Chereads / A Mark at First Bite / Chapter 45 - Chapter Forty-Five: Many Apologies at Home

Chapter 45 - Chapter Forty-Five: Many Apologies at Home

Celeste:

Gathering up my pictures, Dr. Benston leaned on the door frame. Tucking everything underneath my arm, he shook my hand as I walked out of the room. Pausing in the living room, we waited with respectful silence. It was hard to believe that I was going home today, the past days had been a little rough. The beginnings of feeling okay had planted their seeds, my hands crossing. From this moment on, I would use art to channel my anxiety. It wasn't a perfect fit but it was a decent solution. A kind nurse let Novi in, his wet eyes met my loving gaze. Leaping into his arms, he spun me around. Taking in a deep breath of his scent, my fraying nerves relaxed. Setting me down, his tears soaked the top of my head. Cupping my face, his lips kissed mine feverishly. Placing me on his back, Dr. Benston waved goodbye as Novi took me to the car. Setting me down in the passenger's seat, he kissed my bump. Clipping my seat belt, he rubbed my shoulders. Plopping into the driver's seat, he dropped a big black gift box on my lap. Curiosity twinkled in my eyes, the ribbon fluttering in the breeze from the cracked window.

"This is the first of a couple of gifts. One of them is at home." He beamed with pride, feeling the fabric of my ivory sweater. "Go on, open it!" Grinning eagerly in my direction, I opened the box. My jaw dropped to the ground, the entire series of my favorite author rested in the bottom. My favorite snacks rested on the other side, his grin growing wider. Tears of joy flooded from my eyes, his love for me knew no bounds. Scanning his Navy Italian suit, I felt under dressed. Bowing my head in shame, his fingers lifted up my chin. Pressing his lips against mine sweetly, his loving gaze never left mine. Say something you idiot!

"Thank you so much." I stuttered brokenly, my hand cupping his. "I don't know what I would do without you. How did you manage to find the whole series? My parents burned mine in front of me a few years ago." Leaning my head on his shoulder, every cell of my body wanted to be near him. The drive home was quiet, but it was a good silence. Peeling into the driveway, he opened the door for me. Scooping me out of my seat, he took the box in his other hand. Carrying me upstairs, his gentle hand set me down on the bed. Hovering by a covered painting, he pulled down the sheet. Mixed emotions flashed in my face, my painting with my father hung on our wall. Covering my mouth, the tears began to flow freely. This had to be the nicest thing he had ever done, another box from Avalanche rested on the bed. Opening it up, a warm smile dawned on my face at the sight of art supplies. Jumping off the bed and into his arms, my lips locking with his passionately.

"You are amazing. Has anybody ever told you how amazing you are?" I gushed jovially, fixing his hair. "Can we get take out ton-" My eyes fell on the two pictures I sent him home with, the framed images hanging over our bed. A tender blush rose to my cheeks, embarrassment dimmed my eyes. They weren't that great, I thought to myself. Squirming out of his arms, my fingers traced the pictures. A knock interrupted my train of thought, Tammy spun in. Hugging me like her life depended on it, my arms wrapped around her shoulders. So much guilt weighed me down, my last words were rather harsh to her.

"I am so sorry for my briskness with you." I apologized sincerely, her head shaking. "I was being a bitch." Cupping my face, her kind eyes watched me struggle to meet hers. Scarlet colored my cheeks once more, my head rested on her shoulder. Her hair tickled my face, her perfume reminded me of a field of flowers. Grabbing me by the shoulders, tears stained her cheeks. Praying that everything was kosher between us, Tammy was the friend I never knew I needed.

"Don't worry about it. We all get a little tense at times." She chirped cheerfully, feeling my bump. "You are getting pretty big. Let's have a spa day tomorrow. It'll be my treat. The spa isn't that far from here and we can make it a girls day." Hearing those words stung, my lips pressing into a thin line. Sobbing softly, confusion dawned on her face. Burying my face into my palms, her sweet face kept flashing in my mind. Tammy tried to rub my shoulder, my hand slapping her away. Backing up, hurt dimmed her eyes. Waving my hands around, she froze in her spot.

"I am sorry. The spa sounds great but can you call it something else. Can you call it a fun day? Hearing those words makes me miss his mother." I pointed out desperately, attempting not to scare her friendship away. "Please stay my friend. Hold up! I have something for you." Flipping through my art, my hands settled on a picture of Tammy and her family. Ripping it out, I held it out to her. Taking it graciously, fresh tears flowed from her eyes. Using the sleeve of her rose pink blouse to wipe away her tears, she hugged it to her chest.

