by Bella Andre
"No. I was the one who abandoned you, and I was too busy to see what I was doing. You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."
"I did," she said. "We both did. And then we lost each other."
Just as she closed her eyes to try to gain control of her emotions, he stepped in closer and touched her hands with the utmost gentleness. "May I?"
She nodded, needing his comfort and wanting his love, despite the anger that had just erupted like a volcano. He gathered her against him as he said, "I was young and stupid and so in love with you that I believed our relationship could withstand anything. And it can, sweetheart. I truly believe that. But we need to both be in it together. Always a team. No matter what."
She fisted her hands in his shirt as he held her close and bared his soul, taking full responsibility for something that wasn't solely his fault. When he gazed deeply into her eyes, she felt her heart crack open. Forcing herself from the comfort of his arms was harder than almost anything she'd ever had to do, but she held her chin up high, pulled her shoulders back, and looked into his eyes with what she hoped was a self-assured gaze.
"I wish I could tell you that I could be a part of that team again. I wish I could be as sure about our past as you are--"
"The only thing I'm sure about," he interrupted, "is that I want you in my life. And that I'll do anything, be anything, change anything, to be with you again."
Ten years ago, five years ago, maybe even three years ago, she'd have softened at those words and taken them at face value. But she hadn't realized until this very moment how much all those years had strengthened her.
"I'm not a naive nineteen-year-old anymore. I know promises can be broken, and I have a whole life here that I love." All the anger had left her voice by now, but any tentative hope for what might come was tamped down by the unknown that hovered around them like a cloud. "Being with you is wonderful in so many ways, but it's also scary, and risky, and..." She crossed her arms, bracing to be strong--just as she had ten years ago. "I need time to process everything. I need time to think."
"I'm not a stupid kid anymore, Reese. I will prove that to you. I will win you back. Our love is too strong for this to be anything but true love. I screwed up royally--maybe we both did--but I'm not going to let our past ruin what could be the best part of the rest of our lives. I love you, and I don't expect you to tell me that back tonight. But I hope you'll continue to open yourself up to the possibility of us. I promised to always love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to be with you. And when I do, I'm praying that the only 'Dear Trent' note you'll want to write in the future will be to tell me how much you love me. Just as much as I love you."
Chapter Fifteen
STANDING ON THE dewy grass beside the resort the next morning, Reese pulled her hair back and secured it with an elastic band, thinking about Trent. Last night he hadn't tried to hide from his faults, or gloss over them. He'd simply been the same open, honest, and loving man she'd fallen in love with. The one she'd thought she'd lost forever ten years ago...
But today Trent wasn't the only one she was thinking about. Not when she knew she had to take a good, hard look at herself, too. She'd meant it when she'd told him she wished she'd been better able to stand on her own two feet during their marriage. And even though he'd told her she didn't have anything to apologize for, she knew that she did.
When they'd lived in New York City, Trent had never been able to take a full lunch hour, but he'd asked her more than once if she could come to his office to share a brown-bag lunch on a nearby park bench. At the time, those fifteen minutes didn't seem like they could make or break their relationship. But now she could see that even a quarter of an hour would have been enough to at least share a few kisses...and to remember how important they were to each other. It wasn't that she hadn't had the time--the truth was that she'd been scared. The subway had seemed daunting and unsafe, no matter how many times Trent assured her it wasn't. And the cabs drove so fast and crazy that she was always sure they'd crash.
A decade ago, he'd been way too busy building his career, and she'd been afraid of her own shadow. Ten years older and wiser, Reese was no longer that scared nineteen-year-old. Not even close. And hadn't Trent told her the same thing about himself? That he'd grown beyond the twenty-six-year-old she'd been married to?
Seabirds flew overhead, and Reese watched them swoop down toward the beach. With a long inhalation, she tried to push away her endlessly swirling thoughts about love and forgiveness for a while and turned her attention to the wall that would become her canvas. Being with Trent last night had caused a surge of inspiration that had driven her out of bed before the sun had even risen--the same kind of eruption of creativity she'd experienced when they'd first been together.
This morning, instead of seeing blank white walls before her, she saw flowers swaying in a breeze as it swept across the sandy beach and up the hill, like silent music that only the blooms could hear. She imagined verdant leaves and petals bursting with colors so vibrant and real that she could practically smell their sweet fragrances. She dragged her fingers along the rough surface, tracing the area where the picket fence would be painted. She imagined the grooves of the gray, aged wood, the dots of the nail heads, and the sprinkling of sand that she'd paint, showing how the Cape beaches touched everything around them.
The same way that Trent touched every part of her when he was near.
It had been easier to repress her feelings and deny them completely when he was living in New York all these years. But now, knowing he was staying in the resort--and that he was never more than a few minutes away--made it impossible to keep pretending that her feelings for him weren't hovering just under her skin, vying for release.
She hadn't planned to make love with him last night. She'd planned to take it slow, to let her feelings simmer as she explored whether or not they were capable of a more mature love.
