"Well then, Lexi" he continued, "tell me about yourself"

"Well, I'm from Seattle...My mum was hanging my paintings at her restaurant and that's when I was discovered" I almost mocked the word.

"Your mum owns a restaurant?" His eyes lit up.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No, she started out as a waitress and now she's the manager"

"Oh, I see" Doug nodded.

We spent the whole weekend together. I'm sure he had heaps of friends he could have spent all the art shows with but he wanted to spend time with me. It was as if I reminded him of something or someone from his past.

When I went back home to Seattle, I sat with my mum and Tom, showing them all the pictures I had taken of San Francisco. Then we came across a picture of Doug and me at the gallery opening.

Mum glared at the photograph in shock then slapped her hand over her mouth. She then began to sob, her eyes still glued to the photo of Doug.

"What's wrong? Do you know him or something?" I asked.

I didn't get a response from her as Freddy began to cry.

I later found out that Doug was my father. The man that abandoned my mother and me, when I was three years old.

I remembered the words he spoke to me, the kindness and showed, the stories that we had exchanged. He knew it was me, that was for sure. After all, he knew my name and had my eyes.

I never knew my father before that weekend. Not his name, what he looked like, but now I know. My father's name is Douglas Faire and he was a forty-two-year-old artist who travelled around the world.

My mother never spoke about him when I was growing up, all she said was that my father was a man of many masks, a man who would be there one minute then gone the next. That was something I knew to be true.

I didn't want Freddy to see Kyle the same way I always saw Doug - as a man that abandons his kid. The difference between my father and Freddy's is that my dad didn't want to know me, Kyle one the other hand, never got the chance to know Fred.

I didn't feel that way when I was eighteen. The guilt of keeping Kyle and Freddy apart came years later. After many unexpected in counters with Kyle.

The first one happened not long after I met Doug. Within a few months of my trip to San Francis, I found myself in Beverly Hills on a similar trip.

I should have told Kyle about Freddy then instead of letting this secret go on for so long.

But I didn't.

I should have but didn't.

The repercussions of that decision would last a life time - I just didn't know it yet.