Fight for You

| Seventeen |

2011

It was clear to me that Edward had something important to say, something he needed to get off his chest. He was making me nervous and not in a good way. He held onto a brown leather satchel for dear life. It was tucked up under his left arm tightly while he used his right to articulate what he was saying.

"I've been following your work for quite some time now. You are a true talent. You have an extremely rare empathic gift. You're impressive Whitney and I connect with the underlying messages in your work more than I think you realise. It's not until now that I finally see you, really see you."

I've heard those words before. They felt so familiar as if they had previously instilled something in me, something worth remembering. Who had said those words to me? Why am I feeling so nervous? Why did I have so much to drink? Think Whitney, think.

Really see you.

I'm searching my memory catalogue quicker than a google search.

I know now. A once stranger. Someone that had helped me through so much without even realising their influence. A man that knew me without even knowing me.

How did Edward know about that? He can't know, I've never said anything about the blog, or the significance of my most avid supporter. His words had to be a coincidence. I'm more paranoid than I thought. The alcohol is clearly making me irrational.

"What did you just say?"

"I have this for you. I never used to understand what or who I was creating until I met you." he handed me a piece of paper, there were slight black smudges on the back and he held it out to me face down.

My hands were shaky and I was so nervous my heart felt as if it would beat out of my chest. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up from this awkward dream. What is he giving me? I can't quite understand why I feel so conflicted. My mind is running wild and the craziest scenarios are spiralling through every brainwave yet my body feels so at ease and comfortable standing here with Edward, holding this random sheet of paper that, my mind says, holds all the answers. I ran my thumb over the paper, feeling as if every grain held some significance, before turning it over in my hand to reveal a face I had come to know so well.

It was her.

The woman in the picture. Her face stared back at me, for once, finally, she smiled and her mouth matched the twinkling in her eyes. The corners of her eyes crinkled, the laugh lines around her mouth were accentuated. Her teeth appeared from beneath her pink lips. Cheeks were pushed high and plump as they were squeezed, the pressure from her eyes and mouth forcing happiness to radiate from them.

I looked to Edward for an explanation but his face wasn't giving anything away. His eyes searched my face trying to gauge my thoughts but I didn't have any. I couldn't understand what was happening.

"I, I don't understand." my voice had lost all confidence. "Where did you get this picture Edward? Why are you showing me this? What do you mean you have this for me? This isn't funny at all." I was getting worked up and anger was surfacing higher and higher as I spoke. What kind of joke was he playing? "Explain yourself!" I snapped my command at him, demanding an answer.

"I drew this Whitney. I created all of them." He took a step back, moving out of arm's reach as if worried I would hurt him.

As all the pieces began falling into place, my eyes widened in realisation.

I'm English

I work for a family company.

My job has me working for many of the different divisions of the business.