Page 49 of Dare to Fall

I extended my arm, and she wrapped hers around it. My heart soared at the feel of her touch, but I reminded myself that she wasn’t mine—no matter how much she brightened my life.

“How did you become interested in art?” Eva asked, her body inching closer to mine as we meandered through the exhibit.

“It was actually my grandfather who got me interested. My grandmother died before I was born, but my grandfather used to tell me stories of when they would get to go to art museums. They didn’t have much money, so instead of buying her gifts for special occasions, he would take her on adventures. Before they had my father, they traveled all around the country, looking for construction jobs my grandfather could take.

“When I was growing up, my grandfather would take me to the art museums every year for my birthday and for the holidays. A few years before he passed, he took me on a special trip to New York, and we went to the MoMA. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was like walking through a time capsule. Every piece of art was timeless, and yet, they each represented a special moment in time. My father has always been big on making sure he leaves a legacy in this world, so I think the combination of my grandfather’s love of art and my father’s persistent lectures on how I need to make a mark on the world led me to where I am today. Being an artist isn’t just what I do. It’s who I am. It’s how I make sense of the world. And myself.”

Eva stopped walking, and I turned to face her. “What is it?” I asked.

She looked up at me through thick lashes. Swirls of honey danced in her chocolate-brown eyes.

“I think it’s a beautiful way to discover your love for something. Being inspired by the people in your family to chase after your dreams. I can imagine how good it must have felt to have their support.”

I slipped my hands into my pockets and turned to continue our walk. She fell into step beside me, never taking her eyes off me.

“It wasn’t quite how you painted it in your mind.”

“How do you mean?” Her brows pinched together.

“Well, my grandfather and father did inspire me to find my passion in their own ways, but I wouldn’t exactly say that my father was supportive of me becoming an artist.”

“Did he want you to do something else?”

It surprised me at how easy it was to open up to Eva. Hardly anyone knew what initially pushed me to apply to Parsons, forsaking everything my father wanted me to be. Little did he know that while I didn’t pursue exactly what he wanted me to, he still had a huge impact on the trajectory of my career. I valued what my father had taught me growing up, that leaving a legacy of my own would bring me joy and fulfillment. He just couldn’t see that I had to forge my own path instead of taking what he wanted to hand down.

As I looked at Eva, with wonder and curiosity in her eyes, I couldn’t bear the thought of her thinking less of me. I didn’t want her to see me as a selfish man who jilted his father’s hopes and chose to follow my own dreams.

“We’ve just had a hard time seeing eye to eye on things lately.”

I could see in her eyes that she wanted to press further, but she just gave me a soft smile and nodded.

“What about you, Eva? How did you finally decide to alter your path and follow your dreams?”

I regretted the words as soon as I saw her face crumble and tears pool in her eyes.

26

Eva

Dizziness shroudedmy ability to concentrate as my eyes darted across the exhibit, looking for any way to escape. I couldn’t lose myself to the wallowing. Not here. But the tears started spilling over against my will.

“I can’t do this right now. I can’t do this with you.” I glared at Garth, frustrated that he triggered the pain I had tried so hard to keep buried for this one night. There would be a time to cry and scream, but I needed to be stable for Drema. I couldn’t make a scene on her big night.

I tried to walk around him to head for the exit, keeping my eyes cast downward because I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk away if I looked at him. A strong hand wrapped around my forearm as he whirled me around to face him. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he looked down at me, and his hazel eyes deepened to a blue-gray as they flickered to my lips for just a moment.

Blood rushed through my veins as my heart pounded in my chest. Heat surged across my skin as his hands moved to the small of my back, pressing me closer to him. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me, to get lost in the sensation of his body against mine. I needed him to take the pain away, to let everything I felt for him wash over me and not leave a trace of a scar from the anguish that was squeezing my chest.

But looking into his steely gaze, I knew he wouldn’t kiss me—not until he was sure that I no longer belonged to another. Garth wasn’t the type of man to share a woman. But why wouldn’t he let me go?

With a gentle brush of his fingers down the side of my cheek, I melted into him. Losing all sense of awareness, I let the tears fall and succumbed to the ache that bore a hole in my chest.

“Come on,” he whispered into my ear. “Let’s take a walk outside for a minute.”

“Okay,” I murmured as wet tears slipped over my lips.

With his large frame, he shielded me from most onlookers as we navigated through the exhibit to the front entrance. A crisp breeze floated through my hair as we made our way through the double doors into the dark night. Garth directed me to a bench that was nestled between two large oak trees on the side of the building. It was a private nook, off the main path where no one else would see the mascara I was sure was running down my face.

We sat on the bench, and I buried my face in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Garth. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. You should be in there, showing off your work and talking with the students.”

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