Chapter 192:
Heartfelt Admissions
Megan’s POV
The atmosphere within the whole studio was silent, very silent after the buzz of activities of the past few days. Personally, I felt as if I appreciated the serenity when looking at the mural, my eyes reading the very detail. We put our hearts into it. Every brushstroke, every color, told something-a piece of the past unraveled.
The door creaked open, and Max entered, the room filling with his essence and its familiar warmth. He looked at the mural and then my way, his lips playing with a soft smile.
“H-hey, Megan,” he greeted, breaking the heavy silence.
“Hey, Max,” I answered through my smile. “I can’t believe we actually finally finished it.”
“I know,” he replied, stepping closer. “It feels surreal, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling so full up with pride and nostalgia. “We really did it.”
Max and I only got closer over months, between our equal passions for art and that journey in my grandmother’s past, which formed some kind of bond between us that neither of us could break. A kind of silent understanding passed between us, a kind of communication far beyond words.
“Megan, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” Max said, his tone more serious now.
I turned to face him, curious, a little apprehension. “What?”
He exhaled deeply in silence for a moment and then said, “I. I wanted to thank you. To have believed in me, to have let me be part of this journey. It has meant so much to me.”
“Max, you don’t have to thank me,” I said, getting filled emotionally. “You’ve been brilliant. Without you, none of this. I wouldn’t be able to get to any of this.”
He smiled, but in his eyes there was something much more profound. “There’s more to it. I mean, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and. well, I’ve realized something important.”
My heart began to race, feeling the weight behind his words. “What is it, Max?”
“I’ve realized that I love you, Megan,” he said, clearing his throat again, trying to sound as calm as possible but failing awfully to do so, because of the surge of emotions within. “I didn’t know when but it did, and someday it had to come to the surface.”
His declaration was just hanging there, in the air, a mixture of relief and vulnerability. And then, a feeling overwhelmed me, surprising and filling me with delight, yet somehow deep inside I knew it. My emotions ran rampant, swelling feelings that had been denied, couldn’t be any longer in the face of his admission.
“Max,” I began, my voice shaking. “I-I love you, too. This feeling has been inside me for quite a long time, though I have always been too scared to blurt it out. I just never wanted to ruin what we had going on.”
He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “You could never ruin it, Megan. If anything, this just makes it stronger.”
We just stood there, the mural as a quiet but vulnerable witness to our admissions, yet it felt almost as if it were the walls holding our secrets, our hopes, and our dreams.
Max reached out and took my face in his hands, looking deeply into my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered, the warm breath from his words brushing over my skin.
And he kissed me then, softly and passionately, like all those words that held silent between us were to settle with this one act of his. It was like that; a kiss that promised new beginnings, a future anchored on the foundation of the journey we both undertook.
When we finally had to stop to take a breath, I just felt at peace and content; this was right, this was where I was supposed to be.
“I love you, Max,” I repeated, this time with more strength in my voice.
“I love you too, Megan,” he replied, his eyes radiating with joy.
We had so many shared dreams and hopes rolling about with our mouths. The conversation just seemed to stretch, filled with all manner of laughter and teardrops, but there was one good thing we actually knew -we had this.
As the night wore on, we ventured outside of the studio to a small bench not too far away, the cool bite of the night bringing contrast to the comforting warmth we were experiencing. We sat there hand in hand, looking up at the stars.
“It is just too good to be true,” he ventured incredulously.
“No, it is,” I agreed. “And I cannot wait to see where this journey takes us next.”
Max squeezed it, a silent promise of the future we’d build together. There we sat, though, with it comfortably settling into silence, reassured that we’d found something good.
“Megan,” he paused in the silence, breaking through the quiet with a low voice. “And there’s one more thing I want you to know.”
I turned my head to him. “What could that be?”
“I have just been offered a position at the institute of art,” he uttered, looking me straight in the eyes. “It’s the job of my dreams, but I must leave for another city.”
My heart almost jumped. “Max, that’s absolutely fantastic! You surely deserve this.”
“Thank you,” he replied in all seriousness. “But I don’t want to go if it means leaving you behind.”
It brought tears almost to my eyes. “Max, you’ve got to do it. This is what you dream of, so who am I to stand in your way?”
“But what about us?” he voiced, full of care.
“We’ll make it work,” I reaffirmed. “We’ll find a way. Our love is strong enough to handle the distance.”
He smiled, a look of relief pasted all over his face. “I’d hoped you would say that.”
For the rest of the evening, we stayed there and discussed what was to be done, what we hoped for the lives we would lead ahead. This was a chat with love, with great will, an indicator of the fire of our bond.
As we held this first light of the breaking dawn, we realized that this was yet another steppingstone. Still, a long part of the journey remained ahead and one we were willing to bear together to the end of the whole trial.
But as we stood there, hand in hand, looking out at the sunrise, I knew-we’d found something really special. A kind of love that could stand any challenge. A love that was meant to be.
“To us,” Max agreed, raising his invisible glass.
“To us,” I said, feeling immense awe and concordance both drench me to the core.