The Color of Love

Chapter 5

The entire train ride home Lillian was on the edge of breaking down. She tried to think about her art students, tried to think about new projects she wanted to work on, tried to think about her plans for the next week. But, all her thoughts kept bringing her back to one person. James. She knew by the time she made it home he would have gone looking for her and Mr. Landry would have passed him the note she left.

She had convinced herself that leaving this way was better than having to face him and say goodbye. But really, there was no easy option. In just one week, James McMillan had somehow managed to find his way into and had taken up residence in her heart. A feat she thought impossible after her ugly divorce. And even now she realized she had made a terrible mistake, and she hated herself for breaking his heart.

Lillian had made it home by lunch. The taxi dropped her off at her apartment and she lugged her suitcases, easel, and paint kit back up to her apartment, dropping everything to the ground once she made it in her small studio apartment. She barely made it to the bed before she collapsed and gasped out a sob.

She stayed in bed most of Sunday, and barely managed to get herself up and ready for work on Monday. And though her spirits were lifted a bit by her students, she felt as though she were just going through the motions all day. That night she came home and cried again.

**—**—**

James had been home for less than a half hour. He had unpacked his bags and started a load of laundry, and was now standing in his office, slipping the books he had purchased on the trip into their appropriate places on the already full bookshelf. As he slipped the last book into its place, there was a knock at the door.

"It's me!" his sister shouted as she opened the front door and let herself in.

"I'm in the office," James called out.

"I came to see that you had made it home safely and see how you were doing, now that you're back to reality," Jackie said as she approached the office doorway.

"Why do people say that?" he snapped. "I don't understand. Why is vacation considered to not be reality? It's just as real as home, just different. With less work and more leisure, but it's still a part of reality."

It was a show of emotion and anger that his sister wasn't used to from him and she physically backed away as she spoke, "Whoa there, partner—what's got you in such a tizzy?"

James sighed and dropped into his office chair, slouching over. His right fist clenched tightly while his left rubbed at his temple as he sighed deeply. "She didn't say goodbye, Jacks," he said quietly.

"What?" his sister questioned, confused by the jump in conversation, making sure she heard him correctly.

He looked up at his sister, eyes red and wet with tears, and clarified, "Lillian. She left without saying goodbye. Well, not a real goodbye."

"What!?" This time Jackie knew she had heard him correctly, she just wasn't sure she wanted to.

He swallowed hard and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a folded up piece of paper. It was already growing worn, having been pulled out of that place several times on the train ride home. He held out the piece of paper and Jackie crossed the room to take it, then went to the large overstuffed leather chair in the corner of the room and sat down, unfolding the paper.

She read the note quickly and one hand went over her mouth. "Oh, Jimmy," she gasped out.

He turned and stared out the window at his desk. "Last night she started talking nonsense about dreams and reality and today she was gone."

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? She made her choice. I'll have to accept this week for what she says it was. A dream."