Page 161 of Before I Loved You

I nod. “It feels weird.”

“A good weird?”

“Yeah.” I glance down at him, something I’m not used to having to do while he sits in the wheelchair beside me. “A good weird.”

“Ah, Sarah!” Mrs. Blossom strides toward me, looking elegant in a deep blue chiffon wrap dress. “They just finished setting up your pieces.” She smiles proudly. “They are stunning. Would you like to come see them before we get started?”

I inhale a deep breath and nod.

As we follow Mrs. Blossom down a hall, nerves start gnawing at my insides.

What if Paul doesn’t like my pieces?

What if no one likes my pieces?

What if the reviews are horrible?

What if—

“Sarah,” Paul breathes, his lips parted and eyes misting. “You made these?”

I was so lost inside my head that I didn’t realize we had come to a stop. When I look before me, I see my paintings.

My painting of my mom and dad beside me as translucent shadows watching over me.

My painting of my new family: Paul, Mrs. Weston, Ray, Kevin, Tina, and Lucas.

My painting of my hand and Paul’s hand clasped together with a lily on top representing our Lily.

My painting of a field of vibrant flowers, which I used every color possible to create.

And finally, my painting of the photo I found of me, Paul’s dad, and Teddy.

That one is my favorite.

Anxiety overwhelms me as everyone remains silent.

“Well…” I fidget with a piece of my hair. “What…do you think?’

Ray stares at the pieces, blinking a few times while appearing in shock.

“Are they that bad?” I ask, wrapping my arms around my stomach as I curl in on myself. Paul grunts, struggling to stand from his chair. “Paul, what are you doing? You shouldn’t—”

My words cut off as his lips land hard on mine in an all-consuming kiss, stealing the breath from my lungs. His hands embrace the sides of my jaw in a possessive hold while my fingers clutch onto his black button-down shirt so I don’t drop to the floor from my weak knees.

His lips brush against mine as he pulls away, pressing our foreheads together. “They are truly breathtaking, Sarah. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?” I ask, unsure.

He smiles, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Really.”

“These are magnificent, Sarah,” Ray murmurs as I help Paul back onto his seat.

“Thank you, Ray.”

“And just look at all that color,” Mrs. Blossom remarks behind me. “To think this girl wouldn’t use anything but black and white paint on the first day of class.”

“I guess I just needed some inspiration,” I say, gazing at Paul.

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