“There’s nothing wrong with expressing your feelings. Love is a powerful emotion, one I’ve done my best to show in the painting you asked for. That’s what helped me with her eyes finally. I’d hoped the gold paint I’d chosen would reflect how she felt, but do you know what actually did? Her smile when she looks at you. Now every time I work on it, all I can think is this one quote from Shakespeare.When I saw you, I fellin love, and you smiled because you knew.That’s you and Madison.”
He had to cough to clear his throat. “I know it, and I’m damned grateful. For you too, Doc. It’s beautiful. Damn you’re talented.”
“She’s a beautiful subject.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed the paint off his hands. “This is the third time I’ve painted Madison, and I’ve realized something quite powerful.”
Intrigued, he asked, “Care to share?”
“When she’s around you, usually she’s blazing with light and fire and action. She’s always got something spunky to say. But she’s quite powerful when she’s quiet. Her strength is rooted deep within her. Phoebe thinks she’s like one of those ancient torches dipped in oil that never went out.”
He gripped his friend’s shoulder, touched by the poetry of the description. “That’s her exactly, Doc.”
“I’m nearly finished,” Sawyer added, stuffing his paint-splattered cloth back in his pocket. “Do you know when you want to give it to her?”
In the beginning, he’d wanted the painting as part of Operation Madison. He’d thought he’d need it to show her how much she loved him. Now he didn’t doubt she understood how it was between them. He could see it in every look, feel it in every touch.
Both of them had accepted the truth: they were it for each other.
The future was what she mistrusted.
“How about the day the Michelin stars are announced?” He lifted a shoulder, telling himself she would be winning her star somehow. “She’ll roll her eyes and tell me commissioning a masterpiece of her from you was too much, and I can laugh at her, because we both know I plan to shower her with gifts the rest of her life.”
Sawyer’s brows knit. “I know we aren’t supposed to talk about?—”
“No, Doc.” He gave an assuring smile. “You painters talk about light and shadow, right? I see the shadows. I am choosing to focus on the light right now. Do that with me, my friend.”
Because he couldn’t bear anything else right now…
Sawyer nodded sagely. “The other thing painters say is that the light is always changing. I prefer to think that’s when the real magic of a painting—and life—comes to the surface. For now, I’m enjoying my moment with her.”
They shared a quiet look as the loving image of a woman who had changed both their lives peered at them from her canvas. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
Sawyer was already turning back to the painting. “Yeah…I’ll see you.”
Strolling back downstairs, he headed to his office. There were still a lot of hours left before Madison would come home and tell him how dinner had gone. Well, he’d done what he’d hoped. He’d caught up with all of their roommates. Topping off what had already been a great day, he’d seen Doc’s painting of the woman who ruled his heart.
Maybe he wouldn’t hang it in their bedroom. She’d probably be embarrassed.
No—he would hang it in his office.
Because he would never tire of seeing that look on her face.
Soon he’d see her joy after she won her first Michelin star.
God, he already knew he’d want to capture that look forever too.
He’d have to ask Sawyer.
