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Authors: B.L. Berry

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Love Abstract (The Art of Falling Book 2) (33 page)

BOOK: Love Abstract (The Art of Falling Book 2)
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I look at him, my mouth agape and forget how to breathe. After everything we've been through, after how horribly I've treated him, after all of our mistakes and hurt and healing ...

It's me that he still wants.

“I know we have a lot to work through, and I know it won’t be easy, but I am absolutely certain that I was put on this Earth for you and you only.”

Phoenix reaches up and pulls down the third ivory crane and places it in my palm. The weight is slightly heavier than the previous two and he gestures me to open it.

I pull the seams of the paper apart with my thumbs. Inside the slip of paper is a stunning oval ruby ring lined with tiny sparkling diamonds. The center stone is a rich crimson and when it catches the light, it flickers, reminding me of a beating heart. I look down at the slip of paper to see Phoenix's handwriting.

 

Only you. It's only ever been you.

 

My heart is bursting and my mind simply cannot process everything fast enough. I swallow down a deep breath and my body begins to shake. Phoenix takes the ring and grabs both of my hands in one of his. The panic and excitement must be palpable.

“Ivy ... this isn't a proposal.
Yet
.” A strange combination of relief and sadness wash over me as Phoenix takes the ring and slips it onto the ring finger of my right hand. It fits perfectly. He lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss into my knuckles.

“Thank you,” I say stunned. But it barely comes out as an audible whisper and I can’t even hear my words over the beating of my heart inside my ears.

His eyes study my face with seriousness. “When the day comes that you’re ready to take the next step with me …
if
it ever comes … I want you to take this ring off and give it back so I can put it on your left hand where we both know it belongs. But I want that day to be after you've read the truths written on each and every last one of these cranes. Because not all of it is puppies and kittens and rainbows in the fold. The real me has some ugliness to it … things I don’t like talking about. But I want you to know everything from my past so we can have an unshakable foundation for the future. Then, and only then do I want you to decide if you want me for the long haul.
I
know we have that once in a lifetime kind of love. I just want you to know it, too.”

I look back to him and swallow hard, nodding slowly in agreement.

We both look above us and I sense just how long it must have taken him to not only think of and write down three thousand things, but also to fold three thousand cranes.

“But if you ever decide that a future with me is not what you want—and I understand that that
could
happen—I still want you to keep this ring. Because this ring is yours, it has always been yours. And even if you decide you can’t keep me in your life, I want, no … I
need
you to keep this piece of me.”

Through my tears, the ring sparkles vibrantly. I throw my arms around his middle and he clutches me tightly. As beautiful as this ring is, it pales in comparison to the beauty of his words.

Phoenix lowers his lips to my ear. “I love you more than anyone has ever loved you before and I'm serious when I say I want nothing less than an eternity with you, Ivy.”

I love this man fiercely. He would do anything to be my everything. And I would do the same for him. I would happily take a hundred bad days with him than one single good day with anyone else.

But his words aren’t the only ones that need to right this wrong I’ve created between us.

Phoenix pulls back to look at me and cups my chin in his hand, gently running his thumb over the side of my jaw. He slowly starts to lean in and I close my eyes…

“Stop,” I breathe.

I want to kiss him.
God
, do I want to do more than kiss him right now! I know all could be forgiven with the single touch of our lips, but the only thought running through my head is how I am such a raging, horrid bitch. He was probably suffering much more than me, and the last thing I deserve in this world is this selfless, tender man standing in front of me handing his unwavering love over on a silver platter.

Phoenix’s forehead creases in confusion and a pained look floods his eyes.

“I owe you an apology. Before anything, please … just let me talk …” I bring my hands to his shoulders. “Nearly everything I’ve ever done in my life has been motivated by pain. And hate. And sometimes even self-loathing. I have a tendency to run away from things when they get tough and overreact with anger over things that can’t be changed.” I give him a knowing look after those words leave my mouth.

“And yet through it all … there you stand. Picking up the pieces … literally. You demonstrate more patience than I deserve. And for whatever reason, you still manage to love me in spite of all my horrifying imperfections.”

It’s true, I have been nothing but horrible to him because that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I know. That isn’t an excuse, but I need him to realize and understand that every single one of my relationships has been nothing more than a painful act of self-preservation.

“I’m not the same woman I was a few months ago. Working through twenty-three years of pain changed me.
You
changed me. And even after seeing me at my worst and lowest points of my life, you still find it in you to love me. And for that, I love you. Thank you for not giving up on me. You’ve shown me that pain isn’t the only thing that changes you. Love does, too.”

And shit … do I love this man.

I could say that I’d be nothing without him, but that’d be a lie. I simply don’t want to be anything without him.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you out before. I just … the only thing I could focus on was the hurt and I reacted the only way I knew how at that moment. I know you would never do anything to deliberately hurt me. “

The corners of Phoenix’s mouth twitch upward in a subtle smile and he takes my hands off his shoulders, holding them tightly as if they are his lifeline. “Promise me you’ll actually be open to talking things out and having those difficult conversations because I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes are intense and I know he is capable of seeing through any exterior that I wear. I slowly nod, agreeing to his request.

“And no more untruths or omissions from me.
Ever,
” he adds. His lips part, beaming down at me and I give him a small, cautious smile. “I’m sor—”

“Oh just shut up and kiss me, Phoenix.”

