Early morning light flits through the gauzy curtains. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand I'm surprised to see it's 5 am. I never wake up this early anymore. But after staring at the ceiling for a half-hour I decide to get up and make a cup of coffee.

Putting the tea kettle on, I lean on the counter and stare mindlessly as the water bubbles to life. The house is so eerily quiet - the grandfather clock in the hall ticks steadily - a noise one doesn't notice during the day. Looking around and surveying the house, I admire how the light and breezy colors Mémé decorated with are subtly juxtaposed with rich hues in a way that is warm and inviting. I find myself daydreaming often of what things I would change if I were to stay here and make this my home.

Sighing, I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and the metal box on the kitchen counter grabs my attention. The day before yesterday I had turned this house upside down looking for the key, but no luck. No key, no more letters, no clues at all. I grimace at the worn and rusty artifact. A reminder of one more thing in my life I can't control.

I can't even open a damn box! I think with frustration. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard I make my pour-over coffee, and still feeling annoyed, start pacing the living room. The early grey morning descends on the house slowly, as if sensing my mood and wanting to commiserate.

My phone dings and I see a text from Colin. *Morning! Had the best time with you yesterday. Driving to the Loire Valley today. Can I call you later? Around 7 tonight?*

I text back, *Sure. Safe travels! And I had a great time too.*

I'm happy to hear from Colin so soon, but even that doesn't perk me up. Since I clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed, after making my coffee, I head to my makeshift studio to try and paint. But after mixing a few colors on my palette, I stare listlessly at the canvas in front of me. I just don't have it in me today, I think with a sigh. My sister's words float into the forefront of my mind – if you're in a funk, go on a walk, she always says.

Making my way outside, I shrug my wool sweater tighter around me. It's chilly, but the ocean instantly calms me, and I take big gulps of fresh sea air, letting it fill every inch of my lungs. I'm going to miss this, I think wistfully. I take another deep breath, the ocean air moving all around me, seemingly enveloping me in an embrace. I'm going to fucking miss this.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and seeing that it's Anne, I hesitate for a moment. I'm not in the best mood for a conversation – but with the time difference, we've been missing each other's calls.

"Hey Anne," I answer.

"You're awake!"

"Yeah, been awake for a while. Couldn't sleep, unfortunately."

"Sorry to hear that but glad to catch you. Is there a reason you couldn't sleep?"

Since that seems to be a loaded answer at the moment, I go with a vague response, "Maybe my body knows it's going to be on Portland time soon?"

"That's right - you'll be coming home soon which I know has got to be bittersweet. How are you holding up? I know it's a hard month and I know it's got to be hard coming back here to face....Brett." Anne says his name as if she's dry heaving.

"I'm not going to lie, I'm a little anxious about going back home and facing all of that mess. And I've been thinking a lot about what I want – what I really want. And...well it's just that I don't know if I want it anymore - my old life. Even if I could get my position back I don't think I'd take it." I pace back and forth on the sand, my phone to my ear. "Wow, I don't think I've even said that out loud to myself, much less anyone else."

"Girl, you can always be honest with me! And I can't fault you! You've been through a lot and you deserve a fresh start. I can understand where you're at. Whatever you decide to do I'm here for you hon."

"Thanks, Anne, I appreciate you. So how was your date? We haven't talked since."

"Which one?"

"Ha! Of course you've had multiple. I meant the hot guy in the afternoon one."

"Oh yeah! He's delicious but wants a relationship. I'm still seeing him but we're not exclusive, so I still have my fun."

"Anne, you found a delicious man who wants you and you're still dating around?" I ask, surprised.

"Yep, that's the gist of it!"

"Oh lord ok...I don't know why I'm surprised."

She laughs in response. "But enough about my love life, tell me about your local flavors. Jade might have mentioned you went on a date with a certain British actor. I want all the juice details and dirt. And when I say dirt I mean dirt - don't hold back on me!"

I hesitate, thinking about yesterday and exactly how I feel about it. "It was amazing. He wined and dined me. I felt like I was on an episode of the Bachelor. It was on a yacht first of all, and there was champagne, strawberries, and live music – he truly went all out."

"Dammmnnn yes girl get it! And in your case, it would be the Bachelorette! You have more than one contender am I right?"

My breath hitches in my throat. There's no way she knows about Jake.

"Hello? What about that hot gardener man?"

I smile, relieved, forgetting how much has changed since I spoke with Anne last. "We're just friends. I believe he's secretly still in love with a friend I've made here, the one I mentioned before, Juliette."

