Page 60 of Portrait of A Lost Artist
We’ve only scratched the surface of everything that’s happened. Our conversation has touched on his leaving the art world and my continued work with Alessia. But I shake my head, my throat tightening as I mumble:
“I don’t feel like talking right now.”
“How so?”
“I’m trying to do the smart thing and...understand what is going on inside my head right now, but I can only think of taking you by that fucking collar and making love to you against this counter.” I shake my head, passing a strand of my hair behind my ear, before sighing. “But I can’t do it if it’s not for real this time. If this is not the true love that I’ve been wanting for so long. I don’t want to be another option that—”
“No. God. Yes, you’re an option.” Nathan says, fingertips tantalizing the hairs of my arms, gently gliding across the skin. “But you’re also the only option that has existed in a long, long while.”
“There could be anyone else, Nathan. Why—?”
“None of them are you.” He shrugs, and for a moment, my breath gets caught in my throat.
Uh-oh.
Oh, no.
A lifetime seems like a short time to spend with someone like him.
An unknown force compels me forward, and our lips meet. I’m consumed by a feverish tremor, yet a strange tranquility settles over me, almost unsettling in its stillness. My hands find their way into his hair, a texture unfamiliar in its newfound length and waves, my breath catching before I trace the outline of his lips. It feels like learning to kiss him anew, each touch echoing my father’s words: ‘A dancer never forgets the steps to their favorite song.’
His hands push against my hip bones, guiding me back until the small of my back presses against the cool counter. He digs the heels of his palms into my hips, leaning into me until it feels as though our very beings are merging. A soft sigh escapes his lips as his hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, his gaze lingering. When his lips meet mine again, I can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart against my chest.
I had never thought a man could love me so potently that, when laying me on the counter, he stares at me as if I was art itself. He’s settled in between my thighs, sturdied by the connection of our lips only.
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” He shakes his head, as though he wants to say something else. “Or how much I’ve craved you. I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you on that trip to Havana. Trust me, Veronica, I will never let you go. Not again.”
“So, say it again. I want to hear it from you.” My breath comes in ragged gasps as I hold tightly to his neck, a silent plea for three words that should have been said to me long ago, but his presence now somehow eclipses those lost moments. I feel exposed and innocent, like a child thrust into a world blind to its cruelty.
“I love you.” The tremor in his voice catches me off guard. It sounds like a tear within him, as if he’s finally shed a part of his soul that had weighed him down for years, allowing his true self to emerge. “I’d go to hell and back if it meant having you, and I know I’m not worthy, butfuck it. I’ll show you all my colors until each one becomes your favorite. Don’t even doubt that.”
“...But I can’t stay.”
Doubt screams at the mention of something significant, beautiful, designed for me to embrace and build upon. Sometimes, we forget that love isn’t a constant enchantment that simply falls into our laps. But where there’s peace, love can reside. Where there’s the excitement and growth of forging a future together, there’s hope. Lying here in his arms, I’m starkly reminded that Nathan holds the potential for my greatest sorrow or my most authentic love story.
“My home’s not here. I—I don’t have a future in California. Not even a job. I can’t simply be...in this dream with you.”
“I just wanted somewhere simple, so I ended up here. Funny enough, it gives me this feeling, like this happy time I had in a country where I didn’t even know the language.Go figure.” His confession falls soft against my lips, leaning forward and trailing a hand down my back. “I’d moveanywhere, Veronica, if it meant having you.”
I had this whole rule about not trusting guys, thinking my heart was safer on its own. But then he looks at me, and he talks to me...and for the first time, believing someone feels right. It’s like something inside me just...let go.
I’d look for him anywhere in any person who ever dared lay a finger in my life, and that’s factual.
Nathan Calderwood is the only man I’ll be able to love.
“I love you.” Both my arms engulf him, dragging him closer, and I feel like I could burst at any second. Of happiness, certainty, knowing that I would choose him in any lifetime.
I had found him.
He had found me.
And that’s the best portrait he could give me.
His lips spread across my own, his words follow a tantalizing lick against my palate.
“You said something about making love on this counter, right?” Nathan’s brown eyes darken at the reminder. I nod. “Good thing that my visitors left for the night.”
“I think you kicked them out.” I joke, laughing.
