Page 39 of The Artist's Rival

“I love you,” Ellie confesses, simply.

That’s all that is left on her mind, in the warm lights of their kitchen, shielded from the storm outside, whispering not to wake their little son up. The unadorned confession is the only thing reverberating around her thoughts, bumping around like a ball being kicked into infinity. Looking into Tatiana’s bright eyes, still glimmering even despite the exhaustion, looking at her lips forming a gentle smile, and thinking that this is the person she gets to build a family with—the only thing on her mind is love.

“Oh, you!” Tatiana pulls Ellie up, into her arms. “I love you too, darling.”

They share a long and tender kiss, before a clap of thunder erupts and wakes Elijah up.

“I’ll get him downstairs to sit with us, what do you think?” Ellie asks.

She climbs the stairs to remedy the sleepy boy’s troubles, finding him sitting on the bed and weeping.

“Mommy I’m scared, scared,” he keeps mumbling, clutching his blanket in tight fists.

“Oh darling, come here,” Ellie takes him up in her arms, feeling the warm forehead rest against her skin. He reaches for the back of her neck, allowing himself to sink into the comfort of his mother’s tender arms.

She carries him downstairs, gently stroking his small head, whispering sweet things to make him forget the sudden noise of thunder. Tatiana puts on a calm jazz piece, and the music, akin to a tender lover’s lullaby, fills their living room. She comes up to them, and embracing Ellie with Elijah in between, she initiates a slow, loving dance. Moving step by step, rocking a little to the soothing saxophone, they circle the room. They dance his tearfulness away, lulling him to sleep, the music drowns out the simmering sounds of falling rain, and they might keep on dancing so through the entire night.