Page 46 of Waiting for Sunshine

Sunshine.

Thoughts of Max flood my head as I stand here in the bathroom, tapping concealer under my eyes where mascara has slightly smeared. I wrapped his dog tags around my wrist to wear like a bracelet tonight. Even though Lauren told me it clashed, I didn’t care. I open my clutch to drop the concealer back in when my phone dings with a text notification.

Max

Don’t go running off with any rich art buffs tonight.

Me

Grumpy bar owners are more my speed.

I take a deep breath and look in the mirror one last time before heading back out to the gallery. When I walk out, I find Lauren looking at the piece I painted, proudly displayed at the auction.

“I am so proud of you, Shaney,” Lauren says, tears welling in her eyes.

“Stop it, I just finished crying, don’t you dare make me start again,” I say, hugging her tight. We both sniffle, trying to reel our emotions back in. I love how supportive all of my friends are. They know the pain I went through and how hard I fought to get here. This is a big moment for me and I am so glad Lauren was here to share it with me.

“You wanna get out of here andreallycelebrate?” she asks, wagging her eyebrows. I give her a curious look, intrigued at what kind of trouble she wants to get into.

“Let’s do it,” I agree, setting my champagne glass on the tray as the waiter walks past us.

“Wait, wait,” Lauren stops me, grabbing my arm. “Stand over there.” She waves her hand in the direction of my painting.

“What, no!” I whisper back, glancing around the room. It’s one thing to have your painting displayed, but isn’t it kind of vain to pose in front of it?

“Oh my god, no one is over here right now, just do it.” She commands, pushing me over in front of the painting. Maybe it isn’t vain, maybe it is. But I’m choosing not to care. This is something I should be proud of.

Reminding myself never to argue with Lauren, I stand in front of the display. I cross my feet at the ankles and look over at the painting,mypainting, that’s about to be finding a new home after tonight. It’s a bittersweet feeling. This painting means so much to me, it’s such a powerful statement of how I went through such a dark time in my life, drowning in grief, but I made it out the other side. Before I know it Lauren is locking her arm through mine, and we are heading out the door.

“What did I tell you about leaving before saying goodbye.” His tone all tease, Hugh walks over to Lauren and me by the door.

“Sorry, Hugh. We got swept up in plans to celebrate.” I smile at him apologetically.

“You’re forgiven. Go celebrate, but be safe. Shane, I would like to speak with you again, sometime soon. Contact me when you’re back in Nashville will you?” he asks in a more serious tone. I give him a nod, letting him know I will, while wondering what on earth about.

Tonight isn’t the night for questions though, tonight is a night to celebrate. Because I just had my very first piece of art displayed in a gallery. This is surreal.

CHAPTER22

MAX

I absolutely hated leavingfor Texas the day after I finally kissed Shane for the first time. I decided after one day of being gone that I wouldn’t leave for that long again unless absolutely necessary. At least, not without taking her with me. Then after getting back, I find out she has to leave for San Francisco for an art event, and I hate that she’s out there without me. Lots of douchey rich guys, trying to sweep her off her feet talking about paintings, thinking they have a chance.

Like hell they do.

I thought maybe I wouldn’t miss her as much as I have, but here I am, using the social media account I never thought I’d touch to look her up. I find Shane’s page, seeing an update from 20 minutes ago at the event they’re attending.

My Sunshine.

She looks absolutely stunning in her gold dress and high heels. Her wavy hair is pulled back in a ponytail with loose wavy pieces framing her face. I feel warmth in my chest when I notice she’s wrapped my dog tags around her wrist like a bracelet. She’s a fucking vision, she’s got my name wrapped around her wrist, and somehow everything about that feels right. She stands next to a painting hanging in a glass display, and she’s looking up at it so intently.

The painting is absolutely breathtaking. On the left are variations of yellow and orange, then it gets really dark in the center with browns, blacks, and dark gray, then on the other side the dark blues turn lighter until it looks like ocean water. I zoom in and am almost knocked on my ass when I see the plaque under it. It’s hers.Shepainted it? Why didn’t she tell me she would have a painting on display?

When I swipe to the next photo my jaw clenches. She’s standing next to a guy with salt and pepper hair but doesn’t look much older than me. His arm is around her waist and they’re both smiling ear to ear. I click on the tag and see the name,Hugh Burgess.The owner of the gallery and the boss she hated leaving. I try to calm my jealous streak down as Tucker walks up and slaps me on the head with his towel.

“Shit, Tucker,” I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck.

“We’re supposed to be working out here Max, not stalking your girlfriend.” He jokes, looking over my shoulder at the Instagram page I am stopped on. We had an early end to classes with the new Navy recruits today, so we decided to hit the gym before calling it quits.

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