Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad you could come.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I pull back and brush away a tear. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have done it without your support.”
“Listen, Dani. I’m not saying this because you’re my daughter and my only child, but you’re the greatest artist in the world. Picasso, who? Van Gogh, who? And nobody better disagree with me on that.”
He looks so ready to fight with anyone that I laugh. “Stop it, Dad.”
“I’ll fight them. The entire Sweetheart Falls will.”
My earlier nervousness is gone and replaced by euphoria. I did it. I really did it.
Two years after moving back, I came to the city again, not to try my luck or be another corporate slave. I’m here for my first exhibit.
I’m so happy I don’t know whether to squeal or giggle. This all feels unreal, like I’m watching this happen to someone else.
The exhibit is at a small gallery and probably someplace the world’s most well-known art critics don’t even know about, but I don’t care. This was my lifelong dream, and now it’s coming true.
Matthew was right. He predicted I’d get my mojo back, and I did. I started small—painting his ceramic plates and mugs. Then, I did murals for the buildings he owned. When I was confident enough, I worked on canvas.
I painted, drew, and sketched whenever and wherever I wanted. I couldn’t stop. The inspiration just kept flowing. It’s like I was making up for the time I lost working for a company that didn’t give a damn about me.
And this collection?
I made them on our cabin terrace. The paintings aren’t exactly earth-shattering, but they hold a special place in my heart. Dad doing his crossword puzzle in the kitchen, the weekend thunderstorm as I remember it, Goldie playing in the mud.
And my favorite?
The one with Matthew and Goldie playing in the river. The afternoon sun made the ripples in the shallow water shimmer like liquid gold. Matthew wading in the river, his jeans rolled up to his knees, and laughing as Goldie splashed water everywhere.
None of these artworks is for sale. I came here to showcase my work and announce that I’m ready to accept commissions. That’s it. Potential customers get to see my portfolio and style.
“Man, these paintings are something else. I wonder who the artist is and if she doesn’t mind giving me her number.” I jump and almost spill the champagne as Matt whispers in my ear and wraps his arms around my waist from behind.
I melt into him. “How do you know the artist is a she?”
“I just feel it.”
“Then she’s probably taken.”
“Hope the bastard knows how lucky he is.”
I spin in his arms and kiss him. He’s wearing a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and black dress pants. I’ve never seen him like this, and it robs me of breath.
God, he’s so handsome, and he’s mine.
When everyone finally leaves, and only Matt and I are left, he sets his phone on the table, and music fills the small space.
“May I have this dance?” His eyes twinkle with a playful light.
“Matt, I haven’t danced since prom!”
“Neither have I.”
His arms encircle my waist, and I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his steady heartbeat under my palm. We sway together, and the world from beyond the gallery disappears.
“Dani?”
I pull back just enough to see him stare at me intently. “Yes, Matt?”
“There’s a decade I’ll never get back. A decade of not being by your side because I was a selfish prick who only thought of what he wanted.”
“Matt, no.”
“Now, I’d like to remedy that and try again.”
“What do you—”
Matt lets go of me and goes down on one knee. I’ve seen this exact picture of him before, but that was back when we were kids. He takes out a small red velvet box from his pocket and opens it. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Dan? Will you give this poor man another chance?”
My hands fly to my mouth as tears slide down my cheeks. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, and no, I’m not running away again.”
He slides the ring onto my finger and presses his lips on it. “I know, Dan. I know. And that’s why I did it here, with only you and me, so you don’t feel any pressure to say yes. So you can say no if you’re not ready.”
I give him a dramatic look of surprise, my mouth forming an ‘o’. “Say no? Wait. That’s an option? Darn it. You could’ve said so earlier!”
“Oh, you brat.” Matt kisses me hungrily, sending sparks of pleasure all over me.
And so I stand there, the love of my life kissing me, my artworks displayed all around me, Goldie waiting for us at home, and I think, ‘What a beautiful, beautiful life.’