Chapter 38 Lucas #2
Because even now, even after months of proof and therapy and every late-night conversation where he tried to piece together the truth for me…
there’s still a part of me that remembers a casket being covered with dirt.
A part of me remembers sitting next to that grave every time I needed his advice, only to get silence in return.
The breeze picks up, making the grass sway slightly, and I smile as two birds chase each other around, stopping on a branch before taking to the skies again.
The ease at which they move, seemingly without worry over what comes next, settles over me in a way that has me looking at my life through a different lens.
One that shows me that love can be flawed, messy, even misguided, and still be real.
I survived the worst versions of my life.
I think I can handle the rest. Because now, I know I’m not alone.
I know that I don’t have to do anything to make people stay, that their decision to leave or stay isn’t my burden to carry.
I’m no longer begging people to want me around. I don’t have to beg them to stay. I’m confident in who I’ve become. Knowing that at the end of the day, I am enough, exactly as I am.
A curly-haired beauty catches my eye from the opposite side of the pond, a sunflower in her hand, and a soft smile on her face.
I stand, meeting her halfway, “Hey, Lettie Girl.” My hands find the backs of her thighs as I pull her into me, wrapping her legs around my waist.
Her smile is blinding. The light sheen of pink lip gloss on her lips begs me to kiss it, so I do. And just like it’s been every time her lips have been on mine, it feels like coming home. “Missed you,” I whisper against her lips.
“I missed you, too.” She wiggles until I put her feet on the ground. “Did you have a good session?”
I nod, lacing our fingers together as I turn toward the car. She doesn’t move, though. Her feet stay rooted to the spot she’s in. I hike a brow and cradle her face with my free hand. “What’s wrong?”
She watches me for a second. There’s something in her gaze that looks a lot like awe. “Lettie, you’re worrying me.”
Her lips roll together as she pulls something out of the bag hanging from her shoulder. “I made you something.” She says, “Well, I’ve been working on it since you showed me the room with all my drawings at your house. I just finished it.”
My heart rate speeds up. She drew me something?
Am I getting to add to my collection for the first time in more than a decade?
My palms begin to sweat as she rummages through a sketch book.
“I redid it to look like how we do now.” She hands over a piece of paper that is so expertly done it looks like it’s been painted.
It’s the same pose of us in the sunflower field that she drew all those years ago.
Her long, curly brown hair lies over both shoulders, her eyes lined to perfection as they look into my own.
We spent more than enough time in that patch of flowers to feel as if we were there as I look at it.
The way our bodies would sink into the soft tangle of stems and warm dirt.
Her hand tangles in my hair as my fingers rest on her shoulder.
A touch that guides us closer to one another, like she wanted to capture the exact moment where our friendship turned into something deeper.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I fell in love with this woman in that field as a kid.
My eyes are focused on her, just like they always are.
Being beside her is where I feel safest. Like, it's okay to let everything else fade away.
I’m now sporting a white Tampa Bay Hawks shirt, instead of the old grey shirt I had on in the previous one.
My beard is neatly trimmed, and the chain that hangs from my neck is front and center.
But it’s the upward tug on both of our lips that has an unbelieving laugh bubbling out of me.
Looking at this drawing, the world seems to disappear once again, captured by a moment she somehow made eternal with nothing but lines on a page.
“Scarlett…” I whisper, my hand shaking as I hold on to my new favorite picture.
“Do you like it?” she asks, as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt.
How could she ever think I wouldn’t like it? Have I not done a good enough job at letting her know she could color a coloring book page and give it to me, and it would become one of my most prized possessions?
Anything made by her hands is something I’ll treasure with my own for the rest of time. “I love it, it’s stunning. You should be drawing for real. I’d pay millions for this.” I hold up the picture, and she nudges me with her shoulder.
“Oh, stop it.”
“I mean it, I would.”
“Good thing you’re sleeping with the artist,” she calls over her shoulder as she saunters toward the car.
It’s now that I realize I picked up something very important this morning on the way home from practice.
I beat her to the car, digging through my bag before I push her up against the door.
“How about ‘good thing you’re married to the artist.” Her eyes widen, only for her jaw to drop when the custom ring I had made for her catches the light of the sun.
“W-what?”
I wink, “You know the polite thing to do would be to say ‘yes.’”
Her arms loop around my neck, soon joined by her legs around my waist. “There’s no other option, Goldie. It’s you or no one.” She cries into my neck.
“Hmm…” I say as I sit her on the hood, reaching for her hand.
“Then I now would like to introduce you to the future, Mrs. Monroe.” I slide the ring on her finger, and she doesn’t even look at it. Her eyes are trained on me, lit up in a way I’ve never seen, as if she had chosen me long before I ever asked the question.
“Nothing has ever sounded better.” She leans forward and kisses me with fervor. Her hands slide into my hair, pulling at the hair tie that holds my bun in place. I straighten, causing her to let out a surprised yelp.
“Come on, wifey.” I chuckle as I pick her up again. “Let’s get you home before we get thrown in jail for public indecency.”
Her laugh is music to my ears. She lets me put her seatbelt on, kissing my cheek as I pull away. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
I cup her face, rubbing my thumb across her cheek. “I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you in a way that you’ll never feel like you have to earn it again. My love is the greatest gift I have the blessing of giving. And it’s yours, Scarlett. Only yours.”
“Even when we have little Monroe’s?” she asks shyly, her lashes fluttering as she tries to look away.
I quickly turn her face back to mine, “Don’t play with me. I’ll take you home, and we can start practicing. Screw it, I’ll put the seats down, we can start now.”
A smile so bright it feels like the sun splitting through the clouds tears across her face. “I will never respond to anything but ‘wifey’, ever again.” Her teeth lightly bite my ear as I pull away.
“As you wish, Wifey,” I chide as I close the door, walking around the front of the car with a renewed sense of purpose. A life that looks a heck of a lot brighter than it did all those months ago.
Scarlett Monroe. Yeah, I like that a hell of a lot.