Chapter 200:
Midnight Revelations
Jake’s POV
The whispering tick of the wall clock was a sure metronome for the progress of time, and it slipped silently away in the studio. It must be way past midnight, but yet I just couldn’t seem to make myself get up and leave. We had been working on this piece and it was almost done. Some force seemed to make me want to stay to bask in the atmosphere of our combined creation.
Then the door creaked open again, and there was Lila walking in. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of me. “Jake, what are you still doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, a smile in my voice. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “No, I kept thinking about the piece. I wanted to see it one more time.”
“Glad you did, then,” I said, waving her to come alongside. “I was feeling the same way.”
When she reached the spot, her eyes went for a run over the almost completed work. “It’s amazing how far we have come.”
“Yeah,” I responded, my voice filled with awe. “It’s like every stroke, every texture tells a part of our story.”
She nodded; her expression seemed thoughtful. “You know, I never realized we would make something of this kind-it’s far beyond the limits of just mere art; this is part of us.”
We stood there for a little while longer, neither of us saying anything, somehow both assimilating just what she meant by that. I felt a strange mixture of pride and vulnerability because I knew that our work stood as testament to just that-the journey, the struggles, and triumphs.
“Jake,” Lila said through the dark, being careful not to speak too loud. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said, turning toward her.
“Do you sometimes feel that you run after something, but it’s never really within your reach?” She looked into my eyes as she was saying this. “Just like this one thing that is always out of your reach?”
It was a question that caught me by surprise, but I knew precisely what she wanted to know. “All the time,” I admitted. “I think that’s got to be part of an artist. Always wanting more; always deeper.”
She sighed, and you could see the relief cross her features. “Oh good, I’m not the only one. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who can’t be satisfied.”
“You’re not alone, Lila,” I said gently. “We all feel that way, but that’s what makes us grow and keeps us creating.”
“I know,” with a nod of her head, she said. “But it’s so wearing.”
“It is,” I replied. “But look at what we’ve done. We’ve turned that being not okay with it into something beautiful.”
She smiled, a real one, warm, somehow lighting her face. “You’re right, Jake. And I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.”
We lapsed back into silence, though this time it was comfortable with shared understanding. The piece in front of us now seemed to glow with a life of its own-proof of how much hard work and dedication we had put into it.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” Lila said at last, her voice turned squiffy. “Ever since you’ve found my mission, Jake.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve been holding back,” she said, never looking at me, focusing on her hands in her lap. “There’s been something I’ve been afraid to see, let alone show, to myself.”
I was quiet, poised to catch how really heavy her confession would be.
“I’m so scared,” she finally said, barely more than a whisper. “I’m scared to not be good enough, to not reach the standard I want to reach, no matter how hard I try.”
“Lila,” I said, my heart bleeding for her. “You are more than good enough. You are a brilliant artist and an amazing person. If you ever doubt that, look at what we have done together.”
She looked up at me; her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Thanks, Jake. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
I reached out and took her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re all in this together, Lila. We’ve all got each other’s backs.”
She nodded through tears. “I know. And for that, I am very grateful.”
As we stood there hand in hand, it was like nothing I had ever felt before: a feeling of clearness and connection. It sometimes felt that, in that minute, under the tender lights at the studio, everything could be handled one way or another.
“Jake,” she said instead, after a pause that seemed to last forever; her voice was firm. “There’s something else that I feel like I have to tell you.”
“What?” I asked, becoming even more anxious from her statement.
“I have always been amazed by your strength,” she spoke with a glance into my eyes. “You have that quiet determination which just inspires.”
Her words filled me with emotions, touched me to the core. “Thank you, Lila. That means a lot to me.”
“I’m not kidding,” she said with resolve in her voice. “Neil, you have been the rock for all of us, always being there when we needed you. God knows, I do not know how we would have survived without you.”
“I feel the same way about you, “I continued, with emotion choking my voice. “You have colored our lives with so much light and created so much creativity within us. This project would be so colorless without you.”
We share a moment of silent understanding, and our bond becomes stronger through the silence. It was the moment of revelation, not only of our working but about ourselves and our place in each other’s life.
With the time passing by, we kept conversing, sharing our fears, hopes, and dreams. It was an honest conversation full of much vulnerability, something that allowed us a look into the very depths of our souls.
“Jake,” Lila said as the first light of dawn began filtering through the windows. “Thank you for tonight. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”
“Me too,” I said, smiling. “Sometimes all that is required is somebody who will listen, who you know will understand.”
She nodded; her eyes showed gratefulness. “And you’ve always been that person for me. I just hope I can be that for you too.”
“You already are,” I said, my voice sincere, “more than you know.”