Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Scout
The last stroke of my paintbrush swipes against the brick wall, my breath catching in my throat.
The mural is finally finished.
With just under a week before the festival, I was starting to worry it wouldn’t be finished on time.
Luka’s tent really made all the difference. I didn’t realize how distracted I’d been from having a constant live audience, but now that I’m working in private, it’s like the connection between my muse and my paintbrush has opened up.
It’s been a long road to get here, with plenty of obstacles to overcome, but I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out.
It’s my first completed project since I’ve returned to myself, and I already know this project will be a highlight of my life.
A physical reminder of who I am, how far I’ve come, and proof of what I’m capable of.
And the subject matter couldn’t be any more perfect.
The Phantom represents a protector of this town. He calls us to live a higher purpose, to be the type of people who nurture love for our neighbor, as well as the land as a whole, and to always do the right thing, even when nobody is watching.
Just like Luka.
Once I noticed the similarities, I couldn’t unsee them.
His unwavering loyalty and heart of gold.
The way he does the right thing when no one’s watching, never asking for praise because he doesn’t need it.
Everyone writes him off as the town fuckup—misunderstood, dismissed, and overlooked.
But what they don’t see is the man behind the curtain, who’s making donations in secret, and using his talents to help causes he believes in.
All this time, Luka’s been the embodiment of everything this town claims to value, but they’re all too blinded by their own judgment to see it.
As much as he’s helped me recognize the type of love I deserve, I can only hope to do the same for him. Maybe someday, he’ll have the courage to let himself be fully seen without the mask. But until then, I’ll be here, loving him loudly, because in my eyes, there isn’t a soul more deserving.
My thoughts are interrupted when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from my dad.
Dad
This is your last chance to come home. Tomorrow I’m filing a lawsuit personally against Luka, as well as Kingsley Industries, for violation of the unfulfilled licensing against the Historical Preservation Committee.
This is bigger than a few years in prison, Scout. Luka and his family will be at risk of losing everything, and it will be all your fault.
Are you really sure that’s something you can live with?
I stare at the phone blinking, as all my fears begin to rush to the surface.
After dinner with Luka’s family the other night, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally free of this secret I’d been harboring, a secret I didn’t realize had been festering inside me since the day it happened.
I should have told them sooner. I hate myself for being such a coward, for being so weak to have let my parents get in my head and manipulate me into thinking it wouldn’t have changed anything.
But if I’ve learned anything this summer, it’s that hating myself won’t change the past. All I can do is be the type of person who is deserving of those things, to live a life I’m proud of, no matter who’s judging.
I’m not the same person I was when I came back here.
Being with Luka has opened my eyes, shown me what love is supposed to feel like.
Maybe he hasn’t said the words, but he doesn’t need to.
I feel it in the way he speaks to me, the way he cares for me, always going out of his way to make sure any need I have is met.
It’s in the way he sees me, really sees me. The way he not only accepts me for who I am, but celebrates me, every flaw, every scar, every negative trait. He’s perceptive, always watching me like I’m his greatest interest, and he remembers things I tell him because he genuinely cares.
It’s a far cry from the emotional abuse, disguised as love, I’m used to receiving from my parents.
My parents have counted on my fear of them, making sure I stayed in a position where I thought I needed them. They’ve purposely kept me close, kept me financially dependent on them, and kept my social circle small because keeping me small was the only way they could control me.
They withheld their love, tossing me only enough scraps to keep me content, so that I’d do what they wanted me to do. They made sure I’d always need to be chasing more. That I was never fully satisfied.
And the more time I spent with Luka, the easier it became to ignore them. They never had my best intentions in mind, and after all the pain and suffering they’d already caused me, there wasn’t anything left to hold over my head.
Until now.
They may not have anything left to hurt me, but my father always has another trick up his sleeve. And he knows exactly where to hit me where it hurts the most.
Luka has suffered enough for my mistakes.
“Looks good,” Luka says from behind me.
I throw the paintbrush I’m holding, startled by his voice. When I glance back, I find him watching me, his expression full of amusement.
