Mr.Brightside

Chapter 67

Jack's Reflection

The drive home from the gallery was quiet. Clara leaned her head against the window, her fingers lightly tracing the condensation on the glass, a soft smile still lingering on her lips. I glanced over at her every now and then, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in a long time. Tonight had been hers, a night where she shined brighter than ever. But it wasn't just her success that made me feel this way. It was the way she had let me in, the way we had found each other again.

The past few months had tested us, pushed us to the edge of what we thought we could handle. But somehow, through all the missteps and misunderstandings, we had come out stronger. We had found a new rhythm, one that wasn't about pretending everything was fine or ignoring the problems. We had faced them, together.

As the headlights cut through the darkness, I couldn't help but think about the cabinet waiting for me back in the workshop. It wasn't finished yet, but tonight, I felt the urgency to complete it. Not because of some deadline or pressure, but because it symbolized everything I hadn't been able to say out loud. It was my way of showing Clara that I was ready, really ready, to build a life with her. Something tangible, something real.

I had always been better with my hands than with words. Working with wood was simple—predictable. You could see the grain, understand the knots, feel the texture and shape it into something beautiful. Relationships weren't like that. They were messy, unpredictable, full of twists and turns you couldn't always plan for. But maybe that was part of what made them worth it.

The Workshop

The next morning, after dropping Clara off at her place, I headed straight to the workshop. The smell of sawdust and the familiar clatter of tools grounded me as I set to work on the cabinet. Every time I touched the wood, it reminded me of Clara—strong, steady, with layers that revealed themselves the closer you looked.

I had decided to add one last touch, something I had thought about for days but hadn't been sure of until now. A small, carved heart, hidden on the inside of one of the drawers. It wasn't the kind of thing anyone would see unless they were really looking, but it was there. Just like the love I felt for Clara, quiet and enduring, even when it wasn't spoken aloud.

As the hours passed, the cabinet took on a life of its own. The tree I had carved into the front panel was finished now, its branches stretching wide, reaching for the sky, just like us. There were imperfections in the wood, little nicks and rough spots I couldn't sand away, but I didn't want to. They were part of the story, part of the journey.

When I finally stepped back to look at the finished piece, I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. It wasn't perfect, but it was real. Just like us.

A Surprise for Clara

That evening, I called Clara and asked her to come over. I didn't tell her about the cabinet, didn't give her any hints about what I had been working on. I just asked her to trust me, to let me show her something.

When she arrived, her eyes lit up with curiosity. "What's this about, Jack?"

I smiled, taking her hand and leading her into the workshop. The cabinet stood in the middle of the room, polished and gleaming in the soft light. Her breath caught as she took it in, her fingers tracing the carved tree on the front panel.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

I stood behind her, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "It's for you. For us."

She turned to look at me, her eyes wide and shining. "Jack... I don't even know what to say. You made this?"

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. "I wanted to make something that lasts. Something that's not just about the past, but about the future. About everything we've been through and everything we're building."

Clara's fingers brushed over the carvings again, lingering on the details, the rough edges. "It's perfect," she said softly, her voice full of emotion. "Thank you."

I reached for her hand, pulling her into a hug. She fit perfectly against me, just like she always had. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I didn't have to hold back anymore. I didn't have to be afraid of what came next, because whatever it was, we would face it together.

"I love you," I whispered into her hair, the words coming easily now, without hesitation.

Clara pulled back just enough to look up at me, her eyes shining. "I love you, too. More than I can even put into words."

We stood there in the workshop, surrounded by the tools and wood shavings, by the cabinet that now held so much meaning for both of us. It was a quiet moment, but it was everything.

Moving Forward

In the days that followed, we fell into a new rhythm, one that felt steady and sure. The exhibit had been a success, and Clara was already getting offers for future shows, but now it didn't feel like a threat to our relationship. It felt like an opportunity—one we could navigate together.

We didn't have all the answers, but we didn't need to. What mattered was that we were in this, fully and completely, ready to face whatever came our way. The cabinet sat in Clara's apartment now, a symbol of everything we had built and everything we were still building.

And as I watched her carve out her own path, just as I was carving out mine, I knew one thing for sure: