Chapter Twelve

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I'm ready when you are

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I'm ready when you are.

The words repeated in my mind. It made me question every decision I had made. Had I made Beth wait? Did I make everyone wait until I was ready? The entire week, my paranoia was getting the best of me. Positive thoughts and positive words weren't helping.

The last week had been busy for me. With the pensioners' class, the workshops and the commissions needing to be done, I had barely any time for Beth or Dorian. Jacob had invited me to come over to 'The Lounge' a couple of times. Each time I had said no. Dorian had sent another bouquet since we had seen each other last. This time they were white roses. When they had first arrived, the buds were closed, but now they had bloomed. The rounded edges were soft. He would text me every so often and I would reply when I could. He would always ask about my day and how everything went. Never once did he mention another date.

"See you next week, Alena!" I turned to see Delilah, one of the older ladies I had been teaching in the workshop, wave good at the doorway of the studio room.

"See you Delilah! Can't wait to see how that watercolour piece turns out." I called out.

As I heard the last few people leave the gallery, I locked up. The sound of the locks in the glass door turned, and the shutters came down. I paced back to the studio and looked at the piece Dorian had wanted. I had begun painting Dorian's father. The base colours had dried. The next step was for me to begin the mid tones.

Opening the cupboard doors, one of the cans of spray-paint tumbled to the ground. Picking up the cold can, I noticed it was 'French violet'. The same purple colour as my now faded ombre hair.

You changed yourself to become a new person... someone who wasn't you.

The chime of my phone filled the air. I looked down at my screen and noticed a message from Dorian.

Dinner tonight? I'll pick you up at 7? X

Shoving the can of spray-paint back into the cupboard, I shut the doors and left the studio to head up to the apartment. I scrolled through my phone and called the number I needed to. After a few dull tones, they finally answered.

"Dorian Bradley's Office, this is Rachel speaking. How can I help?"

"Hi Rachel," I said, unlocking my apartment door. "Please, can you let Mr Dorian Bradley know I won't be able to make it tonight? It's Alena Richards, by the way."

"Of course I can." She replied. "Would you like me to tell him you can meet him another time?"

"No," I uttered. "I'll let him know soon. Thank you."

As she said goodbye, I ended the call and headed straight for the bathroom. No more violet ombre.

*

As I turned the hairdryer off and closed the bathroom mirror door, I looked at my reflection. It had been so long since I had my hair one colour. I had managed to style my jet-black hair into natural waves. I let out a deep breath and couldn't help but smile. Making my way to my room, I heard the sound of knocking against the apartment door. I groaned to myself and tightened the knot on my dressing gown.

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