could hurt me. I know you could change your mind. But, if that’s the price to pay for all the inspiration and magic I get from you, it’s a chance I’m willing to take. If that means waiting here until we can leave together, I’ll do it. If that means, signing a record deal I don’t want, I’ll do it. I choose you. But I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do.” He walks around the bed and comes to stand directly in front of me.
“I’m not going to share you. Or settle for pieces of you. I know this is where you grew up, but I don’t believe it’s your home, any more than it is mine. I can’t force you to see that or believe that. And this weird thing with Duke, pretending to be with him, I don’t want that. I won’t have that. The ball is in your court, Beth.”
He smiles, but otherwise doesn’t react except for to cup my face in his big warm hands and press a kiss to my lips.
It’s a gentle kiss, but just like everything between us - every conversation, every touch - it’s as deep as a hundred oceans. My soul sighs in relief as clarity comes, floating like a feather as it knocks me on my ass.
I know he’s right. The gun to my head isn’t in charge. I’ve already made my choice. My heart knows it, and now it’s time he does, too.
32
BLUE
CARTER
“I want to show you something,” Beth takes my hand and leads me down the hall. I know where we’re going without her having to say. There’s a serenity in her posture that I’ve never seen before and I lose all of the frustration that our earlier conversation created with each step we take.
The only indication that she’s feeling anything other than peace is the way her hand grows damp with sweat and how she tightens her hold on my wrist to keep it from slipping away.
She doesn’t know that I’d follow her anywhere. That she could let go and I would still be right here. I don’t even know how it happened and why, but this woman is everything to me. She’s so much more than a muse and a lover – knowing her has made me braver, given me hope when I haven’t had the right to any. And even though I know the higher this feeling takes me, the more it will hurt when it’s over, I want it. All of it.
Like I want all of her.
She opens the door to the room at the end of the hall and we walk in. She flips the switch on the wall and then lets go of my hand.
I am rendered speechless.
On the wall right wall, taking up almost the entirety of it, is the most riveting painting I’ve ever seen. I walk closer, my heart expanding with every step I take.
“Is that supposed to be me?” I ask, completely stunned by what she’s done.
“Yes…can you really not tell?” She comes to stand next to me.
“Is that what I look like?”
“Carter, you own a mirror. You know.”
“No, I don’t know myself like this.” I say, and reach a tentative hand out to touch the face of the man on the wall.
“Well, its’s how you look when you’re singing,” she says quietly.
She’s drawn me at the piano. My eyes are closed, my face turned skyward, my mouth open. I look so at peace. I recognize the expression because it’s what I feel when I sing. I’m dressed in a white t-shirt, dark jeans and my tattoo, the one dedicated to my father is perfectly rendered. My fingers are on the keys of a bright blue piano that’s surreal and yet so perfect. The music rises up in a cloud of blue clover the same color as the piano and clusters into…
“Oh my God. It’s you.” I gasp and turn to her wide-eyed. She’s watching me with a wide smile on her face. It’s as bright and golden as the midday sun.
What the hell did I ever do to deserve her?
“Yes…your music makes me feel like that.”
She’s drawn herself in blue, not the same as the piano – it’s brighter, lighter, but just as vibrant. She has wings, gold, intricately laced ones. Them and the C over her heart are the only other colors on her body, but it’s her face I see so clearly. She looks like she’s ready to go to battle, and she