“Lachlan, I know she’s on something. I haven’t said anything, but honey, if you need help, let me know, ok? I don’t want to see that girl get hurt. She’s like a daughter to me.” I nod.
“Thank you, Betty. We’re working on it.” She nods, and I turn, pushing out the door.
I walk back home, hoping she’s there so I can tell her what I think we should do, even though I wanted to be there when she saw everything I have planned. But the loft is empty. I don’t see her uniform, so she wasn’t here and gone when I was out. I leave my loft and hope she’s at the last place I can think of.
I take the steps two at a time until I get to her floor and knock on the door, no answer. I pound this time. Maybe she’s asleep. “Revna!”
“Hey! Shut the hell up!” Someone calls from the stairwell. I ignore it and continue knocking.
“Revna! Baby, it’s me. Please open the door.”
“Do I need to call the police!?” A woman’s voice yells. Before I tell the woman she can screw off, the door swings open.
Revna is glaring at me. Her eyes are tired and puffy, and she’s drowning in one of my hoodies. “Baby,” I say, breathless.
She silently steps to the side so I can enter. She closes the door, locks it, then goes to her room to sit on the bed. A few of her things are scattered around her room, which makes me think this isn’t the first time she’s been here since Italy. I thought she liked living with me. I love living with her despite our challenges.
I drop to my knees and push between hers. She frowns, looking down at me while I grab her thighs. “Why are you here?” she asks.
“I love you, that’s why. I want what you want. Last night was a blip on the radar. Don’t leave me, muse. I need you.”
She sighs, and her sad, heavy eyes rest on mine. I want to kiss her so badly it hurts. But I bite my tongue, forcing myself to wait for her move. “What if last night wasn’t a blip on the radar, and we should think about what we are doing to each other?”
“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry. I should have talked to you. Because you’re right, I should have the moment I started struggling. I should have said something, but Revna, can we—“ I pause, searching for the words. This will make it worse or better, but I have to try. “Can we put all of that to the side right now? I think we should go with your original idea. I think we should paint our story.”
She sighs and picks at her nails. “No, I thought about it. You were right. It’s too much to put out there.”
“Maybe that’s the point, love. Maybe that’s the point of all of this.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she says. I draw in a breath and press my forehead to her thigh.
“Look, I know this doesn’t solve our issues, either of our issues, together or separately. But we have a painting to finish, and I don’t want to give up.”
“I don’t want to, either.”
“So, can we lay it all out later? We are running out of time, and I was being stupid instead of hearing you out. Don’t get me wrong, I feel like this is incredibly risky, and it feels like I’ll be the one standing naked in front of the judges. But, Revna, I think we need to do it together. I think I’ve just been too scared to admit it because it cements our good and bad. It makes us vulnerable to complete strangers more than we ever before. But I think that’s why we have to do it. That’s the point of art.”
She sighs and runs her hands through my hair. I lean into her touch, and she grips the strands, pulling my head back to look at her. “But what if they hate it?”
“Then they hate it, baby. There is nothing we can do about that.”
“I don’t know if I can handle it.” My heart twists at the fear in her voice. I’m scared, too. I’m afraid that she’s going to lean heavily on the drugs to ignore everything else. I’m worried that we will put ourselves out there only to lose it all and still expose ourselves. My father will see it all, I know that. I know he’s been keeping an eye on me.
“Please come home, Revna. If you’re scared, be scared with me. If you’re sad, be sad with me. We have a lot to work on, but we can only do it one day at a time.”
She looks between my eyes and sighs. “Alright, I’ll come home,” she rasps. My chest lifts just a little. It’s a step towards closing the space between us. I don’t want space. I want her. I want her connected to me. I don’t want to be able to tell where I end and she begins.
“I am nothing without you, love.”
“You were a good artist before me,” she mumbles.
“That might be true, and so were you, but we aren’t what we were apart. We are so much better together.”
“Together or not at all.”
“Exactly,” I say and lift my lips to hers. She leans into the kiss, and I pull myself back before we get carried away. We have work to do.
***