WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

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WE ARE ONE: Volume Two Page 183

by Jewel, Bella


  Trent pushed his shoulders back. “Your father ditched you before you were born, then mine, the worthless prick, cut and run, too.” His dark eyes were filled with hatred. “What makes you think any man will stick around for you?”

  I threw my arms in the air. “Oh my God. This again? You’re so filled with hate, you can’t see beyond it.” I narrowed my eyes and took another step forward. “I feel sorry for you, Trent. You’re going to spend the rest of your days blaming him for your small life.”

  Pushing my mother aside, he grabbed me by the upper arm, slammed me into the wall, then slapped me hard across my cheek. His mouth was only an inch from mine. “You’ve always been a spiteful little bitch,” he whispered.

  Taking a step back, he raised his fist, but there was no way I was going to let him hit me. Channelling all my resentment, anger, and frustration, I slammed my knee into his groin. Completely blindsided, he crumpled to the floor, writhing in agony.

  “Enough, Trent,” I said with conviction. “Enough.”

  I picked up my bags and turned to my mother. “I’m staying in town with Mereki. I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

  As I pushed past them, Trent whipped his hand out and gripped me around the ankle. “You’ll pay for this.”

  I yanked my leg away and walked out the door without so much as a backward glance.

  Chapter 7

  Ki opened the door, pulled me in close and I felt the tension seep from my shoulders.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I said, smiling as my lips touched his.

  “What happened?” he asked, touching my cheek that must’ve still been red.

  “Mum and Trent were being themselves.” I shrugged. “But I gave better than I got.”

  Ki took a step back and ran his hands through his hair. “Antagonising Trent is playing with fire, Emerson.”

  “I handled it.”

  He shook his head. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside the house.

  “Are your parents home?” I asked.

  “Nope. Mum is on the road for the next few days, and Dad is on night shift. We’re alone tonight.”

  I was overjoyed. As much as I loved his parents and how they treated me like I was part of their family, the idea of having a whole night to spend together alone was exciting.

  “Mum left a pasta bake for dinner,” Ki said, pulling me towards the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

  My stomach growled in response when the delicious smell of bacon and cheese filled my nostrils. “I love your Mum.”

  Once settled in front of the TV, I flicked channels until I found a Megastructures documentary. It was Ki’s favourite show, and I loved sharing that with him.

  “Are you looking forward to the art show tomorrow?” he asked as the closing credits came up.

  “Of course I am,” I replied. “It’s my dream to be part of it one day. Imagine if my art travelled around the country.”

  “When, not if,” he corrected with a kiss on my forehead.

  After we’d cleaned up, we turned on a movie but didn’t see much of it. Making out on the couch was far more entertaining. It was almost midnight when we climbed into bed and lay on our sides facing each other.

  “This feels so right,” Ki whispered. He stroked my cheek and pushed the loose hair behind my ear. “I can’t wait until we can have our own place together.”

  Leaning forward, I placed my lips on his. The kiss deepened, and he groaned when I allowed his tongue entry to my mouth. Our pyjamas were discarded urgently, but we made love as if we had all the time in the world. As far as we were concerned, we did.

  Once it was over, we lay facing each other, and I whispered the words I knew to be true. “You’ll never leave me.”

  “Never ever.”

  The art gallery in our town managed to secure a few travelling exhibitions every year, but this one was the most prestigious they’d ever had. It originated in the city, and it was a huge coup that the curator had managed to secure a slot on its itinerary.

  “I love seeing you so happy,” Ki said, grinning broadly as we walked through the front door. Art was not his thing at all, but he was supporting my passion in the same way I fished and watched engineering documentaries.

  Elated, I darted from one display to the next. It was overwhelming and inspiring seeing so much beautiful art in so many different forms.

  “What on earth is this about?” he asked, pointing at the first in a series of installations.

  “These are the winners of a state-wide competition,” I said. “Light is the theme, and there were no rules or restrictions other than the overall size.”

  He cocked his head to the side, perhaps trying to make sense of the odd structure of lightbulbs, knotted ropes, and coat hangers. “I think it looks like some kind of torture device.”

  I chuckled. “Art is art. It’s completely subjective. Who the hell knows what the artist is trying to convey here? Perhaps he doesn’t even know himself. But someone might see something that speaks to them.”

  Ki shrugged, but I knew he was intrigued enough to move onto the next installation. It was a series of glass blocks stacked unevenly. Some towers were only three blocks high while others were at least ten blocks above our heads. Each block was lit from within, and the colour changed at seemingly random intervals.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said after we’d stood in silence for several minutes. “It’s hypnotic.”

  “What makes you happy, Emerson?” Ki asked.

  I turned my head and found his gaze still fixed on the art. “Why?”

  “When I look at this installation, I think about happiness.”

  I looked again at the colourful blocks and wondered what he was seeing that I was not. I cocked my head to the side and tried to look at it from a different angle.