"Juicy! Ok so I take it you're playing matchmaker, which would be your style."

"Maybe," I admit, "you know me too well."

"So, when do I need to take off time for your wedding? Cause Mr. British actor man sounds too good to be true!"

"I don't know Anne. He is perfect, the date was perfect, the kiss...." I trail off, not sure how to articulate what I'm feeling, especially when I'm not sure myself.

"Why do I hear hesitation in your voice? Is he a bad kisser?"

"Nope, good kisser," I answer.

"Ok, so what gives?"

"Nothing. He's great, better than great actually." I clear my throat and look up at the sky.

Grey.

And cold.

Shivering, I make my way back up to the house.

I imagine Anne's wheels turning on the other as she asks, "So, when do you see him next?"

"I invited him over for a farewell dinner I'm having Saturday. He's going to try and make it, but it's not a sure thing with his schedule."

"Well if you like this guy it's worth it to do the distance thing. Let him chase you all over the globe if necessary. Or you chase him - whichever is your style."

"Yeah..." I trail off. Opening the door, I make my way back inside and curl up on the couch. I sit for a moment not sure if I want to divulge what's been on my mind.

"Why do I have the feeling there's something you're not telling me?" Anne asks suspiciously.

Picking at the throw blanket next to me, I bite my lip and decide to go for it. With a groan, I say, "Ok I'm just going to say it. Before I left for France Jake kissed me."

"What?! Girl! Ok, on one hand, l was not expecting you to say that! But I'm also not the least bit surprised. I can't help but be proud of Jake for finally going for it!"

I roll my eyes in annoyance. How is it that I'm the only one that hasn't seen what everyone else has? "It's just had me in a weird headspace since, and we haven't been talking really. Besides you, he's my best friend and I can't lose him. I've lost too much already as you know. I can't lose one more thing in my life - I just can't." Emotion rises in my throat as I get up and start pacing again.

"Listen hon, there's only one piece of advice I have for you on this..." Anne says with a dramatic pause. "Do you want to see him naked?"

I stop pacing, a blush creeping up my neck. "What?!"

"You heard me."

"Ummm I don't know...Anne, I don't think you understand - "

"It's simple," she cuts me off, "If you want to know if you can move beyond the friend zone with someone, you simply imagine them naked."

"That's your advice?" I plop back down on the sofa completely dumbfounded.

"Yeah, and it's damn good advice! Listen, if you can't imagine him in his birthday suit then there's your answer! And then you need to push him into that friend zone so deep nothing will surface ever again. But, if you're turned on, well there you go, it's worth exploring."

I'm speechless and don't know what to say.

"Well? So, have you?" she urges expectantly.

"Have I what?" I ask, not sure which crazy statement she wants an answer to.

"Oh, c'mon the man kissed you...have you thought of his fine chiseled naked ass body by now or what? I'm guessing it's finely chiseled, I wouldn't know for sure of course..."

"Anne no!" I exclaim.

Actually, yes. Multiple times, but I'm not admitting that out loud.

"Ok well, there you go, there's your answer."

"Yeah..." I bite my lip, my mind suddenly wondering to the person in question.

"Unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"Nope! You're right, your advice is always sound - no naked best friend in this brain." I try and laugh, but it comes out nervously. "Uh, Anne, I don't want to cut our convo short but I'm starving and need to make something to eat. Thanks for calling and checking in. You're the best!"

"Yeah of course. Girl, you know I got you. And the minute you land home I want an in-person catch-up sesh!"

"I'll definitely be filling you in. Fingers crossed things turn out in my favor."

"I bet they do! You know what they say about karma - and Brett has his coming."

We say our goodbyes and hang up. After breakfast, I try once again to lift my somber mood by sequestering myself in my studio. No leaving until I get it all out on the canvas, I tell myself. Sometimes it doesn't work, but more often than not it does.

With a sigh, I set a brand-new canvas on the easel and decide on something simple to get warmed up. My gaze lands on a vase in the front of a window, and deciding that will do just fine, I start my composition.

Mid painting a thought crosses my mind. The vase is one of the many pieces inscribed with A.D. who I'm assuming is Adelaide Duboise. And according to Philippe's father, there might have been a Duboise family that lived in Lannion. I wonder if anyone from the pottery place in Lannion would know if there was an artist with that name.

Setting down my paintbrush, I retrieve the business card I got from the woman at the market.

Le Pigment Bleu.

