A Healing Love
Copyright© 2025 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 17: Creator of Winter
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 17: Creator of Winter - Paul Robertson's journey continues as his past and present collide at a star-studded movie premiere, where a connection that once terrified him reignites with passion that threatens to consume them both. Fighting to forge a new future for himself and stop drifting, Paul must finally become the man he’s always been afraid to be. A beautiful, bittersweet exploration of grief, social responsibility, the healing power of love, and learning that sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction
I didn’t say any of that to Carly. How could I? I mean, I should, and I almost certainly would. Just not yet.
Although I think she already knew.
I certainly knew she loved me, so she must know I loved her. She’d be able to feel it, wouldn’t she?
She’d already told me she loved the way I looked at her. Well, I looked at her the way I did because I was in love with her.
And she must have known that.
Anyway...
After our early morning exercise, we showered together, dressed, and headed down to breakfast by eleven. Not quite ‘all morning’ in bed, but near enough.
After breakfast, I went into the dining room and finally called Marie, having put it off last night because of course I did.
As I sat at the dining table that none of us ever used in the dining room we rarely entered, waiting for her to answer, I wondered if the room might be better as an office from which to run Wintersmith Holdings. It was, after all, where the company had been formed when I signed all those papers with Chris.
“Oh, hi Paul, I’ve been meaning to call you. I’ve got the first three proposals for a logo and stationery back, and I was hoping to show them to you.”
“Really? Oh, okay. That’s excellent. Are you free today? We may as well get it out of the way.”
“That’s fine, but you do know I charge time-and-a-half for ‘out-of-hours’ work, right?” Her tone was light and playful.
I grinned and shook my head, although obviously she couldn’t see me.
“Of course you do,” I said, with mirth in my voice. “Is after lunch good for you? Say, two?”
“Yep, that’s fine. I’ll be over then. I’ve also got the details of how you log on to your new email account. I hope you don’t mind, but I just used the same IT people David uses to register the domain and set up the accounts. It just seemed easier than going to tender like we have with this logo and stuff. Mind you, I bet IT people are easier and more straightforward to deal with than these designers. They’ve been a real pain. Anyway, I’ll see you at two.”
“Okay. I did call to ask you to set up a couple of meetings for me, but if you’re coming over, I can give you the details then. See you at two.”
The doorbell rang at about five past two, and I got up to answer it. Carly came with me, holding my hand as if she never wanted to let go.
“Lana?” I said as I opened the door. Even I could hear the surprise in my voice.
She raised an eyebrow and said, with just a hint of amusement, “You were expecting someone else?”
“Erm, well ... Yes, I was actually.”
“You did say to come over this afternoon, didn’t you? Is now not a good time? I can come back later.”
I nodded. “No, you’re right, I did say this afternoon. I just forgot. But now’s fine, I’m just waiting for—Marie!” She’d walked up the garden path while I was talking to Lana.
“Hi, Paul. Sorry, I’m late. I had to go into the office to collect a few things, then got stuck in traffic on the way back.”
“Not a problem. Come on in.” I looked across at Lana. “You too. Come in.”
I held the door open for them, with Carly still at my side, holding on to my hand, and ushered them both into the hallway. “Go through to the kitchen,” I said, pointing in that direction.
As they did so, Imogen appeared in the lounge doorway. “Want me to make drinks, Paul?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.”
She smirked at me. “You sure?” She really did look very amused.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure I can handle making some coffee or tea or pouring some Coke or whatever else everyone wants.”
“Cheers, mate!” came Mark’s voice from the lounge. “I could use a brew. Some biccies too.”
“Me too,” Imogen said, still looking extremely amused as she went to sit on the sofa with Mark.
Carly and I followed the other two young women into the kitchen to find them standing beside the kitchen table. Marie had what looked like her laptop bag with her—the same one she’d had at the Director’s meeting, which I realised was now almost two weeks ago.
“Do you need the Wi-Fi?” I asked.
Marie smiled. “It would help, but I’ve printed everything anyway. That’s why I went into the office.”
“No problem.” Then I shouted towards the lounge, “Hey, Mark, have you got the card with the Wi-Fi password?”
“Under the router in the hallway, where it always is,” he called back.
Carly squeezed my hand. “I’ll get it,” she said, and then she left my side for the first time that whole morning. “You make that drink. You know how I like my coffee.”
I nodded, then looked at Alannah and Marie. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Coffee, please,” they both said at the same time. Then they exchanged glances and giggled. In that moment, they could easily have been mistaken for sisters, given their similar height and build, and both having long blonde hair. Marie had hers tied in a loose ponytail, while Lana’s wavy locks hung freely down her back. Even their outfits were similar, both wearing tight blue jeans that accentuated their curves and simple grey zip-up hoodies.
I just rolled my eyes and went over to the corner of the kitchen to fill the kettle and switch it on.
As I was taking some mugs out of the cupboard, Carly returned. She handed Marie the credit card-sized piece of white card with the Wi-Fi password on it and smiled.
Once again, I was struck by the similarities between Carly and the other two. She was of a similar height, shorter than me by six or seven inches, there or thereabouts. Hannah had been about the same height, too.
In fact, they all had, going all the way back to Clarissa. Hell, even going as far back as Kelly when I was sixteen. Kelly, then Clarissa, then Gina in New York, then Carly in Nashville (and again now), then Vanessa, Paige, and Hannah. Even though I was most definitely with Carly right now, I’d be lying to myself if I denied that I was attracted to both Lana and Marie. Hell, at the start of the summer, when I was working for Will and Chloë was encouraging me to ask someone out on a date, the choice had been between Paige and Marie. Ultimately, I’d called Paige, but I had been very close to calling Marie instead.
