The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 90: Goodbye

Six lonely days passed by like eons. Each hour felt like a week in itself. Yet Kieran pressed through, clinging to his work as the last lifeline he had left.

It allowed him an excuse to brood, and also a decent reason as to why he chose not to answer Tawny's fifty-seven daily phone calls. Though he had broken up with her, Kieran didn't think Tawny had come to terms with her new reality. Letting her down slowly would have only given her false hope. This was the best way to break their ties.

Kieran had regretted, for years, the path he led Tawny down. He had been deceived, too. Patrick had a smooth tongue. As a high-school student, borrowing money to buy his friend expensive presents had seemed like a good idea. But, Tawny had fallen down the wormhole of designer brands in a way that Kieran had never anticipated. She refused to leave their greedy pull.

And because the fire that scarred her back had been Kieran's fault—because he had stood up to Patrick before he had any power to do so—Kieran had promised to take care of Tawny.

It had all been a mistake, in the end. He knew that. But the noose of responsibility had kept him in place at her side for all those years. It had been hard to let go. To let her face the consequences of her own actions. Kieran could no longer be held responsible for the things Tawny had done.

She was on her own now, and though it pained Kieran to see it, he would not intervene again.

He had his own path to traverse now, his own future to shape.

The studio door clicked as it opened and closed.

Kieran snapped a lens cap onto the camera in his hands. "Sorry, we're closed. Make an appointment and come back later."

"This will be my last visit."

It took every bit of Kieran's instinct to keep the camera in his shaking hand. He wanted to drop it, to let it clatter to the floor. But he wouldn't. Because cameras were expensive. Because of professional decorum. Because he needed something to hold onto.

She shouldn't be there, and yet he knew her sweet voice too well.

Kieran swallowed, willing his own voice to remain steady. "What brings you by?"

"Kieran..." Naomi's voice sounded breathless and timid. "Can we just talk for a few minutes? Without the stiffness or the formality. Just talk. Like we used to. It's the last time I'll request it."

He should say no. Kieran knew that he should force her to walk away. Too many things he had done called for her forgiveness. For the rest of his life, he should punish himself by staying away from her. But she asked so nicely. His heart couldn't resist.

Kieran set the camera on a nearby table, took a cleansing breath, and turned to face Naomi. "Come have a seat."

The corners of Naomi's lips, usually so downcast, ticked up as if he had gifted her the entire world.

In her usual poised fashion, Naomi traversed to Kieran's side of the studio and took a seat on the sofa nearby. One long, denim-clad leg looped over the other one. Her hands landed on her knee.

Kieran noticed every detail, from the way her fingers toyed with a wrinkle in her jeans, to the way her teeth played with her bottom lip. Naomi was nervous, it appeared, and he couldn't blame her. Not after what he had done last time they were in the studio.

On that note... "About last time. With the pictures."

"I saw them. My mother got a hold of them somehow." Naomi ducked her head. Then, recomposed, she lifted her eyes to hold Kieran's stare. "They were the most beautiful photographs I've seen of myself. In my entire life. Thank you."

"It's because you're beautiful." The comment fell from Kieran's lips so easily that he barely registered making the sounds.

A blush tinted Naomi's cheeks, but only for a moment. "Rather, I think it's because the photographer was in love with his subject. Maybe..." Naomi rarely hesitated, but the torment on her face could be nothing else. "Maybe... he still is?"

Every bone in Kieran's body wanted to shout "yes", sweep Naomi off her feet, and kiss her senseless. But neither of them could afford to be so reckless.

So, Kieran changed the subject. "How did your mother get the photographs? I didn't—"

"I know. She has her ways, but they aren't important." Naomi's spine straightened, her chin lifted. Her very best defensive posture, Kieran knew well. "What's important is that I've made a decision."

The trepidation that Kieran felt was real and alive, moving within him like an entity. Whatever she said next could shape both their futures, or trample all their hopes into the ground without a second thought.

"What kind of decision?"

"I've been offered an internship with Andre Asimov. And I've decided to take the offer."

"When do you leave?"

"My flight is tomorrow afternoon." Naomi sucked in another breath, and her eye contact with him finally failed. She studied her hands instead. "Tell me not to go. Tell me to stay and I'll stay with you."

Despite the disappointment of Naomi's departure, Kieran smiled. Because he had known, since the moment he laid eyes on her artwork, that she had a calling much better than what her mother desired for her. Naomi was gifted, and he wouldn't stand in the way of that.

"Naomi, look at me." Kieran ducked his head, searching for those wise eyes of hers. Only when Naomi met his gaze did he continue. "I won't tell you to stay. I won't force you to do anything you don't really want to do. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You deserve every second of it. You should cherish it. And you shouldn't let me stand between you and your dreams. If you want to be a successful artist, go. Take your flight. Enjoy your internship."

It pained him to set her free. It tore at the very fabric of his heart. But Kieran wanted Naomi to have everything she had never been given. This was the first thing she had done on her own, and he wanted her to spread her wings. It didn't matter that her leaving would pain him. It mattered only that Naomi had finally become her own woman, with her own ambitions.

Her shoulders slouched, then lifted again. "Well, you wouldn't be the man I love if you said anything different, would you?"

The words had been meant for herself, but Kieran heard them loud and clear.

"Naomi, I—"

"You were right. We should take some time alone, each of us." Naomi rose to her feet, her posture determined and her eyes alight. "My internship is for two years. I won't be back until it's over. But if—and I mean if—we can't forget each other after two years, promise me that you'll give me a second chance."

Kieran smiled, genuine and free. He would give her a third and a fiftieth chance if she would let him. Because it wasn't Naomi's fault that they couldn't be together.

"You'll forget me," Kieran assured. "You'll find someone new."

"Maybe." Naomi grinned at him, as flirtatiously as he had grinned at her a long time ago, in a convenience store neither of them should frequent. "But if I can't, I'll be back for you, Kieran Colburn."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Naomi leaned down, until her face was a mere inch in front of his and their lips could have touched if one of them moved. "A little bit of both."

Then she sailed out of the studio. Out of his life. And Kieran fought the urge to cry. His little rich girl had grown up these past months, and oh what a sight to behold. Now, she was even better than the scared little girl he had toyed with. Now, she was everything he wanted.

Yet, Kieran doubted that he would get to keep it. Naomi would move on. She could do better.