But even as she thought it, she couldn't keep from rolling her eyes. It was yet another truth she had to face this morning--she couldn't have put the brakes on last night if her life had depended on it, simply because she had no self-control when it came to Trent. Being in his arms again, being that close to the man she'd always loved, hearing her name roll off his tongue--it was sensation overload.
The very best kind of sensation...
She lifted the wooden box of pencils he'd given her and slid her palm over the sleek finish. He knew her so well. To think that he'd bought it because he'd recognized the image she'd sketched made it even more special. She opened the lid, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her favorite photograph of the two of them.
She hadn't seen the photograph since returning home. She'd left it beside the note telling Trent she'd left him, hoping it would be enough to spur him into wanting to make things right between them. Her heart ached with the memory.
Ten years ago it hadn't been enough. What did it mean that he'd given it back to her now?
She lifted the photograph with a shaky hand and remembered the lovely afternoon at his parents' house when his mother had taken the photo.
They'd been unaware that Abby had taken the picture. Then again, when Trent and Reese were together, their love and connection had always overshadowed anything and everything. It didn't matter where they were or how much they loved the people they were with. Their love was boundless.
Or at least it had been for a little while.
The picture's edges were frayed, and her image was slightly faded, as if Trent had rubbed a thumb over it many, many times. In the photo, Trent was sitting on the grass, and Reese was sitting on his lap, facing him. He had one arm beneath her knees, holding her leg in place like he didn't want to take a chance of her running off. They were both smiling so broadly that her heart squeezed even now, as she remembered the feel of their foreheads touching. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still hear his voice when he whispered, I can't wait to marry you, Dandelion.
Goose bumps shivered up her limbs
with the memory. Dandelion. When he'd called her that last night, it had left her breathless. How could one word, one voice, one man, feel like everything?
She set the photo in the top of the box and tried to stop thinking about how unbelievably good, how perfectly right, it had felt to make love with him again. She could still feel the press of his thighs against hers, his big hands clutching her hips, and the heated look in his eyes...
She'd never needed words with Trent, because his eyes never lied. The day they'd gotten married, she'd known how much he loved her. Their first morning in New York City, when he'd forgotten to kiss her goodbye, she'd seen just how preoccupied he was with his new life and career. And then, just one week ago, she'd known the moment she'd looked into his eyes outside of Shelley's that he still loved her...and that he wanted them to go back to the way they used to be.
But was love enough? And even if it was, how could they possibly go back to the way they used to be when at least she was a totally different person now?
Reese picked up the sketch pad and, fortunately, despite her endlessly swirling thoughts and questions, it didn't take long for her to become absorbed in defining the elements in her sketch. Short, continuous strokes gave way to M-strokes, changing direction constantly to create grass in motion, as if the wind were blowing. Her hands moved without thought, creating jagged lines for bushes and shorter, more refined strokes for the roof of the cottage behind the gardens.
The flowers represented new life, and the stable cottages anchored each side of the drawing, giving way to the fluid movements of the bay, which was watched over by the lighthouse in the distance. The Rockwells wanted the mural to represent the island and the community, and this would be an ideal representation, the perfect blend of warmth and promise.
In her mind, she couldn't help but insert herself and Trent into the picture, hand in hand as they recited their vows. I promise to always love you. Forever.
Forever meant taking all that love and desire that brought a couple together and working it like clay. Re-forming it as their lives evolved, changing shape, sometimes softening, other times remaining slightly rigid, but in the end bound together as one solid unit.
They'd both learned the hard way that forever took more than words. It took effort and follow through, and that's exactly where they'd fallen apart. But now, every time she saw him, every time she heard his voice or felt his touch, every time she thought of him, it pushed the painful memories of their separation a little further away...and gave her hope.
Hope that somehow managed to feel fragile and beautiful, frightening and thrilling, all at the same time.
*
TRENT SET THE bag of groceries he'd spirited away from the resort kitchen on the counter of his suite, and as he washed his hands, he reflected on the fact that after spending a decade trying to push thoughts of Reese away so that he wouldn't have to face all the hurt he'd caused, she'd been there with him the whole time. Always on his mind and in his heart.
Work had been a way to self-medicate the ache of losing her. Working even more hours after she left had given him little time alone in the apartment they'd once shared. But he'd still missed her every minute of every day, no matter how hard he'd worked to tell himself that a practical guy like him should have known better than to let his heart get the best of him.
As he tossed banana slices, pineapple chunks, a handful of blueberries, and a bunch of fresh baby spinach into the blender, he thought about the things he and Reese had said to each other last night. She'd been right to feel angry about how badly he'd blown it. But even though the pain of losing her had left him feeling raw and shredded to pieces, he'd never been angry with her. He'd been hurt. And he'd felt guilty. Because Reese had left everything she'd known and loved behind, and he'd let her down.
Trent scooped toasted wheat germ and sprinkled it into the blender, then measured the coconut water and honey and added them to the mix, as well. This was Reese's favorite smoothie, Passion and Glory. After he finished blending the ingredients, Trent poured it into a large cup, then left his suite and went in search of her. Knowing Reese, she was already working on the mural. He'd always loved how inspired she was and how much her art fulfilled her.
