Chapter 49

"It's enough."

"It's not. You're not going home before the plate is empty."

It was no use denying him, and she was overwhelmingly hungry anyway, she managed to finish the meal, resisting the urge to demolish the crumble of the sandwich. She placed the empty plate on the table, took the half empty glass and drank a little. She glanced nervously when he got up and approached her.

"Give me your hand." he said

"Just in case you have yet to recover, I don't want you to fall on the floor."

She took his hand and let him help her to get up, feeling her cheeks warm. Why did she react like a silly fool? He just wanted to help her.

"I'm all right now." she looked down to hide her blushing face.

"Are you sure? Walk slowly."

He released her carefully as they walked to the canvas, but he stayed close beside her, ready to steady her if she collapsed at any moment. She never imagined a man like him could show a gentle protectiveness like this, meanwhile he had been very proper and polite, he didn't touch her more than necessary.

They reached the canvas and she caught her breath at the very first sight of the painting. She had seen it when the image was half finished but she never imagined the final result to be so amazing. She wondered if others would recognize it was her in the painting. Oh yes, it was her, definitely, for the physical details were extremely accurate, from the perfect shade of green he used to color her eyes, until the intricate shapes of her fingernails. She couldn't understand how he could depict her very precisely yet made her very different indeed. She looked divinely beautiful here.

"This is too beautiful, I don't believe I really look like this."

"Then you're blind to see your own allure."

It wasn't the grandest compliment she ever heard from a man, but she felt like

it meant a thousand times much more. It sounded great when he was the one who said that. She wondered if he ever said it to a woman before. He was not a sweet talker and he didn't talk much, but a little words from him could thrill her and move her like nothing could ever before.

If it was how he looked at her, she didn't need to worry about the sluttish wanton Amanda Chapman. In this painting, she was a hundred times more amazing than Amanda.

But she had yet to see how he painted Amanda.

Something distracted her from the relentless thoughts about Amanda.

"Your hand, has it recovered completely?"

She just noticed his hand was no longer wrapped in bandages.

He brought his hand under inspection.

"Your stinky mud is magic. My hand healed so incredibly fast." He let her see the result of the medication. The wounded flesh had recovered thoroughly, leaving a scar across his palm.

"I should have brought you the ointment earlier. The madam said if it is applied immediately, the wound will leave no scar."

He studied the scar on his palm.

"I don't mind this." he said. This scar would always be a reminder of her.

They stared at each other again and she looked away first. She looked around awkwardly, uncertain what to do. Now that everything had done, it was time to put it to an end. He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

"What is this?" her eyes widened at the sight of the envelope and she stared at him with questioning glance.

"You gave your time and effort to be here and I want you to know I don't take it for granted."

She recognized what was inside the envelope. Again the suspicion crept in her mind. Was he trying to entice her with this?

"I can't accept it."

"It's not a handout, it's just a token of appreciation."

"That's very thoughtful of you, but I don't do it for money." she said profoundly.

"I owe you my life, I can never pay you back for that. I'm grateful I can do something for you, and it's a little thing compared with what you had done for me."

"Do one more thing for me. I want you to accept this."

She shook her head.

"I know you saved my life without expecting anything in return. I want to do the same to you."

He chuckled, and for a moment his smile got her dumbfounded.

"Why do you think you're here now? I asked you to return my favor."

"I know you didn't intend to do it in the first place."

He expelled a quiet sigh and put the envelope back in his pocket.

"Sure."

Then he looked away as if he didn't want to meet her gaze when he said

"You can get prepared now, my coach is waiting."

"For what?"

"Taking you home."

"Oh, that's very kind of you, but ..."

"Please accept my offer this time, or I'll be troubled all day thinking about you walking home all by yourself."

He would be troubled all day? Thinking about her? But it was only a mild concern because of her condition, nothing more.

"All right."

"Good."

He left her to change clothes. As she placed the outfit in its box for one final time, she couldn't help a slight sadness creeping into her heart. She knew this was the last day but she didn't really think about it until now. She was too consumed with suspicion and thoughts about Amanda Chapman. Now that their time had come to an end, the knowledge just hit her. From now on, they would never see each other anymore. They lived in different world. Little chance their paths would ever cross again in the future. Probably this was the last time she saw him.

There was a soft knock on the door and she heard him calling.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

The door opened and he appeared in the doorway. She walked toward the door, feeling her heart heavy for she knew she would walk past that door for the last time. She looked up at his face when she got near.

He looked back at her and her eyes captivated him with a deeply soulful spark. She seemed to be staring through his eyes into his soul. Suddenly he felt like his heart was weighted down with sorrow. As if his feelings found an echo in hers, she blinked and he could see her eyes tinged with a hint of melancholy. She looked away and moved past him toward the door.

He resisted a wistful ache inside his chest

as she walked out of that door for the last time. The carriage was waiting right before the door, and the servant moved to open the carriage door for her.

When the carriage door opened, she was so overwhelmed with emotion she could barely breathe. Once she stepped in, she would leave it all behind and never saw him again for the rest of her life. The servant waiting to help her in, but she stopped and turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder for the last time, and said

"Goodbye."

Ashton watched her turn to him for one last look and she said goodbye, and then she smiled, tender enough to break his heart.

He turned away and walked into the studio, couldn't bring himself to reply as he felt his resistance crumbled and he was afraid his voice would crack as well. He couldn't bear to see the carriage took her away and disappeared in the end of the street. He walked across the room absentmindedly, and found himself bracing his hands on the edge of the table some time later. He stared blankly at the wood-textured surface as he tried to get himself together.

He looked around, the room was still perfectly the same but he knew he would never look at the room quite the same way again. Like this room was missing something, and though the other things remained, it felt empty. The sun filled the room with its bright natural light, but it felt stark and bereft.

Or it was not the room, it was his heart.

This was the most absurd feeling he had ever experienced in his life, at the same time, it was the most real emotion he had ever felt in years.

Ava turned in her seat to look at the studio until it disappeared from her sight. That stony cottage would always be a bittersweet memories for her. Just a few days ago she couldn't wait for this day, to be free to leave and never looked back, but now that the day had come, all she ever wanted was to stay and never go away.

Tears threatened to blur her sight and she rubbed her eyes quickly. Silly of her. What did she cry about? She was just... she was just... a little bit too emotional about this. All right, perhaps she had grown a tender feeling for him, especially after he turned to be gentle to her in the last days.

They had developed a strange relationship. They were not friends, but they had shared something more intense and personal than acquaintances. But it wouldn't change anything between them. Certainly they were not a proper acquaintance to each other, let alone friends. Perhaps they were like two strangers who coincidentally met at a train. They talked to each other, they shared their feelings, they enjoyed each other's company along the way, but at the end of the journey, they parted ways and never met each other again.