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Several minutes pass by, and all I can think of is seeing Knight in the morning, then my eyes drift to the grandfather clock on the wall.
It’s ten.
It’s not that late.
Can I really wait until morning to see him?
I stand and grab my jacket from the coat rack in the hall before the answer can process in my mind.
“I’m going out for a bit, Dad,” I call out.
Dad comes to the top of the stairs and smiles at me, looking like he knows where I’m going. “Alright, be careful.”
I return his smile with a newfound hope in my heart, then head out to find my husband.
* * *
When I reach the house I went from calling a prison to a home, Denise and Claude welcome me with open arms and inform me that Knight is outside in his workshop.
I head out there to see him, my nerves tangled in those tight knots I’ve grown accustomed to and the bats nestling in the pit of my stomach going crazy.
I walk into the workshop but don’t see him, so I go around to the side room where the Giselle collection used to live.
The moment I turn the corner, a giant sculpture of a beautiful woman in a flowing Greek tunic takes my breath away, slowing my steps.
Wow,Knight is sculpting again, and this style is closer to his mother’s with its gracefulness and awe that hits you right in the heart.
It has the same bronze finish as his others, but he’s painted her dress white.
The woman looks exactly like one of those sculptures of Greek Goddesses you’d see in a museum or in the movies. She has long, flowing hair that appears to ripple like she’s in the water. Her arms are outstretched like she’s reaching out to someone. But she’s holding something in the palm of her left hand.
When I get closer, I realize it’s an opened pomegranate. A few more steps closer, and as I study the woman’s face, knowledge strikes me like lightening crackling in the sky that she’s me.
My hands fly up to my mouth and I gasp. Shock slams into my chest, then it ripples through my body like sparks of wildfire.
I walk right up to it and take in the magnificent beauty, my heart overflowing with everything good in this world.
I remember when I first saw the sculptures of Giselle and thought how Knight must have loved her to be so inspired to create such art. I never thought I would be standing here in the same spot, looking at a sculpture of myself.
Just as I’m about to walk around to admire the back, Knight enters through the side door, carrying a tin of what must be paint.
He stops short when he notices me, and he stares back at me as if he’s trying to make sure that I’m real.
I look at him, take in the ruffle of his hair that looks longer than the last time I saw it, and his fuller beard. He’s wearing a black long-sleeved T-shirt, cream joggers, and my God, is he handsome.
Those bright blue eyes the color of the sea stare back at me, and in them I find my soul. I realize in that moment that I gave this man all of me.
“You’re here.” His gentle caress of a voice sounds so freaking amazing to my ears.
“Yes. I hope it was okay that I—”
“It’s more than okay.” He sets the paint can down and walks up to me like his mission is to take me in his arms and keep me there. I wish he would, but he stops a breath away and reaches out to touch my face.
I offer him a small smile and glance at the sculpture. “This is beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as my wife. The woman behind the inspiration.”
“Really? Because this is one hell of a masterpiece.”
