Chapter 5 - THE MASTERPIECE OF US
The next morning,
the sun streamed through my bedroom window,
illuminating the discarded plaid pajama pants on the floor.
I sat up,
rubbing my eyes,
wondering if the entire night had been a fever dream.
But then I saw the note on my nightstand.
It was written on heavy,
cream-colored stationery in a bold,
elegant hand.
"You left your shoe in the Lamborghini,"
it read.
"I believe that makes me the prince in this scenario,
though the footwear choice is questionable."
"Meet me at the pier at noon."
"Dress however you like."
"Love,
Theo."
I felt a grin spread across my face,
a real,
unbridled expression of joy.
I spent an hour in front of my closet,
not because I was trying to hide,
but because I wanted to be whole.
I chose a simple white sundress,
my favorite worn-in denim jacket,
and my most comfortable sandals.
I left my hair down,
letting it wave in its natural state,
and applied just a touch of mascara.
When I walked downstairs,
my father was in the kitchen,
staring at a newspaper.
“Theodore called this morning,”
Dad said,
his voice uncharacteristically soft.
“He told me that if I ever try to arrange a date for you again,
he’ll buy my company and fire me.”
I laughed,
a bright sound that startled even myself.
“He’s joking,
Dad,”
I said,
kissing his cheek as I headed for the door.
“Probably,”
Dad muttered,
though he looked secretly impressed.
I drove to the pier,
the ocean breeze smelling of salt and possibility.
Theodore was standing at the end of the wooden dock,
wearing a simple linen shirt and chinos.
He looked less like a millionaire mogul and more like the boy from the pool,
his hair tousled by the wind.
In his hand,
he held a small,
delicate box.
“You’re on time,”
he noted,
his eyes sweeping over me with an expression of pure adoration.
“You look... yourself.”
“I feel like myself,”
I replied,
stepping close to him.
He opened the box,
revealing a beautiful,
intricate necklace with a small gold leaf pendant.
“A replacement for the one I didn't take out of your hair nine years ago,”
he said,
stepping behind me to fasten the clasp.
The metal was cool against my skin,
but his fingers were warm.
“Clare,”
he whispered into my ear,
“I don’t want to rush anything.”
“But I’ve spent a decade waiting for a second chance.”
“I’m not going to waste a single second of it.”
He turned me around to face him,
his hands resting on my waist.
“I don’t care if you dress like a princess or a vagabond,”
he said,
his voice thick with sincerity.
“As long as you’re the one I’m looking at when the sun goes down.”
I reached up,
my hands finding his neck,
pulling him closer.
“Theo,”
I said,
my heart full to the brim.
“I think Operation Horrible Outfit was a success.”
“Oh?”
he asked,
a brow arched in amusement.
“Yes,”
I said,
rising on my tiptoes.
“Because it led me exactly where I wanted to be.”
“And where is that?”
“Right here,”
I whispered,
and then I finally did what I had been wanting to do since I was fifteen years old.
I kissed him.
It wasn't a tentative,
awkward kiss of a teenager.
It was the kiss of two people who had found their way back to each other through the noise and the nonsense.
It was a promise of a future where we could be ourselves,
flaws and all.
The waves crashed against the pier,
the gulls cried out overhead,
and the world continued to spin.
But for us,
everything was still.
I had dressed ugly to ruin a visit,
but in doing so,
I had revealed the most beautiful thing of all.
I had found a man who didn't want a masterpiece.
He wanted the artist,
the mess,
and the woman who wasn't afraid to fall.
And as we walked off the pier,
hand in hand,
I knew that our story was just beginning.
A story that didn't need designer labels or arranged marriages.
Just a girl,
a boy,
and a pair of old plaid pajama pants that would forever be my favorite outfit in the world.
May you like
Because that was the night I stopped hiding,
and the night Theodore Ashford finally came home.
