Pieces of Truth

Chapter 27

Poetic

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I sat, staring at my art, aimlessly going over the flow of colors and the movement that I had put into the directions of the paint with my body. I had been trying to find Josh all day but with no luck, and after leaving a message for Clint about when I was moving out, I had retreated to the one place where I could find a tiny speck of peace, my art space. I needed to get my head together and try and finish this last canvas, but all I could think about was Josh, Josh, Josh - where the f*ck is Josh? How could I run from him like that without giving him a minute to explain? If anyone deserved a minute, it was Josh, and I immediately assumed the worst when I saw those texts. If Josh never spoke to me again, it would be my own doing. He probably hated me for running like that, especially after what we shared.

I mean, we finally did it, finally plunged into taking the next step of moving our friendship into the future, and because of all my insecurities and the constant lies and deceit, I believed Josh was just like all the rest of them. And I was wrong. Josh had selflessly ended the Rossi and Voltaggio feud, as well as getting the hit called off Samuel, and he did it so I could be happy. He was never like my Dad or Clint or Samuel. He had always, and would always, be different to the rest of them. He is my Josh, or was my Josh. I didn’t know. All I could feel was terrified that I had lost him for good.

But I needed to try and focus. I needed to try and finish my last painting. This canvas collection was of particular importance to me because it no longer represented my future, but what I had stupidly ignored since I was thirteen. It now represented my sadness and regret. I sat in the middle of the surrounding walls and closed my eyes, listening to my heart thump as the decisions I had made, with all its truths and lies, had now resulted in me being alone. I was sitting, contemplating how to begin my final canvas. I had Lana Del Rey songs playing on repeat in the background as I tried to use my sorrow as inspiration, but this collection wasn’t about sorrow, it was about hopes and dreams. How could I possibly begin in this frame of mind? How could I express hopes and dreams if I gave up on them so easily?

The change in the music forced my eyes to open, and my head to spin around and behind me. A ballad was filling the room. It was a song I immediately recognized and I loved it. It was Ed Sherran’s, Give Me Love.. My eyes searched for movement, for something I had hoped would come and find me. I was clinging to hope, the same kind of hope I had put into this collection. It was all I had left.

And then I saw him.

Josh.

“Is this real? Are you really here?” I whispered, as I locked eyes on Josh who was walking towards me. Low-rise faded blue jeans, a dark-blue polo shirt, messy chestnut brown hair, stubble on his face, and that look he had always given me that told me I was the one. I couldn’t believe he was here. It was almost too much for me, and I stumbled as I got to my feet.

Josh hurried over and put his hands on my hips, so I could find my footing and stand up without trembling. His fingers felt electric as they gripped onto my skin. An overwhelming sense of calmness and relief filled me as I met his eyes again.

“Yes, I’m here, for you, and I thought I’d play something for us,” he said, moving my hair out of my face with one of his hands, while the other rested on my hip. I wanted to cry I was so happy. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to hold me. So many emotions flowed into me all at once. They were overwhelming, but they were real and genuine, and I wanted desperately to embrace them, but I couldn’t, for fear of the imminent rejection.

Josh had come here, even after I doubted him and pushed him away. He was here right now, in front of me and I couldn’t find my voice to express to him how happy I was to see him. I swallowed, feeling meek and vulnerable as his hands gripped into me tighter, pulling me closer to him. I instinctively closed my eyes and rested my hands on his shoulders, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t.

“So you know everything then?” Josh asked. I held him, and let the weight of my body lean on him as if he was the only strength I had left.

I nodded against his shoulder as I searched for the right words. “Yes, I know Josh. I’m so sorry. I should never have doubted you. I should have listened...”

His finger found my lips, stopping them from apologizing any more. “Shhh, no more. I’m here now. It’s OK. I understand why you did what you did. Now, it’s just us.”

He didn’t need me to explain. He just understood and I found myself falling in love with him all over again. He wasn’t going to push me away, he wasn’t about to say good-bye. I wanted to say more, apologize more, but Josh had already taken the silent apology, inhaling it, feeling it, knowing words were not needed. There were never any words needed between us. I should have known. I should have trusted our connection more.

“Is this really happening? Is this finally our moment Josh?” He pulled me closer again and rested his mouth near mine. Our hearts were beating so loudly I almost couldn’t take it. Then Josh pulled away from me. The coolness of the air made my eyes open and look at Josh as he walked over to a table where I kept my paints nearby. He grabbed a tube of the white paint and brought it back. I wasn’t sure what he was doing but I couldn’t say a word. I didn’t want to say anything that would make him leave, make this moment disappear. I had been too stupid for far too long.

