All The Pieces (Pieces of Lies 3) (31 page)

I had also branched out into photography. My artistic eye was useful in taking snapshots of the island and lifestyle that proved to be big sellers at my studio. The shots were my bread and butter but also gave me the money and time I needed to paint how I wanted to paint with my canvases. It took a lot of time to reach such nirvana in my life, but I had, and it was here on this tiny island away from the Lappell and my Dad’s world. My father had been right to do this, even if it had come with a devastating loss.

“So, as I was saying outside,” Sophie said strolling back to the storeroom where I had started unpacking a few boxes of supplies that arrived the day before. “Me and Chantal went to Turbo last night, and Rick, you know Rick the bouncer, yeah well, he took us up to the club’s balcony, and we met the hottest guys who bought us drinks all night long. I think they said they were from Sweden or Denmark, or someplace like that...” Sophie had taken a seat on one of the work benches, watching me unpack.

“Uh huh,” I said, putting some brushes into a set of high-set wall cupboards.

 “Seriously these guys Nina, were
really
good-looking. Like
Abercrombie & Fitch
good- looking.” I could hear her legs swinging as she spoke, and the excitement in her voice from still being high on her night out. “You should have been there Nina. I know you say you don’t like to go out, but you are a smoking-hot single mother. You could walk into a room and have any guy you want. You put all us ladies here on the island to shame. And I know that these guys would have been your type. They are every girl’s type.” I walked back to the box and pulled out a few more cartons.“I think their names were Ricardo and Wyatt. Or maybe it was Roberto and Waylan. I can’t remember. The point is, you should have been there. It’s time we get you back out into the mix. Make yourself open for business, if you know what I mean.”

I had to laugh at Sophie. The girl had a great eye for all things art and art related, but when it came to the opposite sex, Sophie preferred to ‘love ’em and leave ’em’. I couldn’t count on my fingers how many times Sophie had been in and out of love this month alone.

“Look Soph, I know you worry about me being by myself to raise James, but I’m fine, really. I have had my fair share of loves in my life. I just didn’t get the ‘happily ever after’ part of the love equation, and that’s okay because I have James. And James is all I need.” I picked up a can of paint from the box, “Oh and my painting too. I have that as well.”

“Yeah, well your paintings should be in a gallery somewhere like in London or New York. They are truly remarkable, and I’m not just saying that Nina. You know I don’t kiss ass.” Sophie leant up against the hallway frame leading into the front of the shop, her head tilted up like she was daydreaming. “Boy, wouldn’t it be awesome to have a show in a place like New York one day? Like with photographers and famous people checking out your work...”

I smiled at the memory from my old life. “It’s a nice dream Sophie.”

“Hmmm, yes. It is. You know what else is a nice dream? Those two hot guys from the club last night. I mean it Nina, you should come with me and Chantal next time, we’ll...”

Ding, Ding, Ding.

The little bell over my studio front door signaled someone had walked into the shop. I turned to Sophie and said, “Can you get that please?” I looked down to my arms filled with tubes of paint, “My hands are full.” Sophie spun on her feet and charged out to the front of the shop to see if she could assist the customer, who was probably a tourist. I knew one of the ferries was scheduled to dock early that day.

With Sophie not filling my mind with her constant chatter, I couldn’t help but drift back to thoughts on love. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible with work and James on the island so I wouldn’t be thinking about something I couldn’t have, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. He still managed to find a way into my mind like his presence was all around me. And it wasn’t the memory of Josh, or the idea of Samuel that still bubbled in my heart, but the guy who I had to let go over and over again. I don’t know how many times events in Morewell, New York and London played out in my head about would could have been. How Delia’s story from the
Princess Bride
invaded my dreams. How the color of the sea reminded me of those eyes I met at a party once, in front of a painting, and made me believe that instant true love could exist. And I wasn’t naive, and it wasn’t all in my head. It had been a brief time in my life, but it had been real. And somewhere in the future, or maybe even in my next life, it might be real again.

I was thankful for Sophie’s presence back in the storeroom because it stopped my mind from wandering further. She reappeared with an annoyed look on her face. “So...it’s not a tourist, but some guy who has just moved to the island. He’s working in marketing or accounts or something boring like that for one of the resorts and he is looking to decorate his house. He said he is very interested in your canvas pieces and wants to talk to the artist and not the shop girl. I told this guy, who looks like a Ken doll I might add, that I know everything about the artist and can answer any questions he might have, but he insists on speaking to you. I think you have another real fan of your work Nina. Not that I blame the guy.”

I was putting away cans of paint powder, and rolls of string. “That’s fine Sophie. I’m happy to talk to him. Let him know I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him you are on your way...” She turned but swung around trying to get my attention again.

“Yes?” I asked her.

“Well he did ask me one weird question which I thought was really strange.”

“What was that?”

“He asked me if the artist paints on the canvas naked. I mean what kind of freak would ask such a strange question? I just looked at him like he was fucking crazy. You don’t paint naked. What would give him such an idea? It’s absurd, it’s — Nina what’s wrong?”

I had dropped the contents in my arms onto the ground, floored at what was coming out of Sophie’s mouth. I had ignored the jolt I had earlier from somewhere deep within me, but I felt it now. The pull. His presence.

I bolted from the storeroom down to the front of the shop, slowing to a stop as I reached the front counter. As I moved closer, I could see his back. He was turned and slightly hunched over and was clutching the small photo of James I kept near the cash register. I watched him as I neared, moving as if I was floating on a cloud. He was holding the frame tightly as he studied his face. I couldn’t help but visualize the words ‘
as you wish’
and the image of
Westley
in my head.

