Page 68 of Grasp The Moment

I work hard to finish what feels like my first piece in years. The detailed dress reminds me of Delilah in many ways, from its pastel yellow skirt to the sweetheart neckline and tulle shoulder straps that resemble large bows—I can imagine Delilah in this dress when she gets older. It’s whimsical but also elegant and poised. I smile to myself as everything comes together before my eyes.

I can feel Derek before I see him; his presence is large in thesmall living room. He takes a seat next to me on the couch, immediately putting my legs in his lap and massaging my feet as I finish the sketch.

“It’s been coming to you more and more lately,” he says as he slides in closer, my thighs now across his lap.

“It is,” I say, smiling as I open a new page and begin to sketch a youth-aged dress that resembles the first one.

Derek leans in close, placing a small kiss on my temple. “I knew you’d get it.”

Pausing, I lock eyes with him and smile. “Did you?”

“Of course, I have faith in you. Always.”

I look away from him immediately, my cheeks hot and red like fresh roses as I lock my eyes back on my sketchbook. He’s been more affectionate lately, watching me when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention, forehead and shoulder kisses every morning and night, and midday hugs between courses.

It feels refreshing to be treated like I matter by a man—not saying that Ineeda man’s validation to know my worth, because I don’t. I’m an excellent woman. I’m in my early twenties, and I have everything going for me, but to have other people notice these things… I don’t know. It makes me feel special, and I think that that’s what scares me too. Because when someone makes themselves important and special in your life, as Derek is becoming for me, it hurts like hell when they show their true colors.

I see yellow in him it’s bright and happy like the sun, but when you stare too close at the sun, you go blind.

26.Derek

“I could stareat you all day…” The words tumble from my mouth as soon as Georgia looks up from her tablet.

We’ve been parked in front of my mother’s house for the past fifteen minutes. When we left our place, Delilah fell asleep immediately, and Georgia began sketching her newest designs for both her fashion show and the brand she’s been envisioning herself starting. Her work ethic is impeccable.

For the past week, she’s gone to sleep with her tablet or sketchbook in hand, and when she wakes up, she immediately begins to work on one or the other while also making time for both Delilah and me.

She smiles, her cheeks reddening. Her hair today is silkier than usual, straightened with tiny embellishments circling the crown of her hair, making the top of her head sparkle. Delilah—the little princess—saw the jewels in Georgia’s hair and immediately wanted them and glitter in her own. The glitter was obviously a no-go, but now both of my girls are sparkling like the true stars that they are.

“You’re being cute tonight, can’t wait to get home…” She winks, kissing me quickly before locking her tablet and placing it underneath her seat.

I raise a brow at her, placing my chin in my palm as I lean against the armrest, meeting her eyes.

“Aren’t I always?”

Georgia rolls her bright eyes, looking forward quickly, then back at me with a small smile.

“You’re infuriating,” she says, but the smile on her face tells a different story. “Whose car is that?”

I hadn’t even noticed that there was another car parked in front of the house.

I shrug, getting my phone and turning off the car. “No idea, could be one of Mom’s friends from the club…”

She snickers. “The club?”

Sighing, I smile. “The Summerfield Montaine.”

She chuckles at the mention of the country club as I get out of the car and make my way over to her side of it. She gives me a smile that could send a man to Heaven; her golden nails and wedding ring on display as she holds her hand out for me to grab.

“Sir,” she greets me with a small and polite tilt of the head as I bow for her, kissing the ring, then the back of her hand.

“M’lady.”

Georgia laughs, swatting my shoulder as she hops out of the car. It doesn’t take long for me to get Delilah out of the car, seeing as she started giggling the moment I opened her door while she pretended to be asleep.

“C’mon, you little monster.”

She opens one eye, her dimple pressing deeper into her cheek as she covers her mouth with her golden painted nails. I furrow my brows at her hands and turn to my wife, who stands a foot away with a nervous smile on her face.