  “You’re responsible for your own life and your own happiness, right?”

  I nodded.

  “So let’s say the blocks each represent different people or things in your life.”

  I nodded again, starting to see where he was going with this.

  “If you stack your life tower with things that make you happy, your life will be filled with colour and light, but if you ignore your passions or fail to invest in the right things or the right people, your life will be flat and dull. You’ll live in the shadows.”

  Taking hold of his hand, I squeezed. “You’re the best person I know, Mereki, and you make me so incredibly happy.” I glanced at the towers of light. “As long as we’re together, I’ll smile forever.”

  We moved across the room to a group of glass cabinets displaying some very expensive-looking jewellery. The first one housed a ring with an enormous pink diamond surrounded by smaller ones. The necklace next to it was breathtaking, too, and I could only imagine its worth.

  “I’d love to buy you something like this one day,” Ki said.

  I shrugged. “I don’t need expensive trinkets, Ki.”

  “I know you don’t need them,” he replied, meeting my gaze. “Nobody needs them, but they would look so beautiful on you, and I’d like to think one day I could be the one to put them there.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m just going to pop out for a smoke. Will you be alright for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.”

  I don’t know why I continued staring at the jewellery. It was, of course, very beautiful, but I meant what I’d said. I couldn’t imagine ever wearing anything like that.

  “Like what you see?”

  I snapped my head around at the sound of Jacob’s voice.

  “Hello, Emerson.” He moved too close to me.

  “Leave me alone, Jacob,” I replied, shuffling a few inches away.

  He waved his hand over the cabinet. “I can show you jewellery like this in our store anytime you like.” His smug expression made my skin crawl.

  “No thanks.”

  His smile faltered. “A girl as pretty as you deserves pretty things.” He turned to face me and picked up my hands. �
��If you were mine . . .”

  I cut him off. “I’ll never be yours,” I said, ripping my hands from his and taking a step back.

  His eyes narrowed. “Your loss.”

  Mereki moved in next to me and put a protective arm around my shoulders. “Get outta here, Smith.”

  “I’ll see you later, Emerson,” Jacob said, winking, before slithering away like the snake he was.

  “Are you okay?” Ki asked, clenching his fists.

  “I’m fine, babe.” I took his hand and led him to the other side of the room. “I want to show you this painting over here.”

  We spent another hour in the gallery before heading down to the river. I was so inspired by the art show that I managed to finish my school project weeks before it was due.

  Chapter 8

  My final exam was held on my eighteenth birthday—November fifteenth. Ki finished a few days before me, and it had been torture studying when freedom was so close.

  “Happy birthday, baby,” Ki said when I walked out of the school hall. He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head. “How did you do?”

  “Nailed it,” I replied, kissing him properly. “We survived.”

  “We did, and our life is only just beginning.”

  I reached for his hand and kissed his palm.

  As we approached our clearing by the river, thousands of happy childhood memories flooded my mind. Ki wrapped an arm around me and covered my eyes with his other hand.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  He didn’t say anything, but nudged my back to keep me moving. After a few short steps, he stopped me.

  “Open your eyes,” he said, dropping his hand.

  My hands whipped up to cover my mouth. “Oh my God.” When I met his eyes, they were so full of love, I thought I might die. He’d laid out the words ‘Happy Birthday’ in the ground using pebbles and a few sticks.

  “I didn’t have enough time to do the whole thing with pebbles,” he said, chuckling.

  “I love it.”

  “I actually thought about proposing, you know.”

  “Really?” I felt a small pang of disappointment that he hadn’t, but I shook it off.

  “I had a speech planned and everything.”

  “Tell me,” I said. “I’d like to hear it.”

  “I plan to use it one day though.”

  “I don’t care.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes and knew he couldn’t refuse. “Please.”

  He shook his head. “Okay, fine.” Taking a deep breath, he began. “My Emerson. My best friend and the love of my life. You will always be the most important person to me, and I want to be your husband more than I want anything in this world.”

  A few happy tears slipped down my cheeks, and my smile was splitting my face in two.

  “I was going to write ‘Marry me’ or ‘Will you marry me?’ with pebbles but went with ‘Happy Birthday’ instead.”

  I swooned even though the proposal wasn’t actually happening.

  “I promise to always love you in this life and the next.”

  “In this life and the next.” I repeated his words, staring up into the eyes of the most wonderful person to ever grace this planet. I wanted to be his wife more than I wanted anything.

  “Without breaking eye contact, I was going to slip a ring on your wedding finger, but you wouldn’t have looked at it because you don’t care about expensive trinkets.”

  I smiled. “I’d have said yes.”

  A grin split his face. “Happy birthday, baby,” he said and then lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my wedding finger where his ring would one day sit. “In this world and the next.”

  I looked up, questioning him with my eyes.

  “That’s what I will have engraved on your ring. I love you in this world and the next.”

  “You’re killing me, Ki. When did you become such a romantic?”

