so I put it in the trunk and then headed into town.
I didn’t know where I was headed until I pulled up in front of his house. His car wasn’t in the driveway even though it was Saturday. What the hell was I going to do? Hang out on his porch until he came home? I got the painting out of the trunk and made my way up to his porch.
Was I leaving this here for him?
Why? I had made it clear there was no future for us.
But this painting spoke to something inside me that felt otherwise. The two figures in the painting weren’t images of the Adam and Meg from our pasts. They were Adam and Meg right now. I had painted it before we became something else, yet in my heart, it seemed I knew all along where I belonged.
So why had I run away from it so quickly at the first sign of trouble? When deep down, I knew that what Chelsea was showing me wasn’t real. I knew Adam. I knew the boy he was, and I was beginning to know the man he had become.
Yet I planned to go back to New York. I was leaving this behind.
So what was I doing standing on Adam’s porch with a painting that was literally my emotions on canvas?
“Jesus, I’m ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath.
I was just about to turn around and walk back to my car, painting in hand when a pair of headlights blinded me. I watched as Adam’s car pulled into Mrs.Hamilton’s driveway. He parked and turned off the engine.
He hadn’t seen me yet. His attention was fixed on the elderly woman in the passenger seat. He quickly got out of the car and hurried to open the door for his neighbor. Holding on to her, he helped her out. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, but she appeared stronger than she had the last time I saw her.
I felt a pang of guilt over the fact that I hadn’t been to see her since Adam and I...what? Split up?
They slowly made their way to her front porch, and he unlocked the door, ushering her inside. Soon every light blazed downstairs, just as she liked it.
I thought about going to help him, but I knew Mrs. Hamilton would be tired, so I thought it best not to intrude. I sat down on the steps, just as he had done at my house days before, and I waited. Twenty minutes later, I saw him come out of the front door and make his way to his house. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped at the screen.
A few seconds later, my phone vibrated. I looked down at the message and couldn’t help smiling.
I need to see you. Please call me.
He was only a few feet away and still didn’t know I was there. I stood up, slipping my phone in my pocket. “I needed to see you too,” I said softly, though I might as well have shouted. Adam startled, jumping back almost afoot.
“Fucking hell, Galloway, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I doubled over, holding my stomach, howling with laughter. “Your face was priceless!” I wheezed, trying to get my breath.
“Such a comedian.” He chuckled, cocking his head to the side. “Did you learn how to teleport? How did you get over here so fast?”
“I was already here,” I admitted.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked so much like the boy he used to be. “I was going to come to you. But then I got the call that Mrs. Hamilton was going to be released. They couldn’t get hold of her son, big surprise. Otherwise, it would have been me waiting at your door.”
“You had to take care of Mrs. Hamilton. She needed you.”
He walked closer until we were standing practically toe to toe. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. He always made me feel delicate, dainty even, like he was my big, awesome protector, whether I wanted him to be or not.
“Are you going back to New York?” he asked without preamble.
I swallowed and looked away. “I had planned to leave this weekend.”
“This weekend,” he repeated.
I nodded. I opened my mouth to say I was pretty sure I had changed my mind. That I was tired of fighting what I was feeling. That this thing that had blossomed between us meant more than anything. That I was painting