Sullivans 06 - Let Me Be the One

were already slipping down her cheek one after the other.
    “God, it’s good to hear you say that. So damn good, Vicki. Say it again.”
    “I love you,” she whispered again and again between kisses, and even though they were already so close, she needed more.
    And as their words of love for each other tangled on their tongues and mouths, their morning quickie turned into something even hotter and sweeter with Ryan’s fingers threading through hers, and he took her body—and heart—up to the highest peak she’d ever crested one more beautiful time.
     
    * * *
     
    Vicki was towel-drying her hair as Ryan gathered up the last of his things to head out for the airport. They’d used up every single second of their final morning before the playoffs—and then some, she thought with a smile.
    She put on her usual studio uniform of a tank top and pair of leggings and headed out to the kitchen. Her smile grew even bigger as she thought about just how she could make Ryan’s day just a little bit better before he got on the plane for St. Louis to play the Cardinals in the first game of the playoffs.
    He was staring at his cell phone and she couldn’t see his face as he said, “Thanks for calling about this, Smith.”
    When he kept scrolling down the screen, she took the chance to stare at him for a few seconds...and to reflect on the shocking fact that he was all hers.
    Oh, how she was going to miss him while he was in Missouri for five days. How had she ever managed to go so many years without seeing him, when now she was barely going to make it a week?
    Thanking God he’d be back from his games just before the fellowship board made their decision, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her face against his back. “Okay, you can have it.” He turned to face her and she was grinning as she said, “One completely, totally naked d—” Vicki’s words fell away as she saw his face. “What’s wrong?”
    “Smith just called to let me know about some new press.”
    She tried to shrug off the quick hit of panic by joking, “If it’s just more awful pictures of me—”
    “It’s an interview with your ex.”
    At that point, even Ryan’s warm hands on her arms couldn’t keep the chill from moving over her. “What did he say?”
    “Stupid stuff. He’s obviously upset that you’ve moved on.”
    She could see how angry Ryan was, the muscle jumping in his jaw, the murder in his eyes. She looked at his phone on the counter. “Is that what you were reading?”
    Reluctantly, he handed it to her and held her even closer as she started to read, his arms around her obviously meant to hold her steady.
    Vicki’s heart pounded hard as she scanned through the part where Anthony talked about his latest successes and achievements. He’d always been a master of letting people know just how well he was doing without it seeming like bragging. He’d been just as good at tearing her to shreds without her realizing it until she was already married to him—every word from his tongue a sharpened knife.
    Finally, she came to the part of the interview that had her heart thudding almost to a stop in her chest.
     
    Thirty years have come and gone since Anthony Abbott’s first lauded sculpture. I ask him about the many changes we’ve all witnessed in his work over the past three decades, especially in the past twelve months.
    “I know what you’re really asking,” he replies as his self-deprecating laughter fades away, leaving behind something best described as a deep, strong ache. “True love, broken hearts—how can they not impact a person? It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or an accountant, when love comes into your life and turns it upside down, there’s love in everything you do.” He is silent and I can feel him weighing his next words carefully before he softly adds, “And if love leaves—when love leaves—everything you touch is replaced with brutal pain.”
     
    “He always thought he was such a poet,” Vicki snarled.
    “He’s an ass,” Ryan agreed, but she was already reading further...far enough for anger to turn to nausea.
     
    Abbott’s ex-wife is newly engaged. Not to an artist, this time, but to professional baseball player Ryan Sullivan.
    “I wish them nothing but the best,” he tells me as he lights a cigarette and takes a few strong pulls on it. “Perhaps because of what I do, I’ve always been attracted to beauty. Victoria is an undoubtedly beautiful woman, one I knew I