Page 155 of Off the Pitch

“Yes, why?”

“Remind me to drop her a note. I want to put a deposit on one.”

I turned my head and gave Hugo my best bewildered look. “You want to buy one? Which one?”

“The one of the loch you painted the afternoon it rained. That was the day I realised I loved you. I want to keep it forever and put it in our bedroom so I can look at it every day and remember how much I love you.”

“Our bedroom?” I said, barely managing to get the words out. “Does that mean…?”

“Yes, I want you to stay,” Hugo said as he turned to face me, his eyes filled with love and warmth. “Please stay. I want you to move in with me. I want us to build a home together—somewhere you can paint, and we can have a dog or two, and where we can curl up in the evenings together and watch whatever terrible reality show on Netflix catches our eye. I want us to have a kitchen we can cook in and a garden we can read in during the summer. I want to build a life with you Kit because I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” I kissed him, nearly pouring the remnants of my tea over myself in the process, but it didn’t matter because Hugo was offering me something I’d always wanted. A home with someone who loved me. “I want that too.”

I leant my head against his shoulder, filled to the brim with happiness, all my worries forgotten.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

HugoWhere are you?

KitOh sorry! I popped to the shop to get some pasta for later, and I got distracted. Did you know there’s a new patisserie that’s opened at the end of the road?

HugoYes lol, I’ve been avoiding it. Did you get pasta?

KitNot yet… but I did get 3 eclairs =)

Kit

“Are you ready?” Hugo asked, straightening my bowtie.

“I think so?” I said with a nervous chuckle. I’d been so up and down over the past few days, I had no idea whether I was ready or not, but it wasn’t as if I had much say in the matter. Especially since we were standing on the pavement outside the Daaé Gallery, which looked rather full from where I was standing. “I mean, it’s a bit late if I’m not.”

“We can stay out here a little longer,” Hugo said. He took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles. “Nobody will mind. They’ve got wine and canapes, and I’m sure they won’t notice if you’re a few minutes late.”

I smiled, my heart fluttering because I’d never realised it was possible to love someone this much. “No, it’s okay. We should go in, otherwise Hélène will come out and find me and drag me inside. Either way I’m ending up in there. This way will just be a touch more dignified.”

“I’m proud of you,” Hugo said, cupping my jaw in his fingers and gazing into my eyes, his own shining with warmth and love. “So fucking proud of you. This is your night. You deserve this.”

“Thank you.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him gently, taking comfort in the soft feel of his lips against mine. Stepping back, I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my violently beating heart. I took Hugo’s hand in mine and nodded, more to myself than to him. “Let’s go.”

The gallery was already packed, mostly with people I didn’t know. There were lots of unfamiliar faces milling around my art and gesturing to it, while sipping from flutes of champagne or glasses of wine and talking to their friends. In the far corner I saw David, Christian, Lily, and Harper, all evidently watching for us because David waved as soon as he saw me, a beaming smile on his face. Sighing with relief, I attempted to cross the room to get to them, but I’d only taken two steps in their direction when Hélène appeared at my elbow.

“Oh good, you’re here,” she said, giving me a business-like smile and steering me towards a cluster of people dressed in smart suits and elegant cocktail dresses who screamed ‘wealthy’ from a mile away. “I have some people for you to meet.” She threw a look over her shoulder, obviously summoning Hugo to follow us, because seconds later I felt his hand on the small of my back.

“It’s going to be fine,” he murmured. “They’re going to love you.”

I wanted to open my mouth and retort that statement, because that sounded highly unlikely, but then Hélène stopped by the group and started speaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen let me introduce you to Kit Macken. He’s the artist of all these gorgeous paintings. And this is his partner, Hugo Serin.”

Whatever part of my brain was still functioning quickly snapped into formality mode, and the endless lessons and reminders of how to behave in polite society that my parents had drilled into me started running as some sort of auto-pilot programme. I began shaking people’s hands and smiling, pretending to hear their names even though I knew I’d forget them within seconds. Beside me, I could hear Hugo introducing himself and repeating over and over how proud he was of me, and just those few words sparked a little fire of confidence in my chest.

“We were just talking about the composition in this one,” said a man to my left in a crisp powder-blue suit, pointing at the painting on the wall behind him—Loch Ness and the hills in bright reds, oranges, golds, and pinks, like I’d thrown a sunset onto the canvas. “Can you tell us a little about what inspired it? Your use of colour is unusual but exemplary.”

I smiled, wondering if I should tell them the truth. The painting was based on a photo I’d taken at Urquhart Castle during the afternoon we’d been pottering around there. The sun had hit the water of Loch Ness so beautifully it looked as if the lake was on fire. I’d come across the photo when we’d been back in London, and I knew I wanted to paint it. But that wasn’t the reason behind the colours. That had been the day I’d realised how in love with Hugo I was, and that was the way he made me feel—alive, burning and bright, like there was a sun inside my chest.

Hugo always treated me like I was the sun at the centre of his universe, and those colours had been the result of that feeling.

But that almost felt to personal to say. I didn’t want to lay my emotions out for these people to judge or scorn; they were mine to keep and treasure. Instead, I told them about our trip to Loch Ness, our afternoon at the castle, the way the sun had hit the water, and the way I’d felt so alive.

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