The Wedding Contract

Chapter 35





The next morning we both shower and head back to the studio. I flinch when I see his car out front. “How’d that get here?”

“I had someone bring it.”

I glance at him. “How? I mean, I don’t want to pour lemon juice on your circumstances, but didn’t that cost a lot? How’d you pay for it?”

He laughs. “I’m not poor, Sky. I’ve been saving my own money for a long time, cash I earned myself. I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I invested some of it and as you said, I was over here rent free. The old man made me sign a lease and actually wrote $0 on the line. However, he did not say I couldn’t sublet the space, so I am—to you. There are two years left, and it’s all yours.”

My jaw drops. “Are you still Ferro-filthy-rich?”

He laughs. “No, no private jets for us, but we can get an apartment, buy clothes, and eat. What’s that called? Middle class?”

I nod and smile, watching him as he walks around and pulls our gear out of his trunk. “Come on, let’s process what we have from Sophie’s wedding.”

“Nick, I can’t take your store.” But he doesn’t listen. He walks inside, sets things down and starts turning on lights before turning to see me standing in the parking lot, gaping like a fish.

He holds out his hand, “Well, then let’s make it our store. Work with me, shoot with me, live with me, love me…” Nick’s hand dangles in the air as he reaches out to me.

My stomach twists because this will change everything, but it’s a good, warm, feeling and I’m not scared anymore. Reaching for his hand, I say, “Yes,” and allow him to hold onto me tight. Nick kisses the top of my head, and then my temple, and finally my lips. He lingers there, kissing me softly and making the butterflies in my tummy swirl with glee.

“Come on.”

-----

We work together for the next few days, sleeping in our studio until we find a little apartment down the street. It’s closer to the water and it’s on the second floor, so it’s nice at night, when the moon is full. You can see the lake and watch starlight ripple on the surface. Nick finds me at the window sill, leaning out.

He slips his arms around my waist and kisses my cheek. “There’s a text message from someone I know you’ll want to see.”

“Oh?” I turn around and take the phone. The smile fades from my face. I can’t really tell what kind of message it is based on the first few words. Actually, it looks like she’s texting me from her honeymoon to tell me off. I hesitate, not wanting to know if I’ve lost her.

Nick pulls me to the bed, our bed, and says, “Open it. You wanted to know; now you’ll know.”

Shoving my fear aside, I flick the screen and read her message. It starts with how disappointed she was when I asked for the glue. That was the part I could see on the screen before I opened it, and then the message apologizes for taking such drastic measures, but I mattered to her, and she couldn’t let me become that kind of person. She was aware of the costs and the possible outcomes. When she heard my store was flooded, she sent the text. The last line of the message says: I’M SO SORRY. I HOPED THINGS WOULD WORK OUT AND YOU GUYS WOULD REALIZE HOW YOU FELT. IS NICK WITH YOU?

I type back three letters: YES

Nick is affectionate and touches me the way I’ve always craved. He takes the phone from my hand and pushes me back on the bed. “Please tell me you’re done working. I have plans for us.”

I laugh and push him off. “I have a few more shots to edit. I want them done by the time Sophie gets back.”

He nods. “Can I see the one you’re working on? Every time I walk by you shut off the screen.”

Watching him for a moment, I consider his request. We pooled the wedding photos and have been editing them together, but I haven’t let Nick see the boudoir shoot even though Sophie is clothed in all of them. I shot those based on how I felt about Nick, and it lets him see a little bit further into my mind than I’d like right now. “Maybe, but I don’t think you’ll like it. It’s too dark, with an odd amount of juxtaposition.”

He takes my hand. “Show me.” Eagerness fills his gaze and I know he’s excited about it for the same reason I’m frightened. Art is weird like that, it’s a direct line to the soul. When someone doesn’t like my work, it’s hard not to take it personally. I’m not sure he’ll like this. It’s very different than the things I’ve done in the past.

I walk to the kitchen and pull up a chair in front of the computer, warning him of these facts.

Nick grabs a drink while the file opens and then walks over to me. The screen is off, and the finished picture is there waiting. All I have to do is press a button. My heart thumps, slamming into my ribs. “Ready?”

“Show me,” Nick urges, and I hit the button. The image comes onto the screen and I close my eyes. I can’t watch his reaction. The picture is Sophie, floating on her back, eyes closed, in the cove. Her satin gown clings to her pale body, revealing every inch the water doesn’t conceal. The cream colored hem of her skirt billows around her ankles and off to one side of the picture. Dark hair swirls around her face and she floats with her arms by her sides, a single raised finger is the only way you can tell she’s alive. It’s life and death, beginnings and endings, darkness and light all caught up into one piece. It screams of utter confusion and sublime emotion. It felt like I’d drowned that day, but symbolized in that raised finger there was a flicker of hope.


Nick gasps and leans in closer. “My God, Sky. This is…” His jaw hangs open and I inwardly cringe. He hates it. I reach for the screen to turn it off, but he grabs my wrist. “This is the most amazing piece you’ve ever created. She looks like that old painting of Ophelia, but it’s different, hopeful, like she’ll float away and begin again. And the dress and the way the water surrounds her, she looks perfect, like a Greek Goddess.”

Oops, I didn’t think about that part too much before I opened the image. Sophie is dressed, but her breasts are clearly visible. It’s like there’s a layer of tissue paper to conceal her modesty and that’s it. “I shouldn’t have shown you this.” I try to pull away, to shut off the screen, but he won’t let me.

Instead, Nick pulls me to my feet and brushes my hair behind my ear. “Don’t tell me that you’re too shy to show me pieces like this.”

“That’s not it. This is my best friend. She looks perfect because she is perfect. Everything about her is perfect.”

Nick tips my face up so our gazes lock. “Who made you so insecure? I want to kick his ass. I also need to tell you something. You need to see it, hold on.” Nick clicks a few buttons and pulls up a picture of Sophie the way she usually looks and puts the two images side by side. “The woman you photographed may be your best friend, but she doesn’t look like that. The woman in that picture, the heart and soul of that piece, is you. You made her body curvy with the water lines and shadows. The highlights from the sun illuminated her skin perfectly. This piece reveals more about you than her. I don’t see a half dressed body in the water. I see you, your thoughts and fears, beautifully displayed in a context that means something to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s your mermaid cove, right?”

“Yeah.” Nerves shoot through me. I knew Nick was perceptive and the thought was in my mind when I shot the picture, but I’d not verbalized it to anyone, not even myself. I start to shake.

“This is symbolic for you, too. It’s the end of childhood and the beginning of something else, something unknown. The mermaids only favored Peter in that book. They tried to kill Wendy and any other girl that went near their cove. The location of this portrait matters, because it reflects the end of one life and hopefulness of another. This Ophelia is not dead, she just needs to be revived—you needed to be brought back to life and leave some childhood notions behind—not all of them.”

I stare at him feeling completely exposed, even though I’m dressed. I smile crookedly, awkwardly, “You see through me.”

“Scary, isn’t it?” Nick smiles and pulls me toward him. “I know how that feels. It haunts me every time I look at you. At the same time, it’s freeing. I don’t have to pretend around you. I already know who you are and I like what I see, childhood dreams, crazy mother and all—Sky, it just makes me want you more.”

I throw my arms around his neck and he sweeps me up, taking me to the bed and showing me just how much he loves me.