“Here I thought I’d broken you from being so jumpy.” He untwists the cap from the cold bottle of water he’s holding and passes it to me.
“Maybe if you didn’t sneak up on me, I wouldn’t startle so easily.” I take a big gulp before passing it back to him.
“Well, aren’t you going to sign it?”
There’s a knot of hesitation in my chest at the thought of it. For some reason, an artist’s signature feels like a binding contract. A promise I’m not sure I’m able to keep.
“I don’t need the recognition,” I say with a shrug.
He narrows his eyes. “Why not? Aren’t you proud of yourself?”
“Of course, I am…” My words trail off as my eyes drop to my feet.
“But?” He asks, quirking a brow.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I was just in my head.” I grab a fresh paintbrush and dip it in black paint, then carefully sign my name at the bottom.
It’s the night before the festival, and I’m sitting cross-legged on the sofa, freshly showered, eating a bowl of ramen as we load the schedules onto the iPads and double-check that everyone’s information is accounted for.
For as chill as Luka seems to be on the surface, he’s a lot more tense than you’d expect.
I wouldn’t go as far as to say he seems stressed, but from the number of times he’s texted Ivy and asked for her feedback over the changes he’s made in the past week, I’d say he’s definitely taking his role seriously.
It was so cute seeing his nerd brain in action as he explained the new automations he added to the scheduling spreadsheet, making it completely interactive with only a click of a button.
Sometimes I forget how smart he is, but then I get a glimpse of him working in his zone of genius, and I’m reminded of how he was able to accomplish so much in so little time.
It amazes me, and I can’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy that he’s discovered his calling in life.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?” I ask.
“Yeah. I think so.” He looks up from the iPad he’s working on. “Are you?”
“Mostly…” I admit, fumbling with my chopsticks as the noodles slip through.
Luka stays quiet as he waits for me to continue.
I swallow hard, then finally say. “I’m nervous about the mural reveal. What if they don’t like it?”
He places the iPad down and shifts to face me, giving me his full attention.
“Are you crazy? Of course they will.” Luka clicks his tongue and places his bowl of ramen down on the coffee table.
“Talk to me. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?
” His eyes search mine, like he’s searching my soul for the answers.
I blow out a breath and finally admit my fear out loud. “I don’t know… I guess I’m just… sad that it’s over.”
He chuckles quietly, then finally says, “You’ve always been like this, you know.”
“Been like what?”
A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he gives me a knowing look. “It’s cute that you’re so predictable.” He rustles my hair playfully. “You always get sad when things end. While everyone else sees regular endings as a change in direction, you see it as the end of a story.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “No, it’s not a bad thing. I think your heart’s just bigger than everyone else’s. You feel emotions at a higher intensity than everyone else.” His green eyes lock on mine. “It’s your superpower, and it’s one of my favorite things about you.”
My chest fills with warmth at his compliment. “I don’t know… It kind of feels more like a weakness than a superpower.”
“Nah, caring too much is never a bad thing. You just need to make sure you’re caring about the right things, that’s all.” He pulls me toward him and tips my chin up to meet his eyes. “What are you really worried about?”
I blow out a sigh. There’s no use hiding it. This man sees right through me anyway. “This mural has given me purpose and finishing it feels like staring at a blank page. I’ve lost everything I’ve spent my whole life working toward, and once I close this chapter, I’m not sure what comes next.”
“Well, what do you want?”
It’s a simple question, but there’s nothing simple about the anxiety it elicits inside me. I feel my heart begin to race, my palms growing sweaty.
I shake my head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before,” I say honestly.
“What did you see yourself doing when you were younger?”
I tap my finger to my lip pretending to think, as if we both don’t already know the answer to that question. “Let’s see… at first I wanted to be a ballerina, and then a professional hockey player…”
“You know what I mean,” he chides.
“Fine,” I say on a sigh. “I always pictured myself as an artist.” I shake my head. “But that’s not a real job. I may as well have stuck with ballerina, as practical as that is.”