Page 64 of If You Never Come Back
He smiles. “Noted. I want to check on something else.”
He leads me around to the back alley where there’s a back entrance to the tiny building next to Dandy Lime. It’s completely empty. Remy told me once what business used to be there, but it was before he bought the bar, and I can’t remember.
I follow Wes as he strolls slowly inside the space. There’s nothing notable about it. Dingy wooden floors that are begging for a polish, high ceilings, exposed brick walls. It boasts the same unfinished industrial look Dandy Lime did before Remy remodeled it.
Wes heads for the corner of the open space, steps to the side, and then I see it. Two framed drawings leaning up against the wall nearest me. Both don Wes’s exquisite face, one in black and white, the other in watercolor.
My breath lodges in my throat. It takes a second, but I get my voice back.
“Wes, what…what is this?”
It doesn’t matter how long I stare at the framed artwork—myartwork. The artwork I so lovingly crafted and then so bitterly sold months ago.
He takes a step toward the pieces, a shy smile on his face. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Inside my chest, my heart is swelling and swelling. All this time I thought I sold those paintings to some random person.
“You’re the one who bought them?”
“Yes.”His eyes fall to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck.
“But how? You were practically off the grid when you were hiking and camping.”
“Every time I’d stay in a town with decent internet, I’d check out your website. It was my cowardly way of staying connected to you when I thought I ruined everything.”
I squint at my artwork sitting in front of me. I recall the afternoon I stumbled upon these sketches in my desk drawer. My heart swells. I’m so thankful that even in my post-breakup stupor, I didn’t rip them to shreds like I initially wanted to.
“But you didn’t have an address the whole time you were gone. How did you even manage to get them delivered to you?”
“Colin’s cousin lives in Salt Lake City, so I sent them to his place and he held on to them for me until I could make it over there.”Wes clears his throat. “When I saw them, I knew I needed to move fast. Someone would have bought them if I didn’t snatch them up first.”
He turns back to the wall where my paintings rest. Together we stand, silently staring. I scoop his hand in mine, and he twists his head to me. Uncertainty is the undercurrent of his smile.
“You framed them beautifully.” I smile at him.
“It was kind of weird trying to explain to Colin’s cousin why I wanted to buy two portraits of my own face. He must have thought I was an ego-maniac.”
I squeeze his hand. “I’m so glad you did. I should have never given them away in the first place. I was just…”
Wes squeezes my hand softly in return, and I know I don’t have to explain. He understands perfectly.
I rest my head on his shoulder. “So did you have to sweet-talk the owner of this building to hide them up here this whole time you’ve been back?”
“Something like that.” This time he smiles like he’s hiding a secret.
He turns so he’s standing in front of me. “I thought they’d look great as the first pieces you display in your new art studio and gallery.”
“I don’t have an art studio or a gallery.”
“You do now.”
Even as he gestures around the empty space around us, it takes me a second to comprehend what he means. Then I feel the impact like an invisible anvil to the head. It knocks every last molecule of air out of me.
“Wait, you mean…this place?”
His smile widens. “It’s yours.”
“But how did you—what did you…”
