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The bubble of excitement that had enveloped me for the past few hours started to deflate, and I took a deep breath.
I’d done it. Hosted an exhibition. Been a success, and on my own merit. I’d never forget tonight.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said at the entrance. “We’re closing now. You can come back tomorrow.”
“Is Steph here? Can I see her for a minute? Please?”
Dean?
I ran the short distance to the door, and arrived as Elizabeth turned to speak to me. “It’s okay,” I said to her. “I’ve got this.”
She went back inside and left me with Dean. The man I waited for all night.
He stood there, illuminated by the streetlights, his face half in shadow. His cheeks were covered in the makings of a rough beard, and without thinking I scraped my fingertips through it.
He groaned, and then grabbed my hand, to press the palm against his fuzzy cheek. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” He sounded hoarse.
Emotions clogged my throat, and I couldn’t speak. I stared at him, while my mind bounced from one question to another. “Where were you?” I blurted out, like a petulant child.
He closed his eyes, and then took a step closer, moving into my space. “I didn’t think I could make it, but I tried. Is it too late?”
Did he mean too late for the exhibition or for us? I searched his face and saw the hope in his eyes. He looked tired and rumpled, and I longed to have him wrap his arms around me. I wanted him to love me.
There were still a couple of people inside, cleaning up. Elizabeth wouldn’t begrudge me keeping the place open a little longer. “Do you want to see it? Now?” I asked.
“Yes. I’d love to.”
I felt a smile begin at his words. “Come in, then.” I dropped my hand from his face and turned on my heel. He wasn’t forgiven yet, and there was no guarantee he would be, but we had to start somewhere. This was as good a place as any.
The door clunked shut behind me, and I paused on the threshold of the main gallery. Nerves bubbled inside. In some ways, this was worse than showing my work to strangers. Dean knew me and understood what this represented. I tried to see it through his eyes. The lighting was inspired, and now the crowd had left, the sound system in the background was haunting.
I stretched out a hand to him, and he grabbed it and tangled our fingers together.
“What do you think?” I kept my voice low.
“I’m blown away. I knew it’d be good, but this... This is like walking into a charity shop and finding an original copy of a first edition Marvel comic, in pristine condition. It’s perfect, little sandy girl.” He squeezed my hand. “You’re perfect.”
I felt the squeeze in my heart. If he kept saying stuff like that, I’d be tumbling down the rabbit hole again without a thought. I deserved better.
“Just stand and look and feel,” I said, finding my tongue. “Listen to the gulls calling overhead and the splash of the ocean in the distance. The lights are simulating the sunset.”
“I saw some of these first hand, and they were amazing then, but like this? Yeah. It’s official. Mind is blown. You’re going places, Steph.”
“Elizabeth asked me if I’d like to do another exhibition. Already.”
“She recognises how talented you are. I hope you said yes.”
I shrugged. “I can’t remember what I said. I was too stunned.”
“I guess the stickers are for sales?”
“Yes.”
“That’s most of them.”
I followed his gaze to the sea of orange dots. “Damn,” I whispered. “Look at that.”
My commission on five pieces would cover the costs I incurred. Ten sales would give me enough to pay for the next exhibition. Without counting, I saw at least fifteen, maybe more. “Holy shit. I may be able to pay my father back.”
“Or fix your car.”
“That too.”
I led Dean around the rooms, pausing for him to examine each print. He was silent for the most part, but he scrutinised them in detail. I loved watching the emotions playing across his face. Right now, this was magic. I was happy, and he was here, with me. I wanted to cling onto this feeling and lock it away to think about in the future. We had a difficult conversation waiting in the wings, but for the moment I could ignore that.
We did a complete circuit of the exhibits, and that was when Elizabeth caught up with us. “I hate to interrupt, but I’d like to go home tonight. Have you finished? Don’t forget those gorgeous flowers.”
“I won’t. And thank you again. For everything.”
She gave me a hug. “I can surf on your coattails. They’ll be booking you in the city soon. The world is truly going to be your oyster.”
“I’m quite happy with this little clam shell.”
She laughed. “I’ll remind you of this conversation in a couple of years. Now take your hound and go home.”
I snapped my fingers for King to join me, and he trotted to my side, tongue lolling in a happy doggy grin.
“Can I give you a ride home?” asked Dean.
“My car is here.”
He held my hand. “Can you leave it here, and I’ll bring you back to pick it up tomorrow?”
Did I want to break the spell tonight, or bask in the afterglow for a few more hours? I might as well rip off the Band-Aid in one go, tomorrow.
“Okay.”
I gathered my things together, took one last look at the gallery before Elizabeth cut the lights, and then followed Dean to his car. He carried the basket of blooms in his free hand.
“Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re beautiful.”
“So are you. Seeing you here tonight, it was like you were a different person. You were in your element, babe. It was fucking awesome to see you like that.”
I wanted to clap my hands to my burning cheeks. “Oh, shush. I don’t take compliments well.” And my heart turned to mush when he called me babe.
Once we were in his car with the engine on, Dean looked at me. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Such a loaded question. It’d be easy to say yes, to fall into bed with him and have some more out-of-this-world sex. Too easy. Band-Aid time.
“I’m going to make the sensible decision this time, and say no. I want us to talk. We can do it here, or sitting outside my place. That’s all I’m offering at the moment.”
Dean gazed at me for the longest time, but then nodded. “Yep. Whichever you prefer.”
“Here is fine.” I astonished myself sometimes. Where did this confident Steph come from? One evening of wearing another skin, and I turned into a different person?
“Okay. I had some bad news,” said Dean, his gaze never leaving my face. “Remember I told you about Lisa? Hal’s wife?”
I nodded.
“She... She took a fucking overdose. Belle called me, and I had to go. I had to be with her—Lisa.” He scrubbed both hands across his face. “You warned me those drugs can get worse before they get better, and you were right.”
I hated to see him in pain. I squeezed his thigh. “I’m sorry. Did they find her in time?”
“Yes, thank God. I warned her family and our friends, and they made sure to watch her. I still can’t believe she tried to kill herself. It’s unreal.”
“It’s the drugs that do it. They magnify every anxiety, and sometimes it feels impossible to breathe. The doctors can change her meds and figure out what she needs. They can help her, Dean.”
“Thanks to you,” he said. “If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known. We might have been burying her this week. It’s a sobering thought.”
There was still something I had to know. “I understand you’ve been stressed and scared about Lisa, but why did you drop off the face of the earth, Dean? You’ve been gone for days. You sent me one text before today. One.”
Now it was time to ask the hard question, my courage was flickering like a candle in a draughty room. “I need to know. Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”