Page 86 of Coerced

Memories of the lies and betrayal. Memories of the family I no longer had.

“It’s a lovely thought, but that’s not going to happen,” Iinsisted. “What I will say is that I want to live in this happiness I feel now. Coming to Steel Ridge has been so good for me. I have these new friends I’ve made since moving here, and best of all, I’ve got you. I can’t be more thankful than I am that you were the first person I met when I got here.”

Paxton’s hand left my neck, moved to my opposite shoulder, and curled me slightly into his body. “You have no idea how happy I am that it was the house next door to mine that you moved into, Aria.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, felt the warmth move through me, and breathed a sigh of relief. Having gotten close to the end of my cone, I held it up and asked, “Do you want the rest?”

“There’s only a bite or two left. You can’t do it?”

Keeping my head on his shoulder, I slid it back a touch and tilted it to angle my gaze in his direction. “There’s no ice cream left in the bottom. I can’t eat it without it.”

Paxton’s body vibrated with his laughter. Then he leaned forward and took the cone out of my hand in just one bite.

We sat there on the bench for a little while longer. And as we did that, I let my newest dream wash over me.

I’d only intended to escape my past and have a fresh start when I came to Steel Ridge. Paxton showed me there was a reason to aim for a brighter future. As long as he was by my side, I was certain I was going to get it.

“This is the best news, Brit. I can’t wait.”

My best friend’s laughter came through the line. “I know. Me, too. But if I want to be sure they don’t rescind that approval for my time off, I better get back to work. I’ll call you later tonight or sometime tomorrow, and we’ll work out the details for my trip.”

Nothing could have wiped the smile from my face. “Sounds great. I’m so excited. I’ll talk to you later.”

Britney had finally secured a few days off from work, so she could come to Steel Ridge for a visit. Though she could have easily driven the two hours and visited for a long weekend much sooner, she wanted to have an extended stay. So, she was going to be coming out to see me in just three more weeks. I was beyond excited to see her.

Britney and I said goodbye and disconnected our call as I stepped out into my garage. It was late Monday afternoon, and I had gotten home from working at the deli just a little while ago. I had worked at both the deli and the pub on Friday, as well as a shift at the pub each night on Saturday and Sunday.

Today was the first day I had my evening free since my full day off with Paxton days ago, and I wanted to take advantage of it. Plus, the gorgeous fall weather made me want to be outside.

So, I set my phone down on one of the shelves in the garage as I tapped on the button to open the door. Sasha had followed me outside, winding her way through my legs and around my ankles as I attempted to unpack more containers.

I’d gotten through one, which had been most of my winter clothing. I’d set it in a pile on top of a shelf to carryinside to the laundry room when I finished in the garage, and Sasha decided that was going to be her spot to supervise the remainder of my unpacking.

I moved to the next container, popped off the lid, and realized I’d made a mistake as a pang of sadness washed over me. I’d opened this container before but had forgotten to label it the last time as one to never open again, because Paxton had arrived in the midst of it.

My paintings were sitting right on top, staring up at me. In an instant, I was tossed right back to that time just over a year ago, when I walked into my dad’s store and learned the truth about what was happening with my paintings.

They were just a means to an end.

Why did those words still hurt so badly?

I knew why. It was the very thing I’d spent some time talking to Paxton about days ago. Parts of our conversation that afternoon had been weighing on my mind heavily since.

I should have immediately covered the container again and moved onto the next.

I didn’t.

Instead, I lifted a painting from the container and stood, recalling the day I’d put these colors on this canvas, and feeling utterly torn. There was a part of me that wished I’d never walked into my dad’s store that day, that I’d remained oblivious to what was really going on. If that had happened, I’d still have my family. I’d still be living my dream.

But there was this other part of me that was glad things had happened the way they did. It was devastating to have lost my family—I wasn’t sure I’d ever get overthat. But I couldn’t dispute how good things were for me now, how much my life had improved. If things hadn’t gone down the way they had, I never would have met Paxton and been the happiest I’d ever been in my whole life.

I set the painting down and picked up another one, my heart bleeding at the sight of it. I’d stared at it for about ten or fifteen seconds before I lost it completely. Walking out into this garage and mistakenly opening this container couldn’t happen again. With tears welling in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks, I began pulling out all the paintings.

I’d moved here for a fresh start; it was time I gave it to myself.

The paintings had to go.

They had to be destroyed, just like my past.