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On Love.

On love.

On love… sapphic.

There was no denying it anymore, and the abstract sensation that had been growing since she stepped into the room became tangible. The truth of it settled in her chest, warm and solid and unmistakable. There was no denying that the woman who painted all of these portraits loved her.

A smile bloomed across her face as the last of her doubts dissolved, leaving her feeling lighter. Ali wanted her. And Ali loved her.

She lifted her gaze, heart steady now as she said with absolute certainty.

“You love me.”

43

ALI

Ali McCarthy was never a morning person. But she would never regret rearranging her schedule just to drag herself out of bed to make coffee for a woman she saw for five minutes, four days a week. A woman who would ask her on a ridiculous adventure that led to this moment. A moment where Charlotte’s joy turned luminous.

Joy never looked so good on anyone. And it was all because Ali painted a few portraits. Still, all together they did scream rather loudly.

Ali stepped a little closer, hands tucked behind her back. “What gave it away?”

Nothing could have prepared her for what unbridled joy did to Charlotte. She glowed like a star, entirely incandescent.

“I—” Charlotte began, taking a steadying breath. “I’m sorry I let so much time go by without being honest with you about how I feel.”

Ali took another small step closer.

“I’m sorry, too. But I felt it.” A mix of nervous amusement fizzed in her stomach, bubbling out of her in a quiet huff of air. “You’re very good at acts of service. And presents. And… so many other things.”

Someone called her name from across the gallery and it all came crashing back. They were in public. At her show. She needed to greet the guests, network. She shot to attention, whirling toward Leah who was by the door, motioning for her to come.

A step away and a warm hand closed around her wrist, stopping her.

“Wait, I just…” Charlotte murmured, gently regaining Ali’s attention. “Before we meet your soon-to-be adoring fans. I need you to know something.”

Ali waited, turning their hands and intertwining their fingers, grounding herself in the moment.

“I don’t want you to leave. Ever.” The words rushed out, breathless and raw, making Ali’s stomach swoop. “Residencies and art related matters excluded,” she amended. “But I want you to come home. To me. Every time.” Charlotte took a breath, stepping in and tucking loose strands behind Ali’s ears. “I want you to stay, Lina.”

Ali’s breath caught. The quartet crescendoed as if in response to the ache blooming in her chest. The world fell away until there was only Charlotte, her ocean blues shimmered with sincerity and so much honest hope. Ali’s body buzzed, humming with elation, joy, and abiding love. So much love she could fill the vast expanse of space with it.

A blink passed before they moved in tandem, pulling each other close as their lips met, sealing the moment as everything finally clicked into place. It was only a second, stolen before Leah barked Ali’s name again across the gallery.

Their hands stayed laced together most of the night. Neither letting go for long as guests and critics alike jockeyed for Ali’s attention.

By all standards, the show was a raving success.

Ali was stunned by the turnout. Leah Coleman’s name carried weight, sure; but Ali wrongly assumed people wouldn’t give two figs about some no-name artist. On the contrary, everyone seemed eager to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman Leah Coleman plucked from obscurity.

Charlotte stood steadfast beside her, never leaving her side for an instant. Ali could talk to just about anyone about anything. But after the third person asked her a barrage of questions about herself and not at all art-related, her stomach began to quiver. Charlotte would swoop in, each and every time, keeping the conversation flowing and Ali from stumbling.

“You’re just like, really impressive,” Ali stammered, rolling her eyes at herself. “I’m so very eloquent.”

“It’s alright, darling,” Charlotte replied smoothly, sipping her champagne. “It’s my sincere hope the day never comes when my beauty and intelligence cease to render you speechless.”

Just about everyone came to support her.