Lia and the others decided to visit the souvenir shop already while I was left to explore more on my own. It made perfect sense since I was the only one who was actually interested in art—an influence of my ex-boyfriend, of course.
All the anger in my heart had dissipated, leaving behind just the good memories of Stryder. It was more liberating that way, which I owed to myself. Hence, I had made the decision not to hold any grudges against him, not even negative thoughts of him.
A poster suddenly caught my attention as I was about to head over to the souvenir shop to follow my friends. The background on the poster was black, but there were splashes of colors in the center, like blotches of paint spelling out the word “Colors.” The text below the title gave out some details about the photo exhibit.
Curious, I went into the last room to check out the framed blow-up photos, each one emphasizing the theme “Colors.” I checked them out one by one, lingering thoughts of Stryder seeping into my mind again.
One particular photo caught my attention. It showed a cropped close-up of just a woman’s vivid blue-gray eyes against a blurry backdrop of the sky. The color of her eyes seemed to blend with the gathering clouds of rain.
My heart jumped in my throat as I went closer. It was like looking at a portion of my reflection. Of course I would recognize my own eyes anywhere, even if the rest of the face wasn’t there.
Was it really me? I asked silently, puzzled, as I studied the photograph. It had a sad tinge to it.
An assistant came to greet me then. Just in time.
“That photograph is quite intriguing, don’t you think?” the female assistant said, making conversation. “It’s one of my personal favorites.”
I nodded. “It sure is mysterious. And also sort of sad…”
“Yes, I agree,” she said with a nod, facing me. Our eyes met for just a few seconds, but that short period of time was enough for her to realize I had the same color of eyes as the one in the photograph before us. “Now I know why you’re so interested in this one! The resemblance is uncanny! I can’t believe it. The woman here could actually be you!”
I smiled uneasily, totally convinced it was really me. And there was only one person who could have taken that beautiful snapshot of me.
“Do you know who took this picture?” I asked, my heart pounding. “I couldn’t find any label.”
Had he sent this photo or was it possible he’s here in London? I could feel butterflies in my stomach as I imagined the second option as true.
“Oh, actually, the participating photographers were just here earlier,” the assistant said. “Such a shame you missed them. I clearly remember the one who was holding this photo because he was so damn cute!”
I felt myself becoming hopeful and ecstatic. She went on to describe him, which perfectly fit Stryder’s appearance. However, I needed to be sure so I waited for her to get the labels that she had yet to attach to the photographs in the exhibit.
She handed me one. With trembling fingers, I raised up the small piece of paper to my eyes. The title blew me away.
“My Long-Lost Love.”
I felt tears spring to my eyes. And when I saw his name printed below the title, that was it. The tears fell down my cheeks.
The female assistant looked at me in bewilderment. “Oh, my…” she whispered. “That’s really you in the photo, isn’t it?”
I didn’t know how to answer.
A look of excitement flashed in her eyes. “I can’t believe I just stumbled upon a real love story!” she said with thrill. “When was the last time you saw this photographer?”
“Maybe a month ago… but it’s quite impossible that he’s here in London…” I trailed off, not wanting to get my hopes up despite the evidence.
“Oh, it’s very possible,” the young woman said. “These photos were submitted by students of the London Academy of Photography. So this man of yours must be enrolled there, too.”
I took a deep breath, my thoughts dancing crazily in my head. Why did I even want to see him? He’s made it clear that I wasn’t that special to him and that he didn’t want to be with me anymore.
“You should come back tonight for cocktails,” the assistant urged. “We’re having the opening ceremonies at seven. All the artists will be here.”
“I don’t know…” I said hesitantly, my whole body turning numb.
“Come on!” she egged me on. “You know you want to see him. Besides, what were the chances that you two would meet again here in London? There must be a good reason for that… Destiny’s bringing you together again. Aren’t you curious what this means or where this will lead to next?”
I was utterly confused, but I found myself nodding in agreement. Stryder and I had never gotten to talk or have closure after our argument. Perhaps this would be a good chance to reconnect and finally have that talk once and for all. It would liberate both of us further, I guess.
“Admission is free,” the lady added. “I’ll see you later again, okay? I can’t wait for the next chapter of your love story.”
I gave her a weird look. “There is no next chapter,” I told her matter-of-factly.
“We’ll see,” was all she said, which both bothered and excited me.
Chapter Twenty Three
Tasha
The evening breeze seemed to calm down my nerves. I stood at the entrance of the small gallery inside the museum, smoothing down my black dress over and over again as my heart thumped harder and harder. Catching my reflection in the shiny wall I passed, I was pleased to see that my anxiousness wasn’t apparent on my face at all.
