Chapter 234:
In the Vulnerable
Megan’s Point of View:
This morning, the studio was dead quiet, in total contrast to the flurry of activity it held the previous day. There was just no noise except for the soft hum of the heating system and once in a while the rustling of the canvas as it shifted. It had been a long time since I had that peace. Maybe Chris was right; maybe this is what I needed.
Chris was across the room, talking about some of his latest paintings with Max. I observed for a bit, then once again that pang: that pang of guilt. Chris had been so patient, so understanding, when he really hadn’t needed to. I knew I had to tell him everything that had passed through my mind, however hard it was going to be.
I took a deep breath and ramblingly made my way to them. “Hi, guys,” I said, trying to sound casual.
Chris turned toward me, grinning. “Hi, Meg. Max was just showing me some of his latest pieces. It’s really fantastic.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, looking at the paintings. Paintings bold in strokes and color-much like the emotions in the artist himself.
He locked sharp, bold eyes with mine. “You have so much potential, Megan. Yesterday’s painting is only the beginning.”
“Thanks,” I said a bit stiffly, eyeing him for scrutiny. “I’m still figuring it out.”
“Aren’t we all?” Max replied with a hint of his smile playing on his lips. “But you have something special; don’t doubt that.”
Chris nodded in agreement. “He is right. You are amazing, Megan.
My cheeks flushed at their compliments. “Thanks, both of you. But there’s something I need to talk to Chris about. In private.”
Max nodded, comprehending. “Of course. I am going to give the two of you some space.”
As Max strode away, Chris turned to me with a concerned expression. “What’s on your mind, Meg?”
I took a deep breath, mentally searching for the right words. “I just can’t seem to get enough sleep lately, and I have been thinking about everything that’s happened. With Miles, with us…and I realized that, well, I haven’t really been fair to you.”
Chris frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I have just been so self-absorbed, caught up in my own problems that I haven’t been honest with you,” I said. “About how I’m feeling, what I need. I’ve pushed you away when all you’ve done is try to help.”
Chris squeezed my hand in his. “Megan, it’s okay. I know you’re going through a lot. I just want to be here for you.”
“I know,” I said, welling up with tears in my eyes. “And for that, I am so grateful. However, Chris, I have to be honest: I am really scared of letting anybody get too close. I’m scared of being vulnerable.”
Chris drew me into his arms and pressed me to him. “It’s all right to be scared, Meg. But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I dug my face deep in his shoulder and let the tears begin to fall. “I just don’t want to lose you, Chris. You mean so much to me.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “We’ll get through it, together. I promise.”
We stood there for a very long time, just holding each other. At last, I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking. “I needed that.
Chris smiled gently. “Anytime, Meg. Anytime.”
We worked on our projects as if nothing had happened throughout the rest of that morning; yet nothing would ever be the same again between us. I felt a weight lifted off me-for the first time in so very long, hopeful.
As we were packing up to leave that afternoon, studio Max came up to us. “Hey, Megan, can I talk to you a second?”
I flicked a glance sidewise to Chris, who nodded encouragingly. “Sure,” I said and followed Max to a quieter corner of the room.
“I wanted to show you something,” Max said, tugging out a small sketchbook. He flipped through it until he’d come to where he’d sketched a series of portraits. All of me. Different expressions and emotions.
“These are amazing,” I breathed, overwhelmed. “When did you do these?”
“Last night,” he again spoke in that low voice. “I could not have what you said yesterday out of my head. Finding the balance and making sense of all of it. I wanted to capture that journey.”
I looked again at the sketches, and a surge of so many feelings came rushing in. “You really get me, don’t you?”
Max smiled. “I think we understand each other. We both have gone through a lot in life, and art is how we work it out.”
I felt an affinity with him, so I nodded. “Thanks, Max. This does mean a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said again, finally shutting the book that had housed all of my sketches. “And remember, if you ever want to talk or you get that urge to paint again, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” I said again, feeling this time a warmth in my chest.
As Chris and I left the studio, I felt that feeling of non-eventfulness that I hadn’t felt in some time. We wandered into a comfortable silence to enjoy the crispness of the air, the quiet of the evening.
“Today it was good,” Chris said after a while. “I think we have made some progress.
“Yeah, we did,” I agreed. “And I am glad we had a talk. I’ve been holding so much in, and to let it out does a lot of good.”
Chris nodded. “It’s important to be honest with each other. That is the only way we will grow.”
“I know,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “And I’m going to work on that-being more open and vulnerable. It’s not easy, but I think it’s worth it.”
“It is,” Chris said, smiling. “And I’m here to help you every step of the way.”
As I walked, I thought about everything that had brought us to this moment-through the ups and downs of struggles and successes. It had been hard, yet it had been so worth it. Now, refreshed with a renewed sense of purpose and further connection, I was prepared to do anything the future held.
We came into our apartment, and the entry into the apartment was sudden-a flow of warmth and belonging enfolded. This was home-my haven-and no matter what happened, we all had each other.
“Let’s make dinner,” Chris said, heading into the kitchen. “I was thinking something simple but delicious.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, walking behind him. “I’ll help.”.
I felt all along that it was what I had missing while cooking, laughing, and talking. All those easy beautiful moments in life add up to minutes of connection and love, which make everything worthwhile.
We sat on the couch a little later, glazing through some comfortable silence. After a moment, I then sank into Chris, his warmth and strength feeling good around me. “I love you,” I said softly, the words real for the first time.
“I love you too, Megan,” he said as he pecked a little kiss atop my head. “More than you know.”
We just sat there in the circle of our own arms because we knew we could get up and face anything. It was real, we both knew that; it was strong, we both knew that. And in the end, that’s all that mattered.