And they were all so very similar in so many ways. Tall, but not quite as tall as me, with long blonde hair, ample breasts, a round backside, and legs that seemed to go on forever...
Mark was right, I had a type.
But what about Lisa, right? I was with Lisa for a while, and she didn’t fit the template. I suppose you could say she was the exception that proved the rule.
Carly came over to me, kissed me on the cheek, smiled, and held up a CD case.
It was one of those that Harry had burned the two new versions of ‘A Woman’s Work’ onto for us.
I nodded and said, “The CD player is over there on the windowsill. By the French doors.”
My kitchen had a set of double doors that opened onto the large back garden. There were also double doors leading to the garden from the lounge. The kitchen protruded slightly further into the garden than the lounge, which created a small patio outside the lounge doors. The windowsill, where the CD player sat, which was also a digital radio and Bluetooth speaker, was positioned beneath a large window that overlooked the patio. Most of the rest of the garden was simply grass—I wouldn’t even call it a ‘lawn’ because that implies it was well-kept, which it wasn’t—but there was a wooden deck in the far corner that was spacious enough for some wicker chairs and a table, all tucked under a pergola covered in climbing roses.
Mark and I had discussed getting a gas-fired barbecue for the patio so we could host parties towards the end of the academic year when the weather warmed up.
Once the CD was in the player, Carly returned to me with the remote control and said, “Want to do the honours?”
I smiled and took the remote from her, and we rejoined the other two at the kitchen table.
I still hadn’t made the coffee (or Mark and Imogen’s tea).
I looked at Marie. She had taken her laptop from the bag, and while she waited for it to boot up, she was retrieving a folder full of papers from one of the pockets inside the bag. “I guess some introductions are in order,” I said.
She smiled at me. There was a lot of smiling going on among the three women. It felt a bit forced. “I guess so.”
“Carly, Alannah,” I said, gesturing towards Marie, and adopting an overly ‘formal’ tone, “This is Marie.” I paused and grinned. “My Executive Assistant.” That was the first time I’d introduced Marie in that way to anyone. It felt odd, but strangely satisfying. “She’s basically going to run my holding company for me and manage any time I need to spend on it, too—arranging meetings, telling me where to be and when, that sort of thing. Early days, but she’s already been brilliant at it.”
Marie blushed and said, “Hi.” Then she looked at me and added, “I haven’t really done anything yet, so how can you say I’ve been brilliant?”
I shrugged. “Because I know you will be.”
She blushed again.
“Marie, this is Alannah,” I said, gesturing to my friend and taking on the comedy formality again. “She and I went to the same school, and last term we were badminton doubles partners. We even got to the semi-finals of the university tournament.”
Alannah rolled her eyes and shook her head. “And then my knee gave out and we got smashed by the reigning National Champions.”
I continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “She also plays the cello and has just recorded some music for a new version of Carly’s song, which is what’s on the CD.”
“Song?” Marie said.
I then gestured to Carly. “Marie, this is Carly Williams, but you might know her better as—”
“Kayla Valentine?” Marie said, holding her hand to her mouth in shock. “I thought you looked like her, but dismissed it because, like, why would a star like you be here with Paul. But then, I suppose, Chloë comes around here sometimes, doesn’t she, Paul? So, why not?
“I love your song. The one from Chloë’s movie. It’s so good. And you’ve got a new version of it? Can we hear it?”
“That’s the plan,” I said. “Because Alannah’s cello is on this new version.”
“Hang on,” Alannah said. “You said Chloë comes around here sometimes. You don’t mean...? Do you? You’re not talking about ‘the’ Chloë? Chloë Goodman?”
I looked at Marie and said, “You’re going to have to learn to be a bit more discreet.”
She winced and said, “Sorry. I didn’t think.”
“It’s okay. I’m guessing that Lana would have worked it out sooner or later anyway.”
“So, it’s true?” Lana said. “You know Chloë Goodman? How? For how long?”
I sighed. “It’s a long story and I’m not telling it now.”
She stared straight at me. “But you will tell me, right?”
Imogen had walked into the kitchen while this conversation was going on. “He met her in the university library. He was sitting at the desk she always used to sit at with her boyfriend and still likes to use when she needs some peace and quiet to read scripts or whatever. She sat with him anyway, and he ended up telling her his life story,” she said as she walked past towards the kettle. “So, it’s not really a long story at all. Now they are friends, and she invited him, along with a bunch of us, to the première of her movie in London earlier this month, and it was at the party afterwards that Paul met Carly again. They were both really shocked. Shame you weren’t there to see it.” She turned to face us all. “Either of you. Now, shall I make the drinks since you seem to have forgotten?”
“Can we get back on track?” I asked. “We need to play this new version of ‘A Woman’s Work’ for Lana.” I glanced at Marie. “And then you need to show me whatever it is you need to show me.”
“Oh, what have you got to show him, Marie?” Imogen asked as she poured hot water into the six mugs—three instant coffees and three teas. “How do you girls take your coffee, by the way?”
“Strong and sweet, please,” Carly replied.
“Same,” said Lana and Marie in unison. Again, they exchanged glances and giggled. This was getting weird.
“Marie has logos for Wintersmith,” I said. “Well, proposals for logos or something.”
“And stationery,” she added. “I’ll explain what everything is properly when we get to it. But are we going to hear this new version of this song? Hey, am I going to be one of the first people to hear it? That’s so cool. When’s it out? Is it coming out? Or is it, like, one of those demos that most people never get to hear?”
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