Epilogue
“Now, before you go getting any ideas, this is just a one time thing.” Iris paused, adjusting the blindfold over Tristan’s eyes.
“You can blindfold me anytime you like, Iris.”
“Quiet with you.” She tugged his hand gently forward. “Take one more step and then we’ll be on the sand.” He followed her lead. “And remember, this is just a small unveiling. Of course, I wanted to see your reaction first, but I’ve only invited a few people to this.”
“I understand. And I’m honored to be the one to see the first painting you’ve done while in Kisswick.”
Her heart beat incessantly within as she tightened her grip on his hand. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. After all this time. It didn’t seem real.
“I should admit that your plans to feature me in a gallery exhibit did inspire me.”
“Oh?” His lip tugged upward, and he looked adorably handsome despite the fact that she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Yes. So I have to thank you for that.”
“I will always put you first, Iris.” His thumb rubbed a soft circle on the inside of her wrist. “Even if I make mistakes while doing it, my heart beats for you, my love.”
His words seeped into her chest building another layer of love. She had longed for his affection for so long, that now, to truly have it, still felt like pure bliss.
As she turned him toward the easel, it was like her knees forgot how to work, they were trembling so bad. “You can open your eyes now.” And even though he was perfectly capable, she reached up on tiptoes to undo the blindfold.
His breath caught.
She held hers.
There were no words.
Just studying.
Him, the painting.
Her, him.
Finally, when she could bear it no more, she whispered, “What do you think?”
“I think it’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She blinked hard to push the wetness back inside. This was not a moment for tears.
“You do?”
“Yes.” He whirled around to her and picked her up, somehow cradling her in an upright position. “It’s you. And you’re beautiful. The most incredible person I know.” She could feel him inhale her scent the same way she did to him.
Her words came out choked, “I didn’t think I could do it. But you helped me see myself. I thought coming here, that the sea would be the first thing I painted,” she chuckled, “but it was me instead.”
“There’s some sea in the background.”
“True. Because this feels like home. You feel like home.” Once she had soaked up enough of his embrace, she pulled back. “Shall we invite the others down?”
“Yes.” And then he took a step back and shouted for the others to come down. Those in waiting emerged from behind the boulders, Violet leading the pack in a skip. Ladies didn’t run.
When she stood in front of the painting with her hand over her mouth, Iris failed to blink back a few tears.
“It’s wonderful,” Violet said breathlessly. “Simply wonderful.”
Alex stepped up behind Violet. “I was expecting the sea.” But then he tilted his head to take a closer look. “This is far from a disappointment. Great success, indeed. Well done, Iris.”
Rather than give it any attention, Iris quieted the tiniest part of her that felt foolish for unveiling a self-portrait.
This was her moment. She could choose to do with it what she wished.
And to reveal herself was her first step.
Perhaps later she may dream other dreams. For now, this was what she needed.
To feel fully herself. To be fully herself.
“I had no idea you were so talented. You’re a marvel,” Mirabelle cooed. “Once you move out and are settled, you can expect a request from me for an original, Iris.”
Iris walked over to her new friend. “I’m so sorry to be leaving you so quickly, Mirabelle. I never expected this to happen.”
Tristan perked up, “As Homer might have said, another one falls and bites the dust, or should I say, duke.”
“Falling for you is my greatest success,” Iris beamed at him.
“And you, mine.”
Alex groaned beside them causing Violet to nudge him. “Don’t bemoan other’s happiness.”
“Only their sappiness, Violet. Happiness they can have.”
“You’re so unromantic. And so particular. I bet you still wouldn’t drink from my cup if it held the last drops of water on earth.”
He merely cleared his throat and mumbled, “Something like that.”
Meanwhile, Tristan was ensuring everyone had a drink in hand in order that he might make a toast.
“To my best friend, my love, and my betrothed.” He raised his glass. “May she paint all the seas and live all her dreams with all the love in her heart.”
And she did.
With him.
***