Sobs.
“Oh my God,” he whispers and grabs for me though he’s not looking away from the painting taking up the entire expanse of the shop’s front.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I set my chin on his shoulder and hug him tightly.
He’s shaking as he points, counting each drum painted into the wall, calling them by names.
It’s so damnrealit looks like a fucking picture hung on the wall, not a drawing of a touring drum set highlighted by rays of sunlight.
“Two toms, floor, snare … crash … bass—This is my set.” He trembles and I nod.
“Yeah, mi Vida. It is.” My heart pounds with the final bit of this surprise I was certain I’d never be able to give him. “And, um, the windows behind us look in on this. You can see it from the street.”
His shoulders shake and he tightens the grip on my forearm.
“Show me.”
Keeping his hand in mine, I pull the covers from the windows, flip on the spotlight and guide him out the front.
His mouth drops wide at the sight, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“We could open it to the public, if you want, Vida.” I watch as he stares in awe at the place. “All you gotta do it pick a name.”
Mac turns to me, his breath hitching, and wraps his arms around my neck.
Then he’s kissing me stupid and it’s wet. Sweet. Full of so much passion and love and hope, that it makes me feel like we could withstand anything.
And after everything we’ve been through?
I know we could.
“Jordan, this is everything I didn’t know I needed,” he chokes out through a smile. “God, I love you so fucking much.”
I nod and smile with my heart pattering a beat that syncs to his.
“Thanks for giving me the chance, Vida.” I swipe the back of my knuckles over his damp cheek. “And thanks for loving me when I didn’t even know I needed it.”
The End
