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“I’ll give you a moment to decide.” He walks to the paintings tossed on the floor and picks them up under an arm. They’re so big they brush the ground as he carries them toward the back door.
I follow him, mute, as someone opens the door for him to step through.
In the back alley, a big green dumpster looms. Mac slings the three canvases over the lip and brushes imaginary dust off his hands, then turns to me. “That fourth one. You want it in here with the others, or you want everyone to see an accurate representation of the kind of man your ex really is?”
Oh. My. God.
I gulp, trying to find my voice. “Leave it up,” I finally croak.
Mac nods, his face remaining grim. Determined. He pats the pockets of his jeans, front and back, then his jacket, and finally reaches into his breast pocket to pull out a silver Zippo lighter. He flicks it open and lights it. It flickers in the gentle breeze, and his eyes return to mine. “Your choice, babe. Say the word, and those pieces of trash are going up in flames.”
“Trash!” Kevin splutters behind me. “You can’t do this. You can’t ruin them. That’s my art! I haven’t even had time to have these recorded and photographed for my catalogue raisonné. If you burn them, it’s like they don’t even exist. That’s my best work!”
The gallery owner clears her throat. “Mr. Paulson, you signed the papers, which means—”
“He can’t do this!” Kevin marches out, red-faced, hurrying to the side of the dumpster.
Mac’s eyes are still on me, and I feel something beautiful and warm spread through my body. This is the feeling I had when he showed up to take me home when my car broke down after Fiona’s wedding. This is what I was missing at the airport, when I had to say goodbye to my kids.
It’s someone in my corner. Someone who stands up for me. Someone who isn’t afraid to fight for me.
I know I’m able to stand on my own. I know I can navigate this world without anyone by my side…but do I have to? Do I have to make my own way when there’s someone who could be my strength when I feel weak? There’s power in being alone, but being with someone else doesn’t mean I have to give that up. I can be in a relationship without abandoning my sense of self.
I know myself now, probably better than ever. And I know that Mac is nothing like Kevin. He’s willing to burn fifteen thousand dollars’ worth of art—for me. He’s willing to erase these pieces from existence—for me.
Tears welling in my eyes, I give Mac a watery smile, and I nod. “Burn them.”
He tosses the lighter, and Kevin shrieks. “There’s still time—they’re flame-resistant! We can still get them out.”
The fire whooshes, and the smell of burning garbage fills the alley.
Mac closes the distance between us and hooks an arm around my waist. He tugs me close, his eyes never leaving mine. When he speaks, his voice is a low growl. “I’m in love with you, Trina. If you want to wait until Katie’s out of my class, I’ll wait, but I just need you to know that as soon as that last bell rings, I’ll be heading straight for you.”
Tears are flowing freely now, and I barely even hear Kevin’s pathetic wails. All I see is Mac, the firelight from the burning dumpster flickering over his face, the soft leather of his jacket stretched over his broad shoulders, his tousled hair, and the expression on his face that tells me he’s telling the absolute truth.
He’ll wait for me. He loves me. He’s in love with me.
“I don’t want to wait,” I tell him.
Then Mac Blair, master potter and motorcycle enthusiast—teacher, lover, protector—kisses me like his life depends on it. I lose myself to him, in him, and I finally let myself fall.
“You,” Kevin says, marching close to us. “You’re the soccer coach. You’re the biker. You’re Katie’s teacher.” He rears back, staring at me. “You fucking whore.” He whirls on Mac. “I’ll have you fired. I’ll place a complaint.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Mac tells him, then slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my woman and I have somewhere to be.”
“No!” Kevin screeches again. “I’m calling the police! This is assault.”
“Let’s go, babe,” Mac says, his lips close to my ear, and my lips twitch.
When I glance at the crowd spilling out of the gallery’s back door, it only takes me a moment to find my new girl gang, my mother, the ladies from the hotel, and my face splits into a smile.
All of them throw their hands up and scream in delight, which causes Kevin to wail louder.
I laugh, hook my arm around Mac’s waist, and let him walk me down the alley and onto the street. His motorcycle is parked near the curb, and I arch my brows. “I thought you put this thing away for the winter.”
“Weather’s been nice, and I needed to ride tonight, especially since I knew there was a chance I’d see you. I was planning on the fact that I’d need to clear my head.”
My eyes flick up to his, and I find myself reaching up to brush my fingers over his cheek. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
