She chuckled softly. Of course, he would always bring it back to architecture. It was his job and his life.
When he looked at the pictures, he saw only well-constructed buildings, a beauty that few others could really appreciate.
Where he saw the beauty of a well-crafted building, she saw only memories— memories of a past that she had left behind after boarding the plane to New York.
Such a sharp, determined decision had changed everything.
“Hey, you,” he said, turning to face her. “Come here.”
She walked up to him, not hesitating for a second. “Yes?”
“I really am glad you’re back,” he said, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into a hug.
“Me, too,” she whispered against his chest.
She loved the feel of his arms around her. It felt like home. It felt like the only home she had ever known…the only one she had ever chosen. It was comfortable and relaxing, and she could have laid her head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, all day.
Just when she was getting comfortable, he pulled back and stared down into her face, memorizing every inch of it like a blueprint. “So, why those two pictures?”
he asked softly, bringing her out of her reverie.
She knew she had to answer him, and she figured she had a response. Taking a deep breath, she answered him, “Because they are the memories I want to remember from my time in Italy.”
He nodded, not needing to ask anything further. She figured he could guess that they had something to do with Marco. He would forever be intrinsically linked with Milan to her. The memories were not something Adam would ever want to know about, and she was glad that he didn’t push it.
“You know,” he began, staring back up at the picture like he was trying to find the answers hidden within the still frames. “I found out how you got those tickets.”
“What?” she asked, surprised by the change in direction. He must be talking about the tickets to Marco’s grand opening. She had never discovered their origin. “How did you find out? They were dropped off at my front door.”
“I know. I didn’t really believe you at the time, but I found out that you were right,” he said, looking a bit sheepish.
“Of course, I was right. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that,” she told him. Oh, those tickets were the key to her ending up in Italy!
“Sorry. It didn’t seem very plausible at the time,” he admitted.
“Well, who sent them, and how did you find out?” she demanded, curiosity getting the better of her.
“John,” he said, glancing into her green eyes for the shock that immediately registered there.
Her stomach felt a bit queasy. She couldn’t believe what he had just said.
How? Why? What the… “Apparently, the big deal that he had negotiated with Global was for Marco’s clothing line to come to New York, and the designer gave him two complimentary tickets as a thank you of sorts.”
That son of a bitch! She wasn’t sure if she could form coherent sentences because she was so furious. Of all the f**king people to gain her access to Marco Moretti, it had to be the one person that she despised for his very existence in her life. Stupid, f**king hot, tattooed man!
Why the hell did he send her tickets?
Hadn’t he done enough damage?
“He told me that he would have given them to you in person, but you were out, and he had a flight to catch. He wanted to apologize, and I guess this was the only way he knew how. Not sure how he knew you wanted to be at that opening.”
Because she had told him…or at least told him about how she wanted to model.
She couldn’t believe this. She just couldn’t.
She knew that she should be happy with John. He had given her the means to model in Italy all through his supposed apology, but she just couldn’t be happy with him. Not only had he ruined her relationship once by kissing her at the Hookah Lounge, he had then sent her the very tickets, introducing her to Marco, that forced the untimely destruction of her relationship a second time. Unforgivable!
She didn’t care what his supposed intentions were. All she cared was what had happened because of his interference.
“Pretty nice thing for John to do to apologize. He didn’t have to give those tickets to you and look at the direction it took your life. You got a job modeling in Italy,” Adam said, trying to sound more excited than he had two months ago when she had suggested the opportunity.
Stop it! She didn’t want to hear about how nice he was! He was disgusting, a pig, the scum of the universe! What kind of guy hits on his brother’s girlfriend?
Terrible kinds!
She wanted to hate him! She didn’t want to think that…perhaps he was actually a nice guy who had made a mistake. She didn’t want to think about him apologizing. Then, that would just be one more thing that she had gotten wrong and one more thing that she would have to change her perspective on.
No, she was determined that he was a bad guy. He saw what he wanted and took it. Plain and simple. None of this apologizing. Nothing more than a set up.
“At the time, he said to me, ‘Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.’ It’s an Oscar Wilde quote. Kind of stuck with me.”
Chyna shook her head. She didn’t want to think about him or his Oscar Wilde quotes. She didn’t care that they made sense.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” she said, knowing she was being short with Adam.
“Alright. I just thought you would want to know.”
She didn’t, but she didn’t say that. She didn’t have to. It was written all over her face.
“Forget I said anything then,” he said, drawing her close to him again.
She wanted to forget, but she knew she wouldn’t, not now.
“I’m just happy to be here. Whatever that means,” he said, finding her hand and circling his thumb against her palm.
“What does that mean?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Whatever you want. What do you want?”
So many things—a modeling career, for one . But, she couldn’t have that now, and she realized the only other thing she had ever wanted that much was standing directly in front of her. She knew the answer to his question then.
“You. I just want you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms up around his neck.
His smile was contagious, and she found herself mirroring his goofy grin.
“That’s convenient.”
“Why?” she asked, unable to drop her smile even if she had tried.
“Because I want you, too.”
Her heart skipped a beat as everything came into focus. She had gone through a lot to get to this moment, and it was incredibly perfect just the way it was. She knew that there would be things that would linger with her—John, Marco, modeling—that she couldn’t control. The only thing she could control was where she would go from here.
“I told you before you left that I would miss you, and I meant every word. It wasn’t the same without you in my life.
I’m sorry I pushed you out of it,” he told her, staring down into her face.
“I’m sorry I let you,” she whispered.
Adam bent forward, brushing his nose against hers before letting his lips fall on hers. His kiss was sweet and full of apologies for their time apart. She wanted to tell him that it was okay…that everything was okay now. She was back.
She wished they could just pick up where they had left off, but maybe it was better that they couldn’t. Leaving Italy had changed her, and she liked herself better for having done it. For having gone and done something great, and came back to find him still there.
Chyna’s heart hadn’t known what it wanted. It wasn’t even been able to process what she was feeling.
She just kept finding herself repeating the same mistakes over and over again.
But, it was going to stop. She couldn’t keep avoiding intimacy with the one person she truly wanted it with. All the other guys had been temporary flings, forgettable. Even the ones who had stayed with her long after were only shadows of this feeling right now. She had pursued them out of a thought that they were the kind of guy she wanted or even needed, he r type, but she had been wrong. They couldn’t hold a flame to this.
Yet, what was she feeling? What had she felt that day that she and Adam had mutually broken up? Her world had been shattered, and she had been devastated. It felt like her like her life was imploding, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. It was like she was being held underwater, struggling to break free. She could think of a thousand different agonizing scenarios, and none of them were as bad as when her heart had broken.
And, none were as good as him sewing it back together.
“Adam,” she said, curling her finger around the hairs at the nape of his neck.
“Yeah,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She knew. She knew then.
“I love you,” she told him.
It was the first time she had ever said it to anyone, and she meant every word.
That was what she had been feeling all along, and she just had never stopped long enough to realize it. She had never felt it before, and when it had taken up foreign residence in her heart, she had been scared of the new emotions it elicited out of her. But, being with him now…she just knew.
“I knew that all along,” he said with a smile. “I love you, too.”
Their lips met, washing away the aches and pain of their past. They knew the road ahead would hold many more trials of their love. But today, they were content with their reunion—with the knowledge of reciprocated love.
Chyna knew then that although they had gone through much to reach their destination, the journey had only brought them closer. And, in the end, she had found him.
He was the one she had to go through all the jerks to find.
He was her end game.
The End