What?
I quickly look over at Michelle who holds up two fingers, silently letting me know that the showing is now in “museum phase” because there are no pieces left to purchase.
“Do you have a business card?” I ask the woman. “I’ll be sure to shoot you an email the next time this artist has a show.”
“Please do.” She quickly places her card into my hand. I give her one last smile and walk away heading off to tell Autumn the good news.
When I’m halfway there, I feel another patron tapping my shoulder, hear a familiar voice say, “Can you tell me about this one?”
I turn around and find myself face to face with Dean. I know he’s not really interested in the painting that’s in front of us—a picture of him in all blue and silver, but I begin to explain it anyway.
“It’s called Resentment,” I say. “It’s about an amazing relationship gone bad. One that breaks down on multiple levels before it can even begin.”
“How is it about a relationship if the picture’s only one person?” His eyes have never left mine and mine have never left his.
“If you look a bit closely into the picture, you’d see that the guy is actually made up of smaller frames of her.”
“Her?” he asks.
“Yes. She’s a woman who spent ten years hating a guy for something she didn’t totally understand.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t all her fault,” he says, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear on my face. “From this picture, I can tell that the guy in question probably never told her what he was going through. He probably treated her terribly instead of telling her the truth.”
“Yes,” I say. “The ‘he’ from the picture was actually quite an asshole at times. She was an absolute angel.”
He smiles. “I’m not interpreting that part, but what I do see is that he desperately wants to make up with her if she’ll finally give him five minutes of her time.”
I nod and he slips his hand around my waist, pulling me close to him and leading me outside. For a second, I think he’s going to talk to me out here, but he leads me into the abandoned building next door.
Letting go of me, he steps back and looks directly into my eyes. “If you never want to talk to me after today, I’m not going to lie and act like I’d be okay with that, but I’d do my best to deal with it.” He pauses. “Ever since you texted me and told me you read my letter—a letter I contemplated not giving you, I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to approach you and get you back.”
As if he regrets taking his hands off of me, he steps closer and runs his fingers through my hair.
“I know we were young when we fell in love in high school,” he says. “But it’s been ten years and I’ve never felt that way about anyone else. And I know for a fact that I will never feel that way about somebody else.”
He suddenly stops talking and kisses me deeply, not pulling away until I’m utterly breathless.
“Sorry,” he says softly. “I needed to get one of those just in case you do tell me that you don’t want to hear from me after today.”
I smile and he continues.
“I’m really not a guy who sits up and thinks before these emotional type of talks so please excuse me for how short this is about to be.” He pulls a small sheet of paper out of his pocket (It’s literally the size of a post-it note) and then he begins to read.
“Mia Gray.” He looks at me. “For the record, I know you’re aware that I stole your notebook on purpose in high school, but you also need to know that I temporarily stole your CDs, your books, and your journal—which you apparently stopped writing in during eleventh grade by the way.”
“What?”
He keeps going. “I had to do whatever it took to get you to talk to me, because for some reason you didn’t think I would be genuine, and to this day you probably still have no idea that you were the most beautiful girl at Central High.”
I blush.
“Every moment I spent with you during that fall semester was perfection, and I lie to you not, I’ve thought about those times every single day over the past ten years, and I wish I’d been able to put my goddamn pride to the side and call you to apologize and make up for lost time, but I was too stupid. Wait a second.” He flips the post-it over. “I never stopped loving you, I’m still in love with you, and if you let me, I will show you just how much I love you from here on out.” He pauses. “I also miss fucking you. Terribly. I love you, Dean.” He crumples the paper. “Ignore those last few lines, I completely forgot they were there.”