Page 37 of Portrait of A Lost Artist
VERONICA
“I’ll be getting over you my whole life.” - Labyrinth by Taylor Swift.
T HE SIGHT OF NATHAN LEAVES ME FEELING SUSPENDED BY A DELICATE GOLD THREAD FROM THE CEILING, EVERYTHING INVERTED, BLOOD POUNDING IN MY CHEEKS, MY HEAD SWIMMING, MY MOUTH HANGING OPEN IN STUNNED DISBELIEF AS HE SITS CASUALLY AT THE KITCHEN ISLAND.
He’s reading from an envelope he’s just opened, seemingly about some instant juice you just stir, and my phone clock strikes twelve.
I’m not even sure if I’ve got the time zones right anymore, but that’s the last thing on my mind.
I can’t stop looking at him.
It’s as if something within me had changed.
For me to find curves in the bump of someone’s nose endearing, like roads I’d like to travel in lost mountains that no one cares about.
I think of his lips, the curve of his bottom one, always a bit swollen—bigger against my tongue when caressed after a kiss.
Not only that, but his eyes don’t even divert to me, now half-covered by his longish hair, staring with intent and carefulness at the concoction he’s making.
Mine . There’s a deep-seated belief within me that a part of Nathan will always be intrinsically linked to me, a primal connection unlike any other.
The idea that a fragment of someone’s soul stays with us, especially when we’ve reflected each other’s lives.
However, my heart aches with a painful intensity, and the only thing anchoring me is the fragile hope that maybe, as he rests his head at night, a powerful thought of me will flicker through his mind, enough to break through his sleep.
“I’m not good at these things.” He’s talking about the juice, I know so, but my mind can only agree with him.
Romance is never something I’ve been good with.
The second option at last, always. The rarity of an excellent film that is never developed for anyone to watch.
“Lightning could strike and I’d still be figuring out if I need to add sugar or not. ”
“It looks like it doesn’t need sugar. If gastritis could be represented by one product, trust me, it’d be that one.
” I speak in a hurried undertone, almost a whisper, as if a louder voice holds some unknown threat.
I’ve been irrevocably changed since Nathan penned that damned letter.
I was so certain our connection was one of friendship, but true friends don’t ignite this constant yearning to be held by them, to wish for a forever within their embrace.
“ Miss ‘Know-It-All’ , let me take care of you even if it’s with sugar in a cup.
” Nathan crooks his hip and rests it on the edge of the counter, sparing me a glance through half-lidded eyes.
And I must be staring, for his pupils dilate and trail towards my lips, as if begging for the distance to be shortened by me.
I don’t have the nerve to do it just yet. “Have a sip.”
Instead of handing me the cup, he walks over and cradles its base with his hand, catching any stray drop that might fall and making his skin gleam.
I take a sip, but my gaze remains fixed on him.
The years I spent without him feel like a lost blur, because in truth, I’ve been searching for him for so long—that one love that felt eternal.
But then fear washes over me, erasing any sense of certainty as I absently wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“It tastes exactly how sugar in a cup would taste like.”
“Tell that to your doctor and enjoy it.” Though, he places the cup down, quirking an eyebrow at the same time that he gives me a tight-lipped smile.
He has changed his clothes for a pair of pajamas after spending the entire day with me, just briefly talking and lounging around, the collar half-bent and begging me to drag him closer by the fabric.
“I imagine it will take a while for us to get used to communicating like we did before.”
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, but fuck 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 move anywhere , 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.
“Not really.” He adds, fingers hooking onto the elastic of my flowery skirt and pulling it down smoothly.
His mouth spreads kisses from my calves to my inner thighs, breath hot against my skin, pulse points growing wicked at the sight of him.
With a bite to his full bottom lip, he says: “ Let me see what I’ve missed, sunshine . ”
I close my eyes, tugging at his hair. “Yes, please.”