“I’ve been looking forward to seeing him,” my dad says. “I owe him an apology for my grumpiness that day at the hospital.”
I flash him an amused look. “Dad, that was months ago, and he understood. You were in a lot of pain and entitled to be grumpy.”
The cast is off, but he’s still walking with a walking stick. He leans to whisper into my ear. “He’s a movie star and the son of Adrian Martin. How many people can say that Kyle Bryce kept them company in the hospital and gave them a ride home?”
I laugh. I forget that Kyle is not simply Kyle to a lot of people. He’s the Kyle Bryce. One of the most gifted movie stars of our time.
His imperfectly perfect face flashes in my mind, and tears immediately fill my eyes. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t cry today. It’s an important day for me with no space for tears and sadness. I should be the happiest person in the world. This is a day I’ve waited for all my life, without knowing it.
I feel faint with nervousness. What if no one comes? What if I get horrible reviews in the papers? I must have been insane to agree to this.
“I remember this one,” my mom says, looking up at one of my earlier paintings. “It was my favorite one for a long time.”
“Do you want it? I can ask them to take it down?” I tell her as she stands in front of the landscape of Santorini Island. It’s one of the places in Europe I’d love to visit.
“No, of course not. I have so many paintings of yours. Let other people enjoy them too,” she says.
I notice that my father is distracted by any movement at the door. I haven’t told them that Kyle and I are no longer seeing each other. I can’t keep it from them anymore. I take a deep breath. “Dad …”
“Ah, there’s the man,” my dad says happily.
Confused, I turn to the entrance, and when I see him, all air leaves my lungs. It’s him. I’m not dreaming. I stand rooted to the spot as our gazes meet, seeing wariness in his eyes and something else. I don’t care. He’s here! He came.
I should still be upset. He mistrusted me. He thought I had sold the story of him and Adrian Martin to the press. But as I look at his face and ache to run my hand over his scars, I can’t find it in me to be angry. I’ve missed him so much. I might have been too harsh. Too quick to take offense and look for a reason to end things with Kyle. He had had a nasty experience with a girlfriend selling a story; why would he not jump to the same conclusion about me?
My heart beats faster as he comes toward us.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hughes,” he says, bowing respectfully.
“We’re John and Nora,” my dad says happily. “None of that Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, please.”
“Okay,” Kyle says.
He comes to me and kisses my cheek. His male scent envelops me, and I have to bite my lower lip to stop myself from purring.
“I was just telling Grace here that I owe you an apology for being so grumpy when we first met,” my dad says, completely starstruck.
Kyle laughs. “You had every right to be. I’d have been worse. My threshold for pain is very low.”
“Really? How about when stunts go wrong?”
“Grace?” It’s Greg. I’d been so focused on Kyle that I didn’t realize that the gallery is quickly filling up. My heart jumps to my throat when I see so many people studying my paintings.
Greg sees my parents and Kyle, and they exchange greetings and pleasantries. Isla and Mark walk in at that moment, and they join us.
“I want to steal Grace away from you all for a few minutes. Some people want to meet her,” Greg says.
“Yes, of course,” everyone choruses.
I meet Kyle’s eyes, and we exchange a warm look that turns my brain to mush. Greg introduces me to so many people, all of whom gush about my work. I have to pinch myself to believe they really like it. A look at the prices and I almost scream, but it doesn’t seem to shock the people looking at them.
Every so often, I search for Kyle, and each time, I find him looking at me. I want to ask him not to leave, but something tells me that he won’t. My parents are beside themselves with excitement, and when I meet my mother’s gaze from across the room, she flashes me a thumbs-up sign.
The excitement in the room goes up a notch when Adrian Martin walks in. Kyle winks at me, and I gesture at him a gratitude sign. Greg whispered to me earlier how much work Kyle has done creating a buzz for my show among his art-loving friends.