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Looking at it, I know that this is it. The night I met her.
The moment I fell in love with her.
To be honest, it’s not the painting that had me running like a little bitch. It’s what’s behind it. Tucked into the top corner, between the canvas and the wall is a notecard. It’s bright blue, a fancy letter C printed on the front. Cari’s sister made them for her for her birthday. She loves them. Only uses them for special occasions. People who matter.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, empty burrito wrapper in my hand, staring at that note card before I’m able to make myself stand and cross the room.
Plucking the card from its perch, I’m glad I’m alone because my hands are shaking like a leaf.
Quit being a pussy and read the fuckin’ thing already.
Con’s voice again. Too smart for his own goddamn good.
I hold my breath and flip it open. Reading it, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding until it was gone.
I love you too