Page 116 of Say It Isn't So

Uhh, this was harder than I thought, letting someone in. Giving my body to a man and being physical with them, letting them take me to new heights and share in that experience was one thing, but never had I ever opened up this much to anyone, let alone a man. I had never felt safe enough to, and that was the key. They never wanted to know more about me. They wanted to explore me, but not actually dig deep to learn about me. Who I was—whoBianca Morelliwas.

Was everyone this nervous before being the most vulnerable they had ever been? Because, if so, why did they do it?

With somewhat shaky hands, I opened the cover of my sketchbook and passed it over to him, ready to let Knox in. For him to know a piece of my heart I wasn’t ready to share with anyone else yet.

Taking it from me, he held it in front of his eyes and zeroed in on a sketch I was most proud of.

When you’re a kid, you’re constantly asked, if you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be? I’d always said flying because I’d thought that would be pretty cool, right? Fairies did it and I’d wanted to as well. But, in this moment, in this very moment when Knox was practically seeing the deepest part of me—the one thing that mattered more than anything ever had—I wished for the power to read his mind.

His eyes weren’t moving from the first ones I had done. It was a duo, two dresses in different styles.What did he think of them?Both were possible bridal gowns, or one a bridal gown and the other a dress for a daughter or bridesmaid, I wasn’t sure at the time I drew it. I just knew I wanted two complimentary looks. I added a little color to the page and really had fun drawing them. That was years ago, I remembered.Yeah, it was years ago, so he should probably just skip over it. Why is he staring at it for so long?

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to control my nerves and stop myself from taking it back, from ripping it from his hands so he couldn’t see anymore. “Maybe—” I went to go talk, but when he looked up at me with his brown eyes, they were filled with unmatched kindness and compassion. That was all I needed to steady my heart rate and stop speaking. I needed to remember this was Knox and he was a good guy, one of the best ones I’d known.

Running his index finger over the lines of the dresses, he stared at it for a beat before turning to me.

Out with it, my brain shouted at him.

“Bianca, these are incredible. Are they wedding dresses?” he asked, pointing to the full skirts.

“Yes, that’s the idea.”

He sat up straighter and turned to face me, his eyes bouncing between mine. “Is this your dream dress or something?”

“Something like that.” Honestly, I didn’t know what I was nervous about. The way Knox validated me in every way, how could I think this would be any different?

Suddenly excited to share more with him, I instructed, “Keep flipping,” and he did.

My stomach was in knots, but in the best possible way. I couldn’t believe after all this time, keeping this secret, I was finally able to share it with someone. Correction: I finallywantedto share it with someone.

As I waited while he flipped, I rolled my lips and fussed with my hair, a definite sign of just how nervous I was.

“There are pages and pages here.”

I shrugged and decided to fully explain things to him. “I have this dream of designing wedding dresses. It’s stupid, really, but something I always wanted to do.”

He angled his head. “Really? For how long?”

“Long enough.”

He set the sketchbook down on his lap and searched my eyes. “Then why aren’t you doing that?”

That was a loaded question. I wasn’t even sure where to begin. “I have a job.” I cringed before correcting myself—“had.”

“That’s all the more reason to do this. Take the leap. You could really have something here, Bianca. You have the connections, you know the industry.”

“Not bridal. That’s very niche.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You can do this. You’re Bianca Morelli. You can do anything you put your mind to. And if you do find yourself struggling along the way, you know plenty of people who will want to help you.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

He grinned and put his hands up in the air. “What? It’s true.”

“I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want special treatment, either.”

“If your mom was here, would you not accept her help if she offered it?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. “I suppose,” I said, dragging the word out as I considered it.

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