43. Faith

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So, this is the last chapter of Love Is... but this does not have the article that Liana writes. I'll upload it most probably and I'll also upload an epilogue. :) Hope you all love this chapter. Happy reading!

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CHAPTER – 43 (Completely unedited!)

LOVE IS... FAITH


'Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.' – Erich Fromm


In the last few days, Ashton and I had very kindly ignored the fact that I had to leave the country soon. It was always at the back of our minds, but we didn't let it affect the little time we had together. We spent one peaceful day at my parents' place, and to my heart's content, my parents loved him, contrary to how Dad had been when he had visited me a few days back. He didn't disturb me when I had to write the article, but did throw negative comments about love all the while which made me laugh. I wasn't disturbed by those comments, but upon asking the reason, he had answered in a dead panned manner, that 'I have a reputation to maintain.'

With the excitement and nervousness of a kid showing his playroom to his friends, he opened the door of his art room for me. It was a room attached to his bedroom, the same room that he had once said was the direct entrance to Hogwarts. I had laughed at the irony; the room was the direct entrance to Ashton's imaginative world. And it was, for the lack of a better word, beautiful... amazingly beautiful. It was an insight into Ashton's mind. The paintings were his moods and they left me speechless. Not that I was some art expert, but I knew when I liked something to look at. Those were the paintings which made me want to not look away from them.

"Why did you paint me?" I had asked him while looking at one of his creations – creation of a girl sitting alone in a blurred bar. It was me... four months back.

He shrugged, looking at me as if it was no big deal. "You intrigued me." I had smiled in response and let the matter drop. Many words were not needed between us, and I liked it like this. He knew that I loved it, and every painting he showed me.

I had managed to submit the article to Priscilla on time, thankfully. I didn't tell her what all had developed between Ashton and me in these twenty days. Ashton didn't want me to, as he didn't want Parkers interference between us. He had said that if they were smart, they would understand after reading the article. I had silently agreed, submitted the article, and discussed the terms of the next assignment.

During the past week, we cooked together, we shopped together, we stayed at either of ours apartment and in this week, none of us slept on the couch, we spent most of our times together because we knew that we didn't have much time. But not once did we talk about that fact.

Even when I was packing my stuff, Ashton had helped me while throwing pervert comments almost every half minute. He made it look like his main focus was on how hot I would look in a particular dress rather than on the fact that I was going away. But as we lay facing each other on my bed on my last night here in the New York City, we realized that the moment we had avoided talking about wasn't far away.

We were tired, dead tired after hours of packing, but we couldn't sleep. It was like we had to talk about the dreadful topic, but we couldn't. No words escaped our mouths as we just stared at each other, holding hands, making unsaid promises.

"Come with me," I whispered, asking him to do one thing that I knew he couldn't do.

His lips twitched slightly, and he caressed my cheek with his warm hand. He didn't reply, because I knew that he couldn't lie about joining me, and he didn't want to hurt me by stating the truth that 'he can't'.

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