"I love it. I will have to get it framed." She choked out, the bed creaking as I leapt off the bed. "How did you get all of our details?" Pulling her into a warm embrace, her tears soaked my shoulders. Rubbing her back, her head nestled into the base of my neck. Was this friendship? Why did it feel so nice? So many conflicting emotions coursed through my mind, half of them battling each other.

"I am so thankful for our friendship. I don't think I have ever said that." I tripped over my words, her face softening. "I never had a friend before you. In fact, all of this is new to me. I simply want you all to know that I appreciate you all." Letting her go, she ruffled the top of my head. Smiling warmly in my direction, I couldn't help but smile back.

"You're welcome. Thank you for being my friend." She wept sweetly, wiping away her tears. "I should thank you for letting me stay here. Be ready by eight in the morning." Skipping out of our room, Novi crashed down next to me. His hand rested on my thigh, a shiver of pleasure shot up my spine. Resting his head on my shoulder, this moment felt so tender. Never wanting it to end, I guided his head to my lap. This position felt more familiar than it should have.

"You don't have to jump right back into things." He uttered gently, reaching for my hand. "How about a date night? Just you and me. I would love to take you on a moonlit picnic. How about I pack all of your favorite foods?" Taking a deep breath, I played with his hair. Smiling down at him, my heart fluttered at his offer. How did he always know what to say?

"I don't see why not." I permitted him, ultimately wondering what his job was. "How do you earn your money? I've seen your bank account and I don't understand how you have it. I feel stupid for never asking." Cupping his hand, scarlet burned his cheek. Clearing his throat, a sly grin twitched on his lips. Cocking my brow in response, my inner wolf chastised me for asking him. As a wife I did have every right to know.

"I thought you would never ask. I am an art dealer. I set up galleries for artists all over the world. Don't worry about the legality of it all." He responded with pride, kissing the top of my hand. "I think I should open a gallery for you. People would flock from everywhere to buy your art." Teardrops splashed to his face, my hands began to tremble. Hearing him say those words shattered my heart because my father had that opportunity presented to him. Wiping away my tears, the sniffles wouldn't go away.

"I don't think that I am that great." I blubbered uncontrollably, biting my lips. "I can barely hold a pencil right." Picking up my full sketchbook, he began to flip through the pages. Stopping on the picture of our hands holding each other, our wedding rings had every detail correct.

"I would call this one true love." He explained serenely, tracing the lines. "Most artists can't be this detailed. I have worked with artists my whole life and nobody measures up to your talent. It has a charming amount of rawness that art school tends to take away. I should tell you that I only work with untrained artists. The market is bigger for them. Consider a career. Let's get going. The drive will take a bit. Screw the picnic. I have something else to show you." Winking in my direction, he leapt off of my lap. Scanning the closet, he tossed me a silk navy cocktail dress. Peeling off my sweater and skirt, he helped me pull the dress over my head. Adjusting the bell sleeves, he fixed the area by my cleavage. Guilt ate at me at how much he wanted to take me, the very thought of it scaring me. Clearing his throat, he pulled me to my feet. Guiding me to his car, he opened the door for me. Helping me get into the car, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Kissing my forehead, he clipped my seat belt into place. Sliding into the driver's seat, he turned the engine on.

"So you are an art agent." I uttered simply, my heart fluttering at his wide grin. Winking in my direction, he rested his hand on his bump. Cupping his hand, both of us gasped at the flutter of kicks. Lifting his hand, his lips brushed the top of my hands tenderly.

"I suppose you could say that. It allows me to stay close to home while making the money I desire." He answered as his grin grew wider, another kiss on my hand causing me to blush harder. "Now let's get going, Celly." Peeling out of his town, the pine trees turned to cracked concrete. Anticipation bubbled in me, anxiety holding her hand as well. Time passed faster the moment he turned on the radio. Dirt crunched underneath his tires as he slowed to a halt. Opening the door for me, his hand wrapped around mine. Walking me over to an all glass building, the lights flickered on. Putting my hand up, I pressed my palm on the glass door. Golden symbols glowed to life, a golden dome throbbing to life.

"It would be best not to have any supernatural visitors." I laughed with a flirty gaze, his hand tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I love you, Novi." Hooking his elbow in mine, he unlocked the door. Pushing the button, black shades hummed into place. Pushing another button, golden light bathed the space. A myriad of pictures lined the wall, all of them were created by people like me. None of them had any art school training, the emotion could easily be felt with each stroke. So that was what he meant by feeling the emotions the artist intended to get across.

"I was wondering who these paintings came from until I saw the one in the closet. Can you confirm my suspicion?" He asked politely, wrapping his arm around my waist. "I just have to get through this door." Typing in a code, a secret door opened. What I saw made me fall to my knees, mixed emotions flashing on my face. Every single one of my father's paintings rested in dusty piles, so many questions rested on the tip of my tongue. How the fuck did he have them in his possession!

