Page 160 of Lavender and Honey

I laugh at Soren's typical vague understanding of my artistic process. "He's right. Water is essential." I move to the sink, running my hand over the deep basin that would easily accommodate cleaning even my largest brushes. The thoughtfulness of each detail makes my heart swell.

"And this..." I turn to the easel standing proudly in the center of the room. It's beautiful—solid wood with brass fittings, adjustable to various heights and angles. "This is..."

"That was from all of us," Soren says, moving closer until he's standing just behind me. "Finn found it from some artisan woodworker he knows. Said it was the best."

I reach out to touch the easel, my fingers tracing the smooth, polished wood. "It's incredible," I whisper, emotion threatening to overwhelm me again. "Everything is incredible."

I smiled at Soren,"And what was your contribution? You have mentioned everyone but yourself.”

His smile turns mischievous again. "Besides my devastating charm and moral support?" He walks to what I had assumed was a closet door and opens it with a flourish. "This."

Inside is a small but luxurious chaise lounge, upholstered in rich purple fabric that I immediately recognize as matching Soren's eyes. Beside it stands a small table and a reading lamp.

"Your modeling couch," he declares, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "For when you decide you simply must capture my perfect form for posterity."

I burst into laughter, the sound bright and unrestrained in the sunlit studio. "Of course you would," I say, shaking my head at his playful vanity. "A purple chaise lounge. How subtle."

Soren grins, not the least bit apologetic. "Subtlety is overrated. Besides," he adds, his voice dropping to a more sincere note,"I thought you might want somewhere comfortable to sit sometimes. To think, or sketch, or just... be."

The thoughtfulness behind his typically flamboyant gesture touches me deeply. I move to the chaise, running my hand over the soft fabric. It is comfortable, I realize as I sit down experimentally. Perfect for long hours of contemplation or quick breaks between painting sessions.

"Thank you," I say, the words wholly inadequate for what I'm feeling. "Not just for this—" I gesture to the chaise, "—but for all of it. For thinking of this. For..." I trail off, struggling to articulate the depth of my gratitude and love for these four men I had in my life.

Soren's typical playfulness softens, and he sits beside me on the chaise, his thigh pressing against mine. "We want you to be happy here," he says, his voice gentler than usual. "To have everything you need."

"I am happy," I whisper, overwhelmed by the realization of just how true that is. "Happier than I ever thought possible."

The mark on my neck—his mark—tingles pleasantly as he reaches up to touch my face, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek with unexpected tenderness. "Good," he says simply. "That's all any of us want."

For a moment, we sit in comfortable silence, the sunlight streaming through the windows creating patterns on the wooden floor. I lean against him slightly, savoring his warmth as our scents mixed together, with the lingering scenes from Lucian, Finn and Elias.

I smiled as I curled more against Soren, feeling more at home than I ever have and couldn’t wait to see what the future with all of them would hold.

For I knew with them in my life, it would be a good one.

---