She pushes her shoulders back. “It took a young woman hugging me while I cried in the remnants of my kitchen after I had been nothing but rude to her for me to realize I had misjudged Tanya. She couldn’t have been so bad if she had a hand in raising you.”
Wow. I wasn’t expecting her words or her genuine expression. “Well, in that case, I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” She smiles.
Throughout the night, I’m handed swatches of sandpaper from the people I hold dear. I’ve collected so many that my clutch is about to pop. Another swatch appears in front of me and when I turn to find the presenter, it’s none other than Micah.
“May I have this dance?” he asks.
“Of course.” We glide onto the dance floor, staring into each other’s eyes while Janessa Howard strums a beautiful melody on her violin. “If you had told me at the beginning of the night that my purse would be filled with sandpaper, I wouldn’t have believed you.” The swatch he gave me is still in my hand, pressed against his shoulder.
He smirks. “I just wanted you to have a reminder of who your sandpaper is. But I still like a good, jagged edge.”
I’m learning to like them too. They’ve gotten me here, after all.
Once the auction portion is over, the gallery is open for people to walk through and observe or buy pieces.
Micah managed the gallery portion of the night, so he handled the final walkthrough. Now, I can just sit back and enjoy the art with Micah’s hand in mine. As I’m walking through the rows of paintings, I’m stunned speechless by a new one.
It’s the portrait Micah started of me years ago, finally finished. It’s titledThe Art of Loving You.
He wraps his arm around my waist and I melt into him. “Just so you know, the video we made isn’t for sale,” Micah whispers in my ear.
I spin around so I can look him in the face. “Micah, I—” I cut myself off.
“It’s calledThe Art of Loving Youbecause loving you is an art form in its own right. And I do love you. I need you to know that. You don’t have to say it back. In fact, I don’t want you to. I want to keep earning it.”
I get choked up on my words, but I manage to push them out. “You don’t mind that I’m not ready?” It’s not because I don’t feel it, but because I’m not ready to voice it.
“Nope. You take your time because whenever you get to the finish line, I’ll be there waiting for you.”
I kiss him so deeply that people around us start to cheer.
Epilogue
Dani
THE UNMISTAKABLE SMELL OF PANCAKES DRIFTS TO MYbedroom.
Is my dad here?
I rush out to the kitchen to find the man who has been teaching me a thing or two about letting go. Micah flips another pancake, silently celebrating as it lands perfectly in the pan.
I can’t hide my laughter, causing him to spin around.
The smile when he sees me is one I never get tired of. I love the way he looks at me.
“Hey, Storm,” he says, holding the pan away from us as he leans in for a kiss.
“Good morning. What you doing here so early?”
“I know Veronica got the part in her play, so I figured pancakes were in order.”
My heart squeezes at his thoughtfulness.
He pulls a chair out for me to sit down and then places a stack of pancakes in front of me. They smell amazing. I cut into them, smiling to myself, and then shove a bite in my mouth. My jawdrops. These aren’t just pancakes, they’re my dad’s pancakes. “How did you do this?”
“What, you think I’d give you bootleg pancakes?”