I came up behind him, not sure how to begin or what to say. Were words enough for this moment? Perhaps I should say nothing at all. The impact of silence and seeing each other again would be enough. Was it enough?

I inched closer, able to smell his cologne which had that earthy manly smell. He was in black slacks and a long-sleeved pale blue business shirt. I was so close I could reach out and touch his shoulder, but I held off, not entirely confident that my touch would be welcomed. I wasn’t even sure he’d be happy to see me.

Seconds passed, then minutes, and I still had not been able to say or do anything. If this was some kind of dream, I didn’t want to wake up. I even closed my eyes, hoping I could contain the moment as long as I could.

Then, as if he knew I was there all along, he spoke. “He is beautiful.” The sound of his voice filled me with relief, sadness, happiness and something else; guilt.

I walked around and stood in front of him, seeing those eyes again for the first time in a year.

‘Brown eyes meeting blue’ —That would have been the name of our story if someone had written one.

“He looks like his Dad,” I said softly, speaking slowly, taking in his whole face. “Especially his eyes.”

I closed my eyes for a second and then opened them to his crystal blue ones, staring into me, reaching into my soul, and bringing out something I had long believed would never be real for me again. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation, no regret. His being here looked like it was all he wanted and all he needed. He even looked stronger than before, like he had prepared for this moment every day since the day I left in that car. He stepped forward, without even asking if he could get close, and ran his finger along my jaw, slipping it into my hair. His touch instantly filled me with a sense of comfort from the pain of the loss of love in my life. I felt two things in his touch. Joy to see him here in front of me, and guilt for feeling that joy. I didn’t know what to do with the inner conflict of emotion.

“But how...” I spoke.

“Your Dad,” he said.

“But why...?” I asked.

“For love,” he said. He moved closer. “My life has been nothing without you in it. I’ve been empty without you. Just...incomplete.” He whispered into my ear now. “You knew I would come. You knew it the day you left.” I closed my eyes as he cupped my cheek, relishing in the swirling of senses inside my heart. I did hope, but I never assumed. He whispered some more. “I would have come sooner, but I needed to tie up loose ends, make sure it was safe, get your father’s permission and...give you time.”

Did I deserve this? Did I deserve one of the greatest loves in my life to give up his world for me?

“You moved here? But your work, your family…Why? Why would you leave that life behind?”

“Don’t feel guilty Norah. I see your heart constricting. You think you don’t deserve this, but you do. You really do. You’ve lost your mother, your life with your father and friends, and you lost Josh. Don’t deny yourself this just because you don’t believe it should be yours. He would want this for you. He would be happy for you.”

I swallowed, wanting to give in, wanting nothing more than to believe that what he was saying was true. That I would have Josh’s blessing to move on, to have this love. But I wasn’t sure. I still felt uncertain that I could accept this. I couldn’t believe that I might get everything I’d always wanted. That I could get a happily ever after.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I said. “I don’t know if I can ever move on. If I can accept it. If I’m strong enough.”

He nodded, like he knew it would not have been this simple but still looking confident and sure all the same. “Then I’ll wait for you. Right here on this island until you are ready. I’m not going anywhere, so we have all the time in the world.”

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t be happening.

How on earth was this happening?

I looked up into his eyes that were filled with so much love that it appeared like it was never going to change. Like it was the most certain thing in the world.

“But why?” I breathed, moving closer, wanting to hug him and be in his embrace, just so I could feel his arms around me. To feel his certainty. As if he could read my thoughts, he pulled me close to him, wrapping me up in his arms, holding on like both our lives had been on a path to this one moment in time. Was it always going to lead to this? From the very beginning? He brought his mouth to my ear, his lips lightly kissing the skin behind my ear and near my hairline. I shivered at how much I loved the sensation of his lips back on my skin. He rested his forehead on mine and with the words he said next, I knew it was true. It was our beginning of our future.

“Because I told you once that you were my forever moment Norah...and forever moments...
last forever.
”

***

My first love had brown eyes,

My soul mate had green,

And the man I will spend the rest of my life with,

has blue.

Click.

“Hey.”

Click, click.

“That camera is for honeymoon snapshots.”

Clint was laying on our king-sized bed, while I was staring out of our balcony window, taking in the night-time beauty of the Rome cityscape.

“I just want some more photos of my gorgeous wife in her wedding dress. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Click, click.

“That’s kind of hard when I can feel your eyes on my back and can hear the camera snapping away.” I moved closer to the window, the sound of my dress shifting with me. It was clingy and beaded in such a way that the design work on my dress made the shapes created by the beadwork look three-dimensional. It was like an architectural drawing. The shape of the dress was simple, straight up and down with tiny beaded capped sleeves, but it was the beadwork running down my dress that made it look artistic and modern. It was perfect for me. Perfect for my wedding with Clint which took place in Rome, at the Borghese Gardens at the top of the Spanish steps. It was a very simple ceremony, just how we wanted. My father even made an appearance to give me away. He didn’t want to miss this opportunity, especially since he missed the birth of his grandson. He did however, go to very elaborate means to cover his tracks when he came here, but since we were in his homeland, keeping his movements secret, was easy.

I looked over my shoulder and at Clint, seated upright on the bed still looking through the lens as I stood near the window. “Clint, put the camera down. Don’t you have more important things to do right now...like making love to your wife?”