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“So, ready for this adventure together?” He asked softly.
I smiled up at him, leaning in until our foreheads touched gently.
“As long as we’re together, I’m ready for anything.”
And I meant it with my whole heart. This town, these people, this man - they were my home now. And I would never take that for granted again. Wherever our journey led, I knew Dylan would be my constant.
As he drew me close, his lips finding mine in a tender promise, I sighed into the kiss, perfectly content. The curtains swished as a breeze drifted in through the open window. I caught a trace of briny air - a reminder of the wild, beautiful Pacific that had led me here to this new life.
I smiled against Dylan’s lips, joy, and gratitude growing in me. However unexpected the path, I had found my way home.
Epilogue
I stood in the middle of the garage-turned-construction zone, breathing in the smells of sawdust and wet paint. It was barely recognizable as the small, cluttered space I had first seen when I started dating Dylan. It was completely transformed - walls knocked down, smooth concrete floors, and brand new track lighting installed overhead. Dylan and Ethan were busy at work, debating whether to use a cantilever or a lintel for the big window they were installing. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at their serious discussion of architectural terms they had clearly just picked up from some YouTube tutorial. Their budding expertise was endearing, even if they tossed the terminology around a bit haphazardly.
In the three months since I’d moved into his house, Dylan had fully embraced my dream of turning the garage into an art studio. He knew how much it would mean for my creative process to have a dedicated space. And his endless encouragement gave me confidence that I could establish myself as Pebble Point’s up-and-coming artist.
I admired as Dylan easily hoisted a big wooden beam onto his shoulder, his muscles flexing beneath his faded t-shirt. It still amazed me that after everything we had been through, here we were living together in his cozy cottage by the sea. When we first met, I never could have imagined that our fake engagement would lead to such a real and profound relationship. But over this past year, we had grown incredibly close, and eventually it just made sense for me to move in.
Now Dylan was converting his garage into an art studio, just for me. It was no small undertaking, yet he had enthusiastically embraced my dream of having a dedicated, creative space. As I glanced around at the half-finished walls, I could already envision it - my easels, canvases, and shelves stocked full of paints and brushes. A space designed just for my artistic needs.
“A little to the left, I think,” I suggested, as Dylan positioned the heavy beam. Ethan nodded, bracing it steady so Dylan could secure it properly. I loved seeing them work together, their easy camaraderie borne of a lifelong friendship.
Dylan turned and gave me a playful wink, his face flushed from the exertion. “Anything for you and your art, Avery.” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction at their progress. He knew how much it would mean to my creative process to have this dedicated studio. And his constant encouragement gave me confidence that I could establish myself as an artist here in Pebble Point.
As I looked around the half-finished space, I realized just how much had changed in a year. Back then, I had felt so desperate and alone, turning to a fake engagement with Dylan as my last hope of avoiding the life my parents had planned for me. Now here I stood, in the home we shared, pursuing my passion. The expectations and pressures from my family were long behind me. Everything perfectly aligned with my dreams.
Lost in thought, I was startled when a sprinkle of sawdust rained down on me. I glanced up to see Dylan drilling overhead, securing a beam across the ceiling.
“Heads up!” he called out playfully. I squealed and covered my hair, laughing as more sawdust cascaded down. Soon, we were all chuckling at the mess.
“Alright, you two, enough playing around,” Ethan chided in his usual deadpan tone. “These windows won’t install themselves. Back to work!”
Still grinning, Dylan leaned in to kiss me quickly before grabbing his tools again. The easy affection between us had only continued growing deeper. And now we had this whole exciting new chapter ahead of us, building my dream art studio together.
I stood before my canvas, palette in hand, trying to focus on the painting taking shape despite the energetic construction surrounding me. I had cleared a small corner of the garage-turned-studio, just enough space for my easel and a table for my paints. It wasn’t ideal, but I was determined to keep working on my new coastal landscape series while Dylan and Ethan built out the rest of the space.
The pounding of hammers and whirring of power tools provided an energetic, if distracting, backdrop as I dipped my brush into the cerulean blue. With careful strokes, I captured the meeting of sea and sky along Pebble Point’s rugged shoreline. This piece was one of several I was preparing for my upcoming solo exhibition at the Pebble Point Gallery. Marco was giving me the honor of a feature exhibition. I felt both thrilled and nervous.
Just then, a loud curse rang out over the sounds of construction. I glanced over to see Dylan shaking his hand ruefully after smacking his thumb with the hammer. Ethan just chuckled and handed him a rag.
“This DIY thing is not as easy as those YouTube videos make it seem,” Dylan grumbled.
I had to stifle a giggle as I turned back to my painting. Seeing Dylan pushing himself outside his comfort zone to build this space for me was endearing.
Trying to regain my focus, I mixed more cerulean with a touch of white, lightening the blue just to capture the sea foam kissing the rocky outcroppings. As I swept the color across the textured canvas, I fell into an easy rhythm - my brushstrokes keeping time with the hammers’ steady pounds.
This piece was coming together nicely. I stepped back to take it all in. The contrast of the chaotic construction against the serene seascape I was creating felt symbolic. In this little corner, I could shut out the world and get lost in my art. And soon, I would have this whole studio as my creative sanctuary.
I felt Dylan’s strong arms wrap around me from behind as I stood contemplating my latest painting. His chin rested gently on my shoulder as we both regarded the half-finished seascape before us.
“This is really coming along beautifully,” he murmured. “But you know what would make it even better?”
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline I knew was coming. Dylan loved to tease me while I worked.
“Needs a raccoon,” he declared with mock authority. “Maybe chilling on that rock right there, eating some stolen art supplies.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the infamous day that pesky raccoon had barged into my studio and caused complete chaos. Leave it to Dylan to suggest adding that troublemaker to my serene painting.