Well, it's worth a try, I think. If they've never heard of her and have no information then that's that. And besides, I reason, I have to go to Lannion to shop for Saturday's dinner regardless.

As if sensing my small ray of hope, a patch of sunshine peeks through the window.

~*~

After painting all day, I finally reach a point I feel good about stopping at. Stretching my sore back, I decide to run myself a bath. If there's one thing my mother taught me it was how to pamper yourself when needed. I don't have any candles on hand, but I am well stocked in wine.

Mémé had installed some modern amenities but had left one bathroom with a clawfoot tub, which is useless when it comes to taking a shower, but perfect for a luxurious bath. I melt the minute I step in. My mind has been running a hundred miles per hour as of late. The painting helped but this is helping more - I didn't realize how tense I've been all day.

My phone rings just as I'm getting comfortable in the bath. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realize Colin said he'd call around this time. I switch my wine to my left hand and reach over the edge of the bathtub to quickly tap the accept and speakerphone commands.

"Hi, Colin!" I call out, sinking back into the cloud of bubbles.

"Who's Colin?"

Sitting up suddenly, water splashes onto the tiled floor as I peer over the edge of the tub at the caller ID.

Brett.

"Hello?" he says impatiently. "Who the fuck is Colin?"

Irritated that he's interrupting my bath, and my vacation for that matter, I Immediately want to yell at him that it's none of his fucking business. But instead, I take a deep breath and say in the calmest voice I can muster, "Brett, I wasn't expecting a call from you."

"Obviously not," he says suspiciously. 

"Now isn't a good time. I don't think you're even supposed to be calling me."

"Why? Because your mother and her goons are involved now? That was a low blow, Lara. You couldn't just lie down and take it? You had to run to your mommy right away?"

I pinch my nose and close my eyes. I can hear it in his voice, the anger seething below the surface. He's controlling it right now, his teeth clenched, the fake smile plastered on his face for anyone that might pass by his office. I know the routine.

"Brett, I don't think we should be talking right now. Is there something you want?"

I hear him get up and close his office door. Then hear the sound of his desk drawer opening. It'll be a generous pour of vodka in a paper water cup - downed in one go and then he'll pour another. I know because I've been in the same room with him dealing with whatever was making him angry. It's just that I wasn't usually on the receiving end, at least not in the beginning. About a year into our marriage I started to see a side of him I hadn't seen before.

"Now you listen to me. I'm not letting you take me down with you. This decision came from the board and I need you to back down. You need to stop gallivanting all over fucking Europe and get back here and settle things with your goons for lawyers! It's chaos here and you're...you're off fucking some guy named Colin! What is wrong with you?! You've lost it, you're really off your fucking rocker this time you know that?!"

He breathes deeply as the sound of liquid being poured reaches my ears. Another one, I think – he must be in bad shape.

"I thought you loved this company we built," he continues with venom, "But I guess not. When it goes up in flames it's going to be entirely your fault! I hope you're happy with the decisions you're making right now because I for one am very disappointed in you!"

How dare he speak to me like that?! My blood is boiling, my pulse throbbing loudly in my head making my vision blur as I search for the words. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think of him - to tell him to go to hell. But a thought enters my mind suddenly seemingly out of nowhere.

He doesn't control me anymore...

I'm no longer beholden to him, not in marriage, and now not in business either. For the brief moment the thought lingers I latch onto it like a lifeline.

He doesn't control me anymore, I repeat to myself.

And that includes how I choose to react. The Lara that was married to him would have screamed back obscenities, or depending on how much he had to drink, choose the right words to de-escalate the situation.

But that was then. So taking a deep breath, and then another, I respond as even-keeled as I can. "Brett, I'm going to hang up now. There's a reason I hired lawyers."

"Don't you dare ha-"

I end the call, sink into the bath, and stare up at the ceiling. I want to throw something! I want to scream! But instead, I take another deep breath, followed by another, forcing my nervous system to calm down.

One.

Two.

Three.

It's not magic, and it's not instant but eventually, my heart rate returns to normal.

My phone rings and I go to silence it, but it isn't Brett this time - it's Colin. Still, I send it to voicemail with a heavy sigh. I just don't have it in me. I'm too keyed up, and more mentally exhausted than when I got into this bath. Sitting for a moment longer, I hug my knees into my chest and stare at nothing in particular. Finally, when the bathwater turns lukewarm, I get out and towel off.

I doze off the minute my head hits my pillow and Colin's voicemail goes unchecked.