Heartless Lover by Faith Summers

37

Summer

“Iwas thinking of making chicken for dinner,” I say to my father who is busy focusing on his brushstrokes.

He’s supposed to be in bed resting but he insisted on doing a painting.

A painting of me.

I’ve been sitting on this stool in the garden for an hour now trying not to move too much.

“How about we both cook?” he says adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He only wears his glasses to paint.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“You are. This is taking care of me too. I don’t have a painting of you at this age. Remember I used to do a painting on every birthday?”

I smile. “I remember.”

“Well, oblige a helpless old man who wants to spend his last days doing what he loved most with his beautiful daughter.”

It’s been a week since the incident here with Robert and Micah. I’m still trying to calm down from the horror of it.

Borya barely survived. He’s still in the hospital but he’ll be out in a few weeks. Oleg on the other hand was sadly killed and I heard how Robert killed his family too. It showed the extent of his evil and I’m glad he met his end. Micah too.

Thankfully, Dad just had a broken rib and had to stay in the hospital for a few nights. only because the doctors wanted to monitor him to check he was okay after what happened.

I thought it was best to come here and take care of him when he got out. It’s been a week since I also of also saw Eric. I have a phone now and he’s messaged a few times but that’s it.

He’s supposed to be coming by in an hour. I want to believe that he’s been giving me time with Dad, but there’s a doubtful side of me that thinks otherwise.

It thinks it’s over because everything else is, but my heart wills me to hope it might not be.

We didn’t exactly meet under the best circumstances, and I never thought I’d meet the one guy to change my world under the worst situation imaginable.

The only good thing to happen to me is speaking to Nick Fairchild, the creator of Scarlett’s play. I went to see him. Of course, when he saw me, he thought I was Scarlett and started talking to me like I was her.

It broke my heart to break the news to him. At least I could tell him the truth and the truth came from me.

We didn’t have to make anything up. When I asked if I could have the chance to honor my sister by filling in for her, he gave me an audition that night at rehearsals and I got the part. Opening night is next week. I’ve been going to rehearsals for the last four nights.

It feels weird doing the play when Scarlett should have been doing it, but this is how I will honor her. I will also honor her by continuing my dream.

She always made me promise to seize the opportunity if it came around.

I am.

I also applied for the entry exams at UCLA and I’m hoping to finally go to college and get my degree.

“Nearly done,” Dad announces. “I just have to get this part right then we can go inside.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“I used to enjoy painting you girls,” he says. “This one will go in my last collection.”

It’s hard to hear him talking like that. He looks a little better to me than he did when we were first reunited but I know that’s perhaps down to us talking again. It hasn’t changed his sickness.

“I’m honored to be part of your last collection.”

“I’m honored you allowed me to do it. There. I’m done. Come take a look.”

I get up and walk over to the easel. I smile at what I see. He’s painted me on the stool as I was, but instead of the little summer dress I’m wearing, he’s put me in the white dress I’m supposed to wear for the play. My hair is also done in a 1940’s style and I look like I just stepped out of the era.

“That looks amazing Dad.”

“Glad you like it.”

The doorbell rings and we look toward the door.

“That’s him now.”

“Yeah. I’ll go get the door.”

I move to go but he catches my arm.

“Baby girl, why don’t you two spend some time together. You don’t have to worry about cooking me anything.”

“Dad—”

“No, I never got to do this with you. He cares about you, or he wouldn’t be here.”

“He could be here with my stuff.” I hope he’s not.

“I think he could have brought your stuff around days ago if it was just about your stuff.”

I smile at that. “Okay.”

He releases me and I make my way out the front to open the door.

Eric is standing on the porch and I’m glad when I see his hands are empty.

This is the first I’ve seen him in a week, and it feels weird.

“Hi,” he says.

I can’t help myself; my body takes control and I rush into his arms. It feels so good when he holds me, and I realize just how much I missed him.

“A man could get used to that Summer Reeves,” he says when we pull apart.

“I’m sorry I was just happy to see you.”

“That’s a good thing. You look good.”

“You too.” But then he always did. “I spoke to the director of the play, and I got the part.”

“That’s perfect. I told you, you would.” He looks genuinely happy for me.

“It’s next week. I um… I’m sure you’re busy but I was wondering if you would come and watch me.”

He smiles at me and reaches out to touch my face. “Of course, I’ll go. I was hoping to see you before then though.”

“You were?” I ask unable to tamp down the bubble of excitement rising within me.

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t going to leave you alone?” He gives me a disarming smile.

“You did, but you also said you wouldn’t leave me alone until you were done with me.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be done with you.”

“Really?” A smile that comes straight from my heart spreads across my face.

“Yes. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, Babydoll.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you at all.”

“That works fine because I love you, Summer Reeves.”

“I love you too, Eric Markov.”

“Come here and show me.” He beckons me to his lips, and I go to him.

When our lips meet, he gives me a kiss that rivals all kisses.

In his arms I feel whole and like I’ll always be safe.

I feel like I’ll always have love and be loved.

That’s everything I ever wanted.