Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
It felt like a cloud had lifted—like I finally had a direction, after meandering aimlessly for so long. I kissed Ryder and said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me, even when I don’t believe in myself.”
Our time together absolutely flew by. While I began working on my new collection, Ryder helped me in so many ways. He cleaned and organized, ran errands, cooked, and filled my freezer, but most of all, he provided moral support.
He listened while I rambled, talking through ideas until the designs were clear in my mind. He kept me company, made love to me, and held me while we slept. And he made sure I took time each day to relax—to hang out with my friends, to be outside, and just to breathe.
I was in a much better place by the time Logan and I drove Ryder to the airport Saturday morning, accompanied by Owen, who chattered happily in his car seat the whole way there. I felt calmer and more confident, and that made everything seem less daunting.
Logan pulled his SUV to the curb when we reached the terminal, and Ryder and I climbed out and held each other for a long moment. As he stroked my hair, I murmured, “I’m so glad I get to see you in four weeks.”
“I’ll be counting the days.” When he kissed me, it was tender and full of promise. He stepped back and smiled at me as he hung his backpack over his shoulder. Ryder cupped my cheek and said, “See you soon, baby,” before turning and heading into the terminal.
I watched him go, but only for a few seconds, since the SUV was in a loading zone. After I jumped into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt, Logan handed me a box of tissues and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes and no.” I blotted the tears from my eyes as he pulled away from the curb. “It’s always so hard to say goodbye to him, but this surprise visit was pure joy.”
“That man is madly in love with you, Hal.”
“Do you think so?”
“No question. Hasn’t he told you that yet?”
“No, but I haven’t said it, either.”
Logan asked, “Why not? I know you feel it.”
“I absolutely do, but I guess I want the timing to be right. Or maybe I’m hoping Ryder says it first.”
“I feel like he just did. He wouldn’t drop everything like that and come to help you if he didn’t love you.”
He was right. I still wanted to hear Ryder say the words, though.
13
Ryder
My spontaneous visit to San Francisco seemed to ignite something in Hal. Over the next three weeks, he threw himself into his nature-themed collection. I liked to think I’d helped him get there, but all I’d done was give him a chance to relax and take a breath. As soon as he did that, the ideas started flowing.
The outfits were intricate and a huge amount of work, but he seemed happy and inspired. By the beginning of June, he’d finished the new collection. Each piece was an ethereal, dreamy work of art. The colors were mostly soft greens and delicate pinks, very much the woodland fantasy he’d described.
He really went for it with the piece that would close his part of the show, a hand-dyed and painted sage green wedding gown with pale pink accents. It was sleeveless with a layered, wrap-around collar, and short in the front with a long, full skirt and train in back.
Most of the outfits included small headpieces, but to go with that one he’d made an elaborate crown out of handmade silk flowers, bits of grapevine, and iridescent baubles. It completed the look beautifully and helped make it an absolute showstopper.
The year-end fashion show was set to be held on a Monday. Hal video called me the Saturday before the show, so I could see how it all had turned out. The collection was both earthy and regal, rough and refined. I had no idea how he’d pulled that off.
He and Kit had gathered their models to finalize their hair and makeup and do a final fitting. They were also doing a photo shoot in a local park. They’d brought in a photography student to help them, so she and both designers would end up with pictures for their portfolios.
Hal panned the phone so I could see what was happening. His models were volunteers from the LGBTQ community center where he donated the prom dresses every year. It happened to work out that two of his models were nonbinary, two were gay men, and the last two were a pair of adorable nineteen-year-old trans girls who were also a couple.
All of them looked amazing. When the photographer gathered them for a group shot, I told Hal, “Look at that. You did that, baby. It’s so stunningly beautiful that it takes my breath away.” They were gathered in front of a grove of trees, and it looked like a painting come to life.