Josh walked back over to me and rested his fingers in between where the button of my jeans were and where the edge of my top sat. He made tiny circles with his fingers on my skin. I almost came with the sensation of his touch. The love I felt for him, easily sent the rest of me into a fit of emotions that wanted nothing more than his touch and his kiss all over me. I was craving Josh, craving my candy.

“Do you trust me Norah?” he asked, his hand playing with the edge of my shirt.

I nodded. But what I really wanted to do was say, “Yes and forever”, but I just nodded, unable to speak as his fingers then changed from moving along my skin to lifting up my T-shirt. He did it very slowly, grazing every inch of my skin as his lifted the material up, and off my chest, brushing past my bare skin and instantly making my nipples get hard. I wasn’t wearing a bra. After he removed my shirt, he put his hands back on my hips.

“Don’t move,” Josh instructed. I stilled as I watched him squeeze out a small drop of white paint, and rub it all over the palm of his hand.

What was he doing?

I didn’t question him though. I was done with questions. I just did what he asked, hoping he would put his hands on me again, but I didn’t just want his hands; I wanted all of him on me, and in me.

After Josh had covered his palm with the white paint, he held it up in the air so I could see it. I smiled at him and scrunched up my eyes, confused at what he was doing. He then walked forward and pushed his paint-covered palm onto my chest, in between my breasts and over my heart. He moved his hand away and I looked at his white palm print where my heart sat underneath. He lifted my chin and stared into my eyes.

“Mine?” he asked me. I knew exactly what he meant and what statement he was making. It was all so poetic I began to cry. I didn’t hide it, I let it happen so freely. His hand had my heart. I nodded my head up and down very quickly. I would always be his, from this moment till forever.

“Yours,” I squeaked out as the tears lined my cheek. He used his unpainted hand to wipe away the tears and then picked up my left hand and held it up so he could show me what he was about to do next.

He dabbed some more paint onto his finger and then, on my left hand, on my ring finger, circled it with white paint. I gasped. If this was a movie right now, it would be the moment when everyone stood up and applauded at the monumental declaration that Josh was making with just a few simple symbolic moves with the paint. Josh took a deep breath as he stared at the little white paint circle he made around my ring finger. He lifted my chin once more and said, “Forever?” and stared at me and waited.

I was barely able to breathe, but as my brain comprehended what Josh was saying, what he was asking, I smiled so brightly because I could not hide my elation. I lifted his hand with mine and intertwined our fingers so I conveyed my answer with every ounce of love I could project.

“Forever and more.” My words held every kind of meaning. I wanted everything with Josh. Marriage, babies, good times and bad. I wanted his soft touch and rough embrace. Just, everything.

Josh kissed me; so hard I thought I would faint. It was as if our bodies had melted into one. The palm print on my chest rubbing up against Josh’s shirt. He couldn’t pull me close enough. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, he pulled away to regain some composure. He held my hand as he looked around at the three canvases I had assembled in formation as a small boxed room.

“I like these pieces. They remind me of something sweet. It makes me think of...”

“The future. Yes. It was always your collection.”

“Mine?” Josh half laughed as he pointed to himself. He looked at me, realizing he had always been in my heart, right at the forefront, just waiting for my mind to align with it. This was our destiny. This is where the truth had led us. Lies had only led me to heartache, whereas the truth had led me to Josh, but somehow, I always knew it would.

Our worlds were both dark, and nothing would be normal, but together we would make our own world filled with light and love. This is what happens when soul mates finally join as one. The stars align, the heavens sing, and everything else fades away. You know you’ll always have strength in your heart, and courage in your eyes. Our future wouldn’t be normal, and would be different from the rest, but no less perfect.

Josh lifted up his shirt now, exposing his muscular chest. I grinned, feeling a new sense of comfortable. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to cover myself in paint and let your body run wild on these canvases you have. It looks like a lot of fun.”

I grabbed at his jeans, slowly popping the buttons and letting them fall down to his ankles. He wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. I really loved that he was constantly sans-boxers.

“Well, why don’t we find out?” I looked down to his nakedness and then back up to his face. “Together.” I reached over to another tube of paint and squeezed out a huge dollop and then rubbed it all along Josh’s chest and down to his torso. His eyes rolled back as my hands ran over his body, moving the paint along his skin.

Josh breathed long and hard as he pulled my body up against his own, allowing the paint and our bodies to become one. “Always together.”