With my elegant yet simple ensemble, and my dark brown hair in tame waves cascading past my shoulders, I looked just like a regular art enthusiast in London. I easily blended in with the others, which was exactly my purpose. I certainly didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.
With every step I took nearer the photo exhibit I had seen earlier, my insides seemed to do a somersault, my eyes scanning the growing throng of visitors who were milling about for the pending opening.
When I saw a familiar broad-shouldered man standing in front of my photograph, I felt my heart jump. What was I going to say to him? I hadn’t thought of it much. That was when I felt a lump forming in my throat. My mouth turned dry.
But I kept on going. I walked forward, even when I could feel my knees seemingly turning into jelly. It was so nerve-wracking it’s a miracle I didn’t faint.
Up close, I could already smell the musky scent of his cologne. My imagination began pulling up memories of the past, especially how it felt to have his arms around me and to have his soft lips on mine.
Is it really you, Stryder? I asked silently just before I reached out to touch the man’s shoulder.
He turned around, and I gasped.
It was someone who looked like Stryder, who had the same height and built and hair. But this man wasn’t the one I was looking for. He looked like a local in the city, with a warm smile directed at me.
I smiled back uneasily. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else…” I muttered. Then feeling embarrassed and dejected, I turned around quickly before he could say anything else.
I was surely on edge and was very much tempted to run away and never come back. But a bigger part of me longed to see him again, to feel those intense eyes on me and to hear his voice once more. I lingered around, moving slowly and pretending to look at the other photos, drinking wine and eating the cocktail food while waiting for a glimpse of Stryder.
An hour passed. I was getting restless. But perhaps he was just late.
I soon found myself in front of his photograph of me again, looking into my own eyes, feeling the melancholy coming off of the image. My eyes shifted to the title “My Long-Lost Love,” which seemed to squeeze my heart. Does this mean that he really did love me? Was it possible that he still did?
“That’s a really beautiful photograph, dear,” someone from behind me said.
I turned around, facing a wom
an that was a few years older than me.
“It’s actually one of my favorites,” she continued. “So much emotion there.”
I nodded silently, smiling. I quickly averted my eyes, though, not wanting for her to notice that it was my eyes on the photograph.
“It doesn’t look like it was taken by an amateur photographer, right?” she said, smiling widely as she approached the photograph. “Stryder’s got a special gift. But perhaps it’s his heart that was truly captured through this art.”
My heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. “You know Stryder Cooper?” I asked without thinking. Then I added, “I mean, I saw the name on the label. He must be a really talented photographer.”
“He is,” she agreed quickly. “We’re together in one of his classes at the Academy. Can you believe he used to be a football star back in the US?” She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “He just seems so intense and deep most of the time, you know. Not your typical jock at all. Or perhaps he was just always so serious about the classes.”
“Probably,” was all I said. Deep inside, I was also very surprised. I wondered what had happened to him after the championships.
“I got to chat with him several times, though. When you get to know him, he’s really a lot of fun. It’s just that he’s so determined to do his best in this venture, to prove to his father that he can also succeed in this.”
“Why?” I wondered aloud, pretending to be clueless and simply fishing for more information.
“He mentioned once how his father had always manipulated him, always pushing him in football. His old man was probably furious when Stryder had chosen to take this photography scholarship grant over the chance to co-host some popular TV sports show.”
“Wow, I can just imagine,” I whispered. “A scholarship grant, huh?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, suddenly looking excited. “Apparently, his ex-girlfriend had submitted his photo to this magazine and unknowingly entered it in a contest. He’d won the first prize, which is the scholarship. And perhaps it made him realize how much he wanted to pursue this other gift and passion of his. He said he’d always be grateful to her.”
I felt a sting in my heart. “Do you know why they’re not together anymore?”
“He didn’t really explain it much,” she said, shrugging. “But what I do know is that he must love her very much. I heard from our other classmates that when he doesn’t have classes, he’s out there looking for her. Such a sad but sweet love story! I do hope he finds her soon. London is a huge city.”
Tears began to fill my eyes. I blinked them back, trying not to look affected. Now, more than ever, I wanted to see him. My head was overflowing with questions, my heart even more confused.
“Thank you…” I whispered. Stryder has been looking for me here. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, gripping my heart tightly. I quickly excused myself before she could see the tears rolling down my cheeks.
Where are you, Stryder? I asked silently, begging for him to come. I called out to him in my mind, hoping against hope that he’d show himself.
I went around, trying to keep calm and hold back more tears. Every minute that passed felt like eternity. But after another hour, I could feel my hopes crumbling apart. He wasn’t coming.
I decided to look for that woman again. When I spotted her, I didn’t hesitate anymore. “Excuse me, I’m sorry I had to go quickly a while back. I just wanted to ask if you have Mr. Cooper’s contact number?”