I grab his face firmly in my hands and pull him toward me, my lips crashing into his hungrily. The instant we connect, a moan crawls from the depths of his chest and he welcomes me, his body melting into mine. His right hand runs through my hair and holds the back of my head as his left hand pulls my body closer to him.
He pours every ounce of love he has into that single kiss and accepts every breathless moment I give him. He kisses me in a way that he’s never kissed me before.

We finally come up for air, lips swollen and chests panting. The look on his face tells me everything I’ve known all along.

This man is mine.

Whole-heartedly.

“Happy tears?” he asks softly as he pulls a linen handkerchief from his pocket and brings it to the corner of my eye.

“The happiest.” I laugh softly under my breath. “I’ll never understand why you love me the way you do,” I whisper, shaking my head in disbelief. The fates have kept us together.

He leans down to kiss me tenderly. At that moment, with Phoenix before me under a sky of origami cranes, I realize that art is
exactly
like love. It is all in the eye of the beholder. Every moment is open to interpretation, and every person sees and feels something completely different and beautiful. Each day, thousands of people walk the hallways of The Met and every last one of them takes away something different.

I’d wanted to start my life over, to paint over the canvas and create something new, but I had it all wrong. Just because you paint over the canvas doesn’t mean the original piece no longer exists. It’s still there, you just can’t see it.

Just like the scars of our past.

They make us who we are. The memory of their pain simply molds us into a new work of art. And it doesn’t make the masterpiece any less beautiful.

In fact, it makes it perfect.

 

 

EIGHT MONTHS, THREE WEEKS AND four days.

That is how long it took me to read, understand and absorb each one of the three thousand cranes.

Some truths were simple.

 

When you

re not around, I like to sing in the shower. More specifically, I like to sing It Takes Two by Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock. I can rock the shit out of the one-man duet.

 

Others were a bit tougher to digest.

 

One time I was dared to secretly videotape myself having sex with a girl I met at a party. She never knew, and I have no idea what happened to the tape. I

ll never be able to run for office (not that I

d want to).

 

And a few were downright painful to read.

 

When I was seventeen, I was so upset over my parents

divorce and angry with my Dad for trying to fix things that I tried to kill myself with prescription drugs. My mom found me and saved my life in more ways than one. When I woke up, she helped me understand just how much I had to live for.

 

Needless to say, we had our fair share of late night discussions. Some of them were heavy, but for the most part it was one of the most eye-opening and healing experiences I’ve ever had. I never would have guessed he went through a scarily rebellious stage as a teenager. Or that Annie was the girl who helped him get his shit back on track. I got to know Phoenix on a level that no one else came close to.

And when I read the final crane saying that he firmly believes toilet paper should always go under and
not
over the top, I knew I had met my match. I look to my left and smile at the roll hanging on the side of the stall. According to Phoenix, it’s loaded incorrectly, so I pull it out from the holder and reverse the roll.

“Are you almost done in there, Ivy?” I shift uncomfortably on the toilet seat and look at black and white checkerboard tiles on the floor. It’s a little too early in the morning for Rachel to exhibit this much enthusiasm.

“Good Lord, give me a damn moment, woman! I haven’t even had a chance to pee yet,” I bark through the stall door.

I take a calming breath in what will likely be my last moment of solitude for a while. Admittedly, it feels kind of nice.

A few minutes later, I emerge and step up to the bathroom mirror and take a calming breath.

“You look absolutely beautiful. Simply glowing from the inside out.”

“You think?”

My best friend nods at me in appreciation.

I thought I’d feel more nervous today. Don’t most brides panic on their wedding day? However, all I feel is comfort with a hint of excitement.

Phoenix wanted a traditional wedding. But when I got him to consider what really matters in a wedding day, he got on board with my idea.

And that was just last week.

I knew I wasn’t a huge celebration with the big church and four hundred person celebration kind of bride. I’m fairly certain that if I were to enter a church these days, lightning would strike and burn the place down in my presence, and I’m not sure I want that on my conscience. So when I talked him down off that ledge, his only prerequisite quickly turned into having both of our fathers here. After two quick phone calls, everything fell perfectly into place. Of course, when Rachel found out she invited herself along for the ride. Brock, too. After the Sleeping Shadows show wrapped, I couldn’t quite shake him from my life. Because of his success at the gallery, he was commissioned by a design firm to create custom pieces for some of their Fortune 500 clients. He deemed me his lucky charm and gave me one final pet name: Magically Delicious. Phoenix cringes every time he calls me that but it makes me laugh.

I touch up my lipstick and slip the tube into the pocket of my gray chiffon dress. It’s the same dress I wore at my birthday dinner. The one Phoenix picked out.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

I take a deep breath and give my best friend a tight hug. She sniffles in my ear.

“Don’t you dare start crying. You’ll make me ruin my mascara.”

“I won’t, Bitch Tits.”

She squeezes me a little tighter and we share one final single girl laugh. I’m secretly amazed that we both made it to this moment in one piece.

Rachel wipes her cheeks and opens the door. I beam brightly at my dad who is waiting for me on the other side. Rachel kisses my cheek and skips down the hall and before disappearing behind a closed door.

“You ready?” He looks handsome in his charcoal suit. But more importantly, he looks genuinely happy. I melt when I see a single tear escape his eye at the sight of me.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I hook my arm in his.

He hands me a simple but colorful bouquet full of white lilies tucked with pastel paper cranes before leading me down the hallway, then turns to face me.

BOOK: Love Abstract (The Art of Falling Book 2)
2.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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