Scarlett reached home late. Her mom calls her every day and asks her how her day goes. There is hardly one week left before they came and there was so much to prepare for, and she was nowhere.
“There was a time when we were cruising on a yacht…. You ever been in a yacht Scarlett? No? I will take you one day when I get out of here… That is if I get out of here at all… As I was saying, when we were on this beauty it started to rain…”
Scarlett laid back on the bed and listened. Tristan went on and on about a trip to Paris, about his car racing friends and the bets he won and lost, and his Swiss bank account too. Most of what he said ended with him promising her to take her there or give something to her. It almost always ended with a promise to her. With each promise, Tristan was climbing higher and higher into the inner forests in her heart. Will these promises help her let the sun in?
Scarlett got up and went to stand beside the painting and Tristan immediately fell silent. All his thoughts wiped clean and there was pin drop silence. She leaned on the wall sideways and stared.
Scarlett did not want Tristan to know that she could hear him and that she was trying to help him. Deep down in her heart, Scarlett wanted Tristan to recognize her when he came out of the frame. Too romantic, too far-fetched, yes. But she did not want to buy his heart with her kindness if one could call it that. She did not want him to come to her because of gratitude. It might leave her heart broken but she could not let him know.
She extended her arm hesitantly to the painting. Ever since that night, she had not dared to near to the painting. She still talked and watched but not from so close. Did she dare to touch him again? Will he remember her touch? Through their everyday conversations, she has built up the image of being interested in a man in his company. Tristan assumes that she has been coming late because she has been going out with him. All Scarlett does is add shades and colors to Tristan’s imaginations and speculations based on her research about Tristan. Only if he knew, that he was being jealous of himself…
The last time Scarlett touched him was hell and heaven together. Watching her fingers move slowly towards him, Tristan braced himself to feel her again.
Yet, Tristan could not feel the touch he so waited for.
The barrier between them was still there. He was afraid that in this lifetime all he would ever get with Scarlett was that one magical night.
All she felt was the rough surface of the canvas and paint. There was no warmth that seared her skin and penetrated her bones. There were no emotions that shook the pillars of her soul. She realized that until Tristan broke free of his curse, she would only have the moment of togetherness of that one magical night.