Page 66 of Mine to Worship

I sit on my ass, crossing my legs under me. “How is he?”

“Very reserved. Andre is a private person and I believe his notoriety comes from the mystique around that.”

His eyes say there is more to it, but I drop it. I am not interested in that man’s private life, just the professional one.

“So we went to a gallery yesterday to see this new artist, and I met Andre there. He remembered me from before. He said he wants my work in his galleries.”

“Smart move.”

“Kian…” I roll my eyes at him. It’s humbling how he views me, as if I am this unique artist, unmatched in my talent.

“You are far too modest; he’d be lucky to have your art. But what’s the problem?”

It’s uncanny his ability to strip me until I can’t hide behind layers but have to face the true issue.

“I am pregnant.”

“Angel, in six months, it will be over. What else?”

“I…”

“No, let me rephrase it. What do you want? Because if you want us to move to Paris, it’s no fucking problem. I want you to have the life you deserve, and for all your dreams to come true.”

“I…” I jab my teeth in my lower lip and draw shapes on the sheet with one finger.

He lifts my chin with a finger and looks into my eyes.

“No, you won’t use our baby as an excuse to hide your insecurities. You are talented and young, and you can achieve anything. With or without me.”

“Babies change your life completely,” I try to reason with him.

He raises a brow. “Do they? Then why hasn’t the world fallen into chaos by now?”

His words make sense. I love that he’s shutting down my arguments one after another. “What if he says he wants my paintings now? I can’t do right now.”

He places a hand on my cheek. “There is no deadline for art. Find a way around it. If he wants your paintings, he’ll accept your proposal.”

“So, you think I should do it?”

“The only relevant question is do you want it enough? I am here, angel. I told you, however, you want me in your life.”

I picture my paintings in Andre’s galleries, people buzzing around, taking my creations in. A smile parts my lips. If I have to put myself out there in order to share my love for painting with the world, I will.

“I want it,” I say with certainty, placing my palm on top of his.

“Good. Now, let’s enjoy pregnancy first. When the baby comes, we can plan around her.”

My hands fly around his neck, and something gives way in me. If I am going to pursue all of my dreams, he is a major part of the big picture.

“Let’s do this.”

He wraps his arms around me like an impenetrable cocoon, kissing the side of my head.

“I’m proud of you.”

A while later, we rejoin the others downstairs. The girls and I are soaking up the sun from the lounge chairs in the back garden, with Tara sips a cold lemonade, and Aubrey flips through a magazine.

Brandon plops down next to me.

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