In the first painting on display, she’s standing alone on a beach illuminated in soft sunlight as she looks out at the tranquil water. In the next, she’s seated on the edge of a bed, as serene and protective as an angel while she watches over a sleeping little girl.
The third is a painting I almost didn’t allow the gallery to have tonight. In it, Melanie is bared from the waist up, her face tilted away from the viewer with her long red hair flowing down the elegant length of her back in a fiery cascade.
Each of them means something different to me, three different facets of an infinitely intriguing, extraordinary woman. A woman I was fortunate to have in my life for a brief moment, and too unworthy to keep.
“Quite the turnout, my friend.” Dominic Baine steps up to me with Avery on his arm. He’s wearing a dark suit, holding a glass of champagne. Avery glows in a black cocktail dress that sets off her green eyes and golden blond hair.
“I think half the New York art world is here,” she adds, lifting up to kiss my cheek. “Congratulations, Jared. Your paintings are absolutely gorgeous. Everyone’s raving over this new direction your art has taken.”
“Thanks.” I smile at my friends, genuinely warmed by their praise. “I was glad you agreed to host me here at Dominion tonight.”
“Are you kidding?” Nick grins. “I’d have been insulted if you’d gone anywhere else.”
Avery nods. “Margot says she’s already received half a dozen eight-figure offers on the collection. You sure you’re not interested in selling any of them?”
“I’m sure.” I glance over the throng of admirers gathered around the three images of Melanie. “I could no more part with them than I could my right arm.”
As we talk, Gabe and Evelyn step in to join us. Melanie’s best friend apparently overheard my comment. “Have you called her yet, Jared?”
“No.” They all know how I’ve felt since my epic fuck-up with her. They know my planned relocation to the Hamptons and the sell-off of all my clubs and entertainment venues in the city is all in an effort to put some much-needed distance between myself and the anguish of losing Melanie. “She doesn’t want to see me, and I have to respect that.”
Eve gives me a sympathetic look. “Mel’s stubborn sometimes. She guards her heart because as tough as she’s had to be all her life, that’s the one place she’s vulnerable. She let you in, Jared. That’s not easy for her. You really hurt her.”
“I know. Damn it, I know that.” The words grate out of me, my self-loathing hardly lessened since that night at Muse. “I fucked up with her, big time.”
“Yes, you did,” Eve says. “But I don’t think you’ve lost her completely. Not yet.”
I shake my head. “I think you’re wrong. I sent her an apology tonight. It didn’t make any difference. She’s shut me out, and I don’t have anyone to blame but myself.”
Gabe frowns. “You really love her, don’t you?”
“Christ, yes. I didn’t realize how much I could need another person, but I need her. Melanie’s my light. She’s everything to me. I don’t know how I’m going to live another day without her in my life.”
My heart pounds as I let the words spill out of me. I don’t care if my friends think I’m a pathetic, lovesick idiot. Hell, that’s exactly what I am. I’ve been in a tailspin of misery for the past month. I don’t want to imagine how much worse I’ll be hurting in another month, another year. Or longer, for the rest of my days.
What’s more, I refuse to imagine that kind of pointless existence.
I can’t.
She may hate me. She may not want to see me, or hear anything I have to say, but if she thinks I’m going down without a fight, she has no clue how much she means to me.
Melanie is mine. She has been, right from the beginning. Now, I just need to convince her of that.
“I’ve gotta go.”
Eve and Avery both nod at me, their gazes soft with understanding and approval.
Nick cuffs me on the shoulder. “About time you figured that out, brother.”
Gabe nods and grins, then he glances past my shoulder and arches a brow. “Looks like you don’t have to go far.”
I wheel around and all the breath gusts out of my lungs.
It’s Melanie. She’s just arrived inside the gallery. Her hair, navy-blue T-shirt, and jeans are drenched from the rain. Her cheeks are flushed as though she just ran for a solid block. Her gorgeous blue-gray eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, as if she’s been crying.
I cut through the gathering with singular purpose, stopping just a few feet away from her. All I want to do is pull her into my embrace and never let her go.
She holds up a soggy letter, black ink dripping down her hand. “I got your note. I got your painting, too.”
Her gaze moves over the packed crowd inside the gallery, then to the wall where my paintings hang. Her eyes are already soft with emotion, but their color changes to something even more tender as she sees herself in my art.
“They’re amazing, Jared. I’m really happy for your new success.”
I take a step forward. “I’m only painting again because of you. I’ve found my true muse. The only one I need.”
She swallows. I can feel people starting to look at us. They’re looking at her, realizing she’s the mystery woman gracing these new portraits.
She stares at me, uncertainty in her gaze. “I should’ve changed into something more appropriate.”
“You look perfect.” She’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does now, soaked and breathless, just out of my reach. I take another step, removing the distance.
“I left in a hurry,” she says. “I was afraid you’d be gone soon, and I didn’t want to miss you. I wanted to thank you for my gift.”
Hope ignites inside me. My heart is banging in my chest, about
