Page 233 of Share with Me

Chapter Seventy

“Iwas thinking aloud, Brin.” Ivan could not believe what he was seeing. The whole warehouse had been gutted, windows cleaned to let the sunlight in, and scaffoldings were everywhere up against the taller windows. Clearly, Brinley’s crews had been here. “Tell me you didn’t buy this warehouse.”

“You wanted a music studio.” Brinley’s lips quavered.

“I wanted to rent asectionof the first floor. You bought the entire building.”

“Maybe we could expand the music studio.”

“Sure we could.”

“But?”

Ivan’s shoulders sagged. “If you keep buying things, you’re going to run out of money. Ask me how I know.”

“It was at half price.”

“Millions of dollars.” Ivan remembered his old statistics on the warehouse. The property might have appreciated, but he doubted by much.

“I didn’t want to lose the warehouse,” Brinley added. Ivan saw the relief in her eyes.

“Is it the warehouse per se or the memory of our conversation of it?” He put his good arm around her shoulders. “Know what I think, Brin? I think you don’t want to lose the memory of our moment together at the lighthouse when we looked over the pier and saw this place.”

Now Brinley was visibly in tears.

Ivan’s cupped Brinley’s face in his hands. His left wrist still hurt a bit if turned the wrong way, but what bothered him more right now was what he could see written in her face.

She doesn’t want to lose me.

Ivan lowered his lips.

She didn’t protest.

And he kissed her gently, sweetly, then ravenously. The way he had wanted to on their first evening together, after the party, in the moonlight, on the terrace, all that, before life got complicated.

Forehead to forehead, he paused to take a breather. “How’s that for a new memory?”

Brinley smiled.

Ivan tried to think of how he could tell her what he wanted to say in such a way that she wouldn’t be offended.

“I like your idea of putting me on a budget,” he began. “Matt is doing wonders with my finances. I’m on a path to becoming debt-free. I’m happy to see that I’m starting to keep more than I spend.”

“Good for you, Ivan.”

“So.” Ivan drew her closer. “We need to put you on a budget too, Brin.”

Brinley gasped.

Then she seemed to calm down. “Touché. Should’ve seen that coming.”

“I want to be sure we can afford our kids—future kids, plural hopefully—in college.”

Brinley chuckled. Then turned somber: “I’m proud of you, Ivan.”

“Not me. Be proud of God. He never left me nor forsook me even when I pumped my fists at Him and spat at His face, so to speak. Now I am experiencing a new journey of trusting God not only at the point of salvation, but for the rest of my life.”

“The prodigal son comes home.”

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