"How?" I choked out, crawling over to them. "She burned them all." Sitting down next to me, he fished through the pile and pulled out several of my paintings. Setting it down in front of me, he traced the lines of each one. Waiting with bated breath, the tale had to be told.

"My old man saved them for me. I am surprised you don't remember him. He had visited the village to make a peace treaty. Upon visiting the village, your father asked him to take the original paintings with him because he feared his death soon." He replied with tears in his eyes, the corner of his lips curling into a half-smile. "I fell in love with the girl who painted these. Each stroke felt so alive. None of the girls I dated could paint or enjoy art the way I adore it. Maybe I smelled your scent on it and couldn't let it escape my head. I often thought of selling these but I never bring myself to. I must sound like an idiot. As much of an idiot as I am, I will never sell these. Especially since I met the artist." The door opened up, golden light flooding the room. Hiding behind him, a stern lady with wild navy curls and gray eyes sauntered her way down the steel stairs.

"Hey Stella! How is it going?" He inquired with his crooked grin, her fingers tugging at the high neckline of her steel gray office dress. Panic gripped my face, my sketchbook rested in her arms. Embarrassment colored my cheeks, her stern expression softening to one of childlike wonder.

"Have you met this artist? We need to sell her stuff. Half of these alone could fetch us about a half a million dollars. Art students would die to have these skills." She gushed excitedly, dropping my sketchbook in his lap. "Get her number." A fit of laughter burst from Novi's lips, confusion dawning on our faces.

"Those are my wife's." He bragged gleefully, dragging me in front of him. "These paintings are her father's. I guess you could say that art runs in the family." Unable to look at her, her slender finger lifted up my chin. Examining my scarred face, a golden charm bracelet jingled in my ear. The fresh scent of a citrus perfume drifted up my nose, a short sniff seemed to tell a lot.

"You look like the vibes of your sketches. I was thinking we could get some Italian. Did you hear that we just earned another ten million?" She mused playfully, examining his eyes. "I want the story behind that. Chop, chop! The dinner is on me." Did she just say ten million! My eyes bulged at the sound of the number, her hand ruffling the top of my head. Holding my tongue, Novi shot me a concerned look. Flashing him a nervous grin, he took that as a yes. Jumping to his feet, he placed me on his back. Tucking my sketchbook underneath his arm, Stella waited by her town car. Helping me in, my eyes fell on the diamond encrusted necklace around her neck. Too shy to speak, no words could come to the tip of my tongue. Why was his family so fucking awesome while I must have looked like the world's biggest loser?

"Can you paint?" Stella asked me with a curious glint in her eyes, my lips pressing into a line. Swallowing the lump in my throat, she banged on the divider. Tears welled up in my eyes, the thought of painting again paralyzed me. Memories of my father teaching me at a young age flashed in my mind, silent tears flooded from my eyes. Novi flashed her a dark glare, Stella shrinking back.

"I haven't since he died. I pick up a paint brush and can't bring myself to paint. I am talented at all the other art media though." I exhaled, trying to hold back my tears. "Just ask me to do anything else and I can knock it out of the park." Glancing out the window, a sleek modern home came into view. Novi narrowed his eyes in her direction, a frustrated groan leaving his lips. Waving my hands around, I really wasn't sure what was going on.

"It's fine. Somebody would probably attack us at a restaurant." I blurted out awkwardly, attempting to prevent a fight. "You have to cook dinner for us. I refuse to cook for you." Getting out on my own, my palms pressed against the door. Golden symbols glowed to life on the sleek white surface, another dome flickering to life. Unlocking the door with a code, the glass door hissed open. Walking in, colorful lights flickered to life. Paintings lined the wall, her hand taking mine to an enormous studio. My jaw dropped at the endless sea of supplies, each hollow footstep bouncing off the wall. Selecting a large canvas, my fingers traced the line of neatly organized paint brushes. Temptation taunted me, my fingers curling around the nearest brush.

"As painful as it is for me, I will paint you a picture in exchange for dinner and a place to stay tonight. The picture will take a couple of days." I promised sincerely, spinning a brush in my fingers. "If you hear cries of rage, please ignore them. I can't be my father but I can show you everything I ever learned from him." Nodding her head in approval, Novi chose to stay behind with me. Selecting the five basic colors, I needed to get something out of my head. I had to push past my barrier, the wall that prevented me from painting had to crumble at my feet. Gearing up for several meltdowns, my head shook. Mixing my colors, Novi announced that he was about to hold my waist. Nodding in his direction, I permitted him too. Plugging my phone into the speaker, my concentration flooded directly to the canvas at hand.