  “I guess you bring it out in me.” He chuckled, then grabbed something from his back pocket. “Here is something I actually did buy you for your birthday.”

  He handed me a flyer for the monthly market held in town. “You bought me the markets?” I asked, laughing.

  “No,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I rented a stall so you can sell your art there this Saturday.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  “You think it’s good enough to sell?”

  He cupped my face with his palms. “Your drawings are amazing, and you’re going to be a famous artist one day, Emerson.”

  I laughed but quietly revelled in his unwavering belief in me.

  “Well, as long as you come with me, thank you. I’m excited to give it a shot.”

  “Of course I’ll be there.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening soaking up the beauty of our special place. I was going to miss it, but I knew that I’d always be happy as long as Mereki was by my side.

  “I wonder how many hours I’ve spent fishing here,” he said out of the blue.

  I looked up and found him staring out towards the river. “Thousands, I guess.” I didn’t even bother trying to calculate. “Same amount as I spent pushing stones into the ground or sketching.”

  He turned and looked at me, and I was struck by how mature he now looked compared to when we were young kids. His black hair had grown out a bit, but it was still shorter than it had been when we met. We’d both been scrawny kids, but he’d grown into the striking man in front of me with muscular arms and broad shoulders who completely owned my heart.

  “I’m going to miss this place,” he said.

  “We can come back whenever we want.”

  He walked over, sat behind me, and wrapped me in his arms. We were quiet for a few moments, staring at the slow-moving water. “I’m happy wherever you are, but this place just feels safe, and it makes me feel that anything is possible.”

  I leaned back into him. “Life around us can change as much as it wants. As long as we have each other, we’re invincible. Nothing can touch what we have right here.” I glanced up at the setting sun, drawn to its fading light. “We take the safety of this place wherever we go.”

  Mereki whispered in my ear, “I want to hold on to this feeling forever.”

  “As long as you hold onto me forever, too.”

  Chapter 9

  My stall was set up with the drawings I was trying to sell. “They’re absolutely incredible,” Mereki said. “You’re so talented.”

  Pride swelled in my heart. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him briefly on the lips. “For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. I want everyone to know how talented my beautiful girlfriend is.” He glanced at the table. “You haven’t put your self-portrait out for sale. Why?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to part with it. It’s too personal.”

  “You’re a bit crazy. You get that, right?”

  I chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a little crazy.” I winked at him as two women stopped in front of my table.

  “Hello,” I said, cheerily.

  They both nodded at me, then went back to perusing my art. It was a truly sickening feeling having strangers scrutinise my work, and I was relieved I didn’t put my most personal piece on display. Without saying anything, they moved on.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ki said, putting his arm around my shoulders. “There’ll be others with better taste.”

  “I think you might be a touch biased.”

  “You might be right about that. I don’t have a clue about art, but I like yours, and isn’t that what you told me art is all about? Liking what you see?”

  “Yes, but I’m going to need more than just my boyfriend to like what they see if I’m going to sell anything.”

  After having countless people reject my work and move on, the doubt that had been creeping in started to crush me. There had been a few compliments from the kinder patrons, but no sales. The two stallholders on either side of
me started packing up because they’d sold out of their candles and honey. I could see the stage being erected for the live music that would be starting up soon, and the beer tent had lines of thirsty people getting ready for the evening entertainment to kick off.

  “Shall we start packing up?” I asked Ki.

  My heart sank when Jacob approached my table. Of all the people in this town, Jacob was the one I least wanted to see. At least Trent wasn’t with him. That was a small mercy.

  “Roaring trade, I see?” he asked, snickering.

  “Get lost, Jacob,” Ki demanded.

  Jacob held up his hands as if under arrest. “Hey. I’m just here checking out Emerson’s art, and I have to say, it’s pretty pathetic.” With a chuckle, he turned and sauntered away.

  His words cut deep even though I cared little for his opinion. This was my dream, and I’d faced a day of rejection.

  “Hello.” An older lady who looked like the stereotypical grandma in the American movies I’d watched appeared at my table. She had light grey hair pulled back into a low bun, and she smiled at Mereki and me with nothing but warmth.

  “Hello,” I said, putting on my happy face.

  “Are these yours?” she asked, leaning forward to get a closer look.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Can you tell me a bit about them?”

  Pushing back my shoulders, I took a deep breath. “I draw the way I feel about the things I see,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster. It was the best way I could think of to describe my art. I picked up one of my drawings. “This one was inspired by the river, but I hope I’ve conveyed the peace it brings me watching my boyfriend fishing there.”

  She pushed her glasses farther up her nose and brought the drawing close to her eyes. Judging by the way she studied it, I figured she must be an expert. Her approval would mean so much, and I knew what I wanted to do. With Jacob’s cutting words rattling around in my head, I reached down for my bag, pulled the sketchpad out, turned to my self-portrait and held it in my shaking hands.

 

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