Free Picture Perfect (The Wilsons) by Alicia Roberts

smell of rubber, the blinding lights, and finally, the crash.
    Thankfully, the two passengers were unhurt. The accident had left her numb and in shock - and had scared her enough to go and get therapy. She could've killed someone, just by being careless.
    She explained to Adam how that night, the memories of her last four years' of partying had turned sour. A few weeks later, she'd quit drinking, given up on her old friends and habits, and gotten an internship at a small hedge fun. Her dad’s lawyers managed to keep the news out of the papers, and a generous settlement to the passengers of the other car meant that nobody ever breathed a word of what had happened.
    Adam moved over to her sofa and took her hand in his. “It’s okay.”
    His voice was gentle and he squeezed her hand.
    Lea gulped and looked up at him. “Why are you consoling me? It was my fault.”
    Adam felt tingles travelling up from his fingers where he held her, and quickly let go of her hand and scooted further away on the couch.
    “It’s not your fault anymore,” he said, shrugging casually. “You could’ve hurt someone, but you didn’t. It’s like saying I could’ve killed that receptionist because I was mad at him, so I should feel guilty. Anyway, you paid the guys whose car you hit a lot of money, so they’re happy. And you turned your life around. You’re making sure you’re doing a good job, making people around you happy, and all that stuff. You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about now.”
    Lea nodded slowly. “Well, at least what you’re saying makes me feel better. Sure you don’t hate me?”
    Adam smiled, his eyes glowing gently. “I’m sure.”
    “Ok. Then tell me about your work. How do you see such terrible things and stay so happy and carefree all the time?”
    She almost regretted a sking him. Almost, but not quite – she was far too curious about his contradictions.
    Adam’s eyes darkened and he stared down at his plate, and then glanced at the cake he’d made. Finally he said, “I’ve seen a lot of terrible things. People are brutes, they’re savages. It’s unbelievable what terrible things they’ll do to others, and you… You don’t even understand when you hear it, or see photos. You see it in front of you… You talk to…”
    He blinked and stared at his fingernails, and then cleared his throat. “Anyway. It’s too easy to see terrible people and terrible things and get down on life. There was a time when I questioned God, and I wondered why I was the one who was so lucky, the one on the other side. Not the one getting raped or tortured or murdered. But it’s just the way it is.”
    It was Lea’s turn to scoot closer to him, and now she really did regret asking him and dredging up his old memories. She placed one arm awkwardly on his shoulder, and grabbed hold of his hand.
    “I’m sorry I asked,” she said.
    He turned to look at her, and his eyes had a blank, distant look. “No, it’s ok,” he said, and then his tone lightened. “Anyway, what I was just about to say, was – at some point I realized that it wasn’t my fault for being lucky, for being born in the right place to the right parents. I can’t blame myself for that, I can only do what I can to report the violence. And at the end of the day, there are a lot of great people in the world, and I owe it to myself to be happy. And if I seem crazy and lighthearted, it’s just because I don’t see the point in getting too serious about stuff.”
    ***
    Adam’s eyes intensified again, boring into hers, and Lea smiled and removed the arm she’d placed on his shoulder. “I think it’s ok to be serious about stuff sometimes,” she protested lightly. “I could never survive without my to-do list.”
    “It’s good to be spontaneous sometimes.”
    Adam grabbed hold of both her hands, and looked into her eyes. His gaze was deep and powerful, and Lea found herself growing increasingly nervous. His presence was magnetic, and she looked away