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Franky cleared his throat. I wasn’t the only one overcome by the moment, by how symbolic it was, by how long it took us to get here.
“‘And lastly,’” he continued. “‘I need a sign. A literal and figurative sign. Something that’ll hang on the wall of my art-bar and at the back of my mind at all times. What should it say, Franky? I’ve got a few ideas, but I haven’t settled on one yet. I’ll give you a few options I’ve had bouncing around in my head, and I want you to choose. You get to choose because this dream will be as much yours as it is mine. I want you to help me craft it with your bare hands. I want you to help me make my dreams come true. Will you do that for me, Franky? I know you will, so you get to choose. Surprise me.’”
He looked at me through damp eyes before reading the letter’s closing, as if he’d read it so many times it was now etched onto his brain. “‘Love, Leelee Bear.’”
“Fuck, I was young,” I said, downplaying the written thoughts of my twenty-five-year-old self because this moment was too much to shoulder. Too big to experience. And because somewhere in that art studio was a sign made up of words he’d chosen, and I was afraid seeing it would obliterate the final wall protecting my heart from him. Afraid to learn that wall had been obliterated a long time ago.
“You were beautiful,” he said. “You still are.”
I blew out a shaky breath as the sight of him grew blurry. I wanted desperately to blink away my tears, but my eyes were too full of them for that now. One blink and they would stream down my cheeks.
“Turn around, Leland,” he said hoarsely.
“I can’t,” I said.
“Be brave, Leelee Bear.”
So I did. I stood and carefully twisted to the wall behind my stool, lifting my chin to read the elegant letters carved into the sign hanging high above. “Maybe one day we can both be daisies,” I said, tears tumbling down. It was my favorite of the three options I’d given him in the letter, because not only was it something he’d said to me before, it was my way of begging him to choose me. My way of reminding him that we had plans to be great together.
It still spoke to us, but now it would also speak directly to every person who’d step foot into this room. It saidyou and I are in this together. No matter who else is in this space, it’s just you and me.It saidI’m just as scared as you, but together we could all be daisies.
Franky cupped my cheeks, wiping away the wetness there.
“When did you have time to do all of this?” I asked.
“I worked around the clock on it before coming to New York. I’d intended it to be a Christmas gift but quickly realized you wouldn’t have been receptive to it. So I waited, which gave me time to add more pieces.”
“Thank you,” I said with every part of me.
“You’re more than welcome, Leland.”
I gripped his wrists, rubbing circles along the undersides as we stared into each other. “I haven’t painted in years. I might not know how to anymore.”
“So you’ll practice. Every day and every night, with me by your side, you’ll remember how,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, then his expression turned conflicted. “What is it?”
“I want to call in my last truth.”
“Your what?” I asked.
“I once beat you in a game of pool, and my prize was three truths. I got to ask three questions, and you’d have to tell me the truth. I still have one left.”
I licked my lips nervously. No matter what he asked, I’d have to give him unfiltered honestly. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Years,” he said, voice trembling under the weight of that one word and the wasted time it conveyed.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve passed the expiration date on that,” I said, and he chuckled. “Ask me anyway.” I steadied myself for whatever would come next.
“Where do you see yourself in five years, Leland?”
I groaned. “Not this question again.”
“Answer me,please,” he said seriously, his eyes roaming my face anxiously. I placed a palm over his chest, feeling his frantic heartbeat under my fingertips.
“Why stop there?” I asked. “Why not half a century?”
“How about several millennia?” he whispered.