She gave me a puzzled look. “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t have it. But if you want to get in touch with him, you can drop by the Academy on Tuesday at ten. That’s when I have my class with him. I can give you my number.” She fished out a pen and a piece of paper, wrote her cellphone number and name, and then handed the paper to me.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, not knowing if I could last that long before I could see him again. I intended to go to the Academy the next day already.
“I’m Andrea Miles, by the way,” the woman said, extending her hand to me.
I shook her hand with a smile. “I’m Tasha… Tasha Rodriguez.”
The expression on her face changed in an instant. With wide eyes, she gripped my hand tightly. “It’s you!” she exclaimed. “Oh, my God. I should have known it’s you!”
I was totally stunned and speechless.
“You’re Stryder’s ex-girlfriend, aren’t you?” she said, peering into my eyes. “You’re that woman in his photograph!”
I nodded uneasily. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier…”
“It’s no problem at all,” she said, her tone excited. “Oh, please, please get in touch with him. If you still care about him, do give him another chance, dear. He looks so broken without you. And I know from experience how totally devastating that is. But you two have still got a chance…”
She went on about her own story, how her heart had been broken by her first husband whom she had never forgiven and which she regretted up to this day. I tuned her out eventually, my heart exploding with a mixture of strong emotions.
There were only a few people left, but I couldn’t leave until the end. Even as the gallery was closing, I was still there. I just could not go until I was absolutely sure he wouldn’t come.
Despite the disappointment of not seeing him that night, a glimmer of hope flickered in my heart. I could visit the Academy tomorrow morning. I didn’t have work until the afternoon, anyway. Soon we’d see each other again. I was certain of it.
Then what?! An annoying little voice inside my head kept asking.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I’ll know when I see him…”
The apartment was already quiet and dark when I let myself in. They were all probably sleeping already.
I groped for the light in the living room, turned it on, and then plopped on the sofa in exhaustion. I was more emotionally drained than physically tired.
For a few minutes, I just sat there with my eyes closed, resting, thinking, embracing the silence.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come home,” a voice behind me said, startling me.
I quickly stood up and turned around, my eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the man I had been waiting for.
Stryder had emerged from the kitchen, casually walking toward me, his eyes fixed on mine. He looked more handsome than ever, his muscular chest and shoulders well-defined, his brown eyes shining intensely. His brown locks were a little bit longer now, some strands crimping past his ears and onto his eyes.
I couldn’t believe he was standing right there in front of me now. My heart was pulsing insanely as he came nearer, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I thought that maybe…” he started, a tiny smile forming in his lips. “… maybe you found out I was here so you decided not to come home tonight…”
I actually scoffed, a smile playing on my lips. “Lia didn’t know where I was. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Where were you, Tasha?” he asked. The way he pronounced my name made my heart leap. I wanted to run into his arms right then and there. It felt so good to hear his voice again. All the aches of the past had vanished from my memory.
“I went to your photo exhibit, Stryder,” I explained in a quiet voice, gazing into his eyes. “I waited for you all night.”
He was taken aback. “I’m sorry. If I had known…”
“It doesn’t matter,” I told him quickly with a smile. “You’re here now.”
“And you’re here now,” he whispered, stepping closer and taking my hands in his. His touch immediately sent a shiver down my spine. I felt my limbs going weak. I wanted to cry.
Without hesitation, he wrapped me in his arms gently. It just felt natural, despite everything that had happened between us, no matter the time that had passed.
For about a minute, we stood there quietly in each other’s arms, just hugging, so many words left unspoken. Nonetheless, we seemed to understand one another. Our hearts seemed to communic
ate, forgiving each other for our mistakes and letting go of the past.
When he finally released me, he looked into my eyes again. “Thank you so much, Tasha,” he said. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be living the other side of my dreams, a part of me I had always ignored.”
“You deserve it, Stryder,” I told him honestly. “You owe it to yourself, too. And I’m so glad to learn that you chose to pursue your photography. You can always still go back to football, you know.”
“I know,” he said. “But not yet. I’m finishing the two-year grant as long as you’re here, too. I mean, that’s if you want to be with me again.”
My heart began to soar. Instinctively, I lifted a hand to caress his cheek. “I’ve been dreaming of this day, Stryder. Every day I was here, working, I never stopped thinking about you no matter how hard I tried not to.”
“I’m sorry for everything, Tasha. I now realize what a stupid jerk I’ve been, and I want to make it up to you, to show you how much I truly love you…” he paused, letting his words sink in.
It felt like a dream. I was in a haze, my heart rising in ecstasy. He loves me… He loves me!
“I want to be with you, Tasha,” he continued. “I’ve never been more ready and willing to commit. Please give me another chance.”
I smiled, almost laughing. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I want to be with you too, Stryder.”
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