Reese turned as he came around the corner. Thankfully, the instant their eyes met, her lips curved up in a sweet smile. She was radiant in her knit cap, blond tendrils framing her beautiful face. She had the most beautiful legs, long and lean, beneath her jeans.
"You're beautiful," Trent said as he came to her side. Instinct--and the same desperate need he always felt when she was near--brought his lips to her cheek.
Despite the emotional upheaval they'd both experienced last night, she didn't stiffen against his touch, which was a huge relief. But he could tell she was nervous by the way she was nibbling on her lower lip. Hell, his heart was going a mile a minute.
"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied as she took in his running shorts and T-shirt. "Are you just coming back from your run?"
"No. I haven't gone yet." He handed her the cup. "I made you a Passion and Glory smoothie. I even added the toasted wheat germ you love."
"You remembered how to make it after all these years?"
He smiled, knowing his admission would make him seem like he'd been pining over her for a decade, which until the last few days, he hadn't realized was true. "Actually, I usually make them on the weekends for myself. They were a hard habit to break." Just like you.
"Thank you." She took a sip and closed her eyes. "Mm. That is delicious. I haven't had one since... In a long time."
"Because it reminded you of us?"
When she nodded, Trent hated knowing she'd gone without something she loved because of him. He stepped in closer. "I'm so sorry about last night. Not that we made love--you know I love being close to you, and I wouldn't give back those moments with you in my arms for anything--but I know it was too soon."
"It wasn't," she said quickly, surprising him with both her words and the warmth of her hand over his. "I wanted you just as much as you wanted me. And I refuse to regret what happened last night. It's just that this is all a lot to take in. But..."
She paused to try to gather her thoughts, and his heart hammered even faster as he waited for her to finish. Only, she didn't finish it with words. Instead, she put down the cup, lifted her hands to his face, and gave him a kiss that was sweet and seductive all at once.
"Thank you for the smoothie, Trent. Have a good day working at the resort."
He couldn't quite figure out how to form words as he stepped away, walking backward so that he could hold the image of her in his mind for as long as possible. He blew her a kiss and jogged away with a big grin.
Despite the incredible kiss she'd just given him, he knew the road ahead likely wouldn't be completely smooth. But nothing in life that mattered was easy. He'd never failed at a damn thing besides his marriage--the one and only thing that mattered.
What he'd felt when he was making love with Reese last night--and what he saw in her eyes every time they were together--was pure, unadulterated love, whether she was fully ready to accept it or not.
He believed in them, and hopefully, in time, she would, too.
And until then, he prayed there would be lots and lots more kisses, just like the one she'd given him today.
*
REESE COULDN'T STOP smiling as she drove to her gallery. Once inside, she went directly to her workspace and, without second-guessing herself, tacked the picture of her and Trent to her easel. For the next few hours, while she wasn't able to concentrate on any one thing for too long, every time she saw the picture, joy bubbled up inside of her.
"What is with you today?" Jocelyn asked as Reese organized a new display of paintings for a second time. "It's like you're on speed."
I'm on a new drug called Trent. Reese stopped in her tracks with the thought and bit her lower lip to keep the words from escaping. Especially since Trent wasn't actually new, was he? More like she was back on
an old drug that was suddenly more addictive than ever.
"I just..." Need to stop thinking about how good it felt to be with him last night--and how much I loved kissing him again this morning.
"I haven't seen you like this since--" Jocelyn's eyes grew huge. "Oh my God, you slept with him! Did you at least make it out of your apartment this time?"
"Of course we did." She purposefully left off the just barely part of the sentence.
"Well," Jocelyn said in her own defense, "considering we're talking about the man you had sex with in the bathroom of the movie theater, in the car by the pond, behind the bushes in the park--"
"Boulders! They were boulders, not bushes!" Why had she ever shared those details with her friend? Because I was bursting with excitement. Only now I'm older. More mature. I've lasted--she glanced at the clock--a few hours without gushing like a schoolgirl.
"Whatever." Jocelyn brushed her clarifications aside. "Just tell me one thing. Am I allowed to be excited for you, or do you want me to tell you to slow down?"
"Honestly," Reese said as she forced herself to sit like a normal person in a chair even though her insides were still bouncing all around, "I don't know what I want or how you can help. I only know that the minute we kissed, it was like all those years never happened. We're still so in sync with each other. We're still so..."
"Mushy. Sappy." Jocelyn smiled. "And, obviously, still deeply in love with each other." When Reese's eyes went wide at that statement, her friend said, "I knew it the second I saw the picture on your easel. He's back in your heart, isn't he?"
"You look as conflicted as I am about it," Reese said. "Your eyebrows are all pinched together and your jaw is tight. You're the one who's supposed to have the clear head in this."
"You're my best friend in the whole world, and you know I want you to be totally happy. If Trent makes you happy, that's wonderful, but..." Jocelyn paused before saying, "This is very familiar. What if after six months he's right back to working a hundred hours a week and I have to mop up your tears again?"