She took a deep breath and reached for her crutches, sliding her arms into the cuffs. Pushing away from the padded frame propped in front of the canvas, she made her way slowly over to the workbench and picked up the invitation. If it hadn’t been for her support network, this would not be happening.
She was genetically stubborn, but in recent years that hadn’t always been enough. After the accident, after Jack’s sudden disappearance, while nursing a broken heart and a broken body, she had been overcome with doubt, heartache and frustration. Sometimes the disappointment and sense of betrayal, the uncertainty of a future that seemed hollow and empty, had almost consumed her. But she had come through it, and she had her friends, her family to thank for that. They had been right there with her. They held her up when she felt herself falling. They had dragged her up by her hair at times, warning her to get her act together. They taught her that acceptance didn’t mean giving up – or giving in. It had been a team effort and she was eager to share the moment with them. She was glad that tonight was movie night. She could fill them in then.
She put the invitation back on the workbench. Her gaze wandered around her studio. Beneath the window, finished canvases were stacked in front of each other against the wall in several piles, waiting for the decision of whether or not they were to be included in the exhibition. Like dancers lining up at an audition, they waited patiently, each one speaking to her, mentally extolling its merits.
One in particular spoke so loudly it stood out, even though it was partially hidden behind another canvas. Linda had been insistent that this one was included, but Ally still wasn’t convinced. She trusted Linda’s judgment without question, but this painting was different. It laid her soul bare and she wasn’t sure she wanted the world to see how damaged she really was. Linda had argued that the portfolio would not be complete without it and, in principal, Ally agreed. But on an emotional level, it was a different story. The fact that it was part of her ‘Evolution’ series made the decision that much harder to make.
She was eager to show off that series most of all. It was the most personal of all her work, documenting the various stages of her physical and mental recovery following the accident, and it held a special place in her heart. It was the series she was most afraid and most proud of. It exposed her vulnerabilities – her insecurities, her heartache and fear – but it also showed her overwhelming desire to conquer this new life and to emerge stronger than ever. As she revisited the conversation she had had with Linda that morning, she realised that on days like today, everything seemed to fall into perspective. It had been a journey, the past four years – and now she felt like it was finally coming to an end. A new journey was beginning.
She took a mental step backwards, assessing her studio space from an outsider’s point of view. The walls were a vibrant lime green and her finished canvases adorned every space that wasn’t already occupied by a door, window, storage shelf or workbench. A large shelving unit along one wall held supplies, while a dual-height bench took up another entire wall, littered with materials she had been using, blank canvases stored underneath. Callum and Tom had built the workbench themselves, so that it had space for her wheelchair to fit comfortably underneath on one half, with the other half higher, so she could stand in front of it when she was wearing her braces, angling her hips forward and balancing against it. Callum had insisted on padding the front of the higher end, minimising the possibility of bruising. He had done everything he possibly could to make things easier for her and she owed him a debt of gratitude she knew she could never possibly repay. Without him, she wouldn’t be standing here – literally.
He had been there from the moment she woke up in the hospital after the accident. Part of her suspected that he was trying to fill the hole that Jack had left, because he felt some sense of moral obligation to make up for Jack’s shortcomings. She shuddered, wondering how different things might have been if Jack had stayed. Callum had been there for her, through everything, because Jack wasn’t.
Guilt had to be behind Jack’s decision to leave, she had decided long ago. She didn’t blame him for the accident, and if he had stayed, she would have told him that. But he didn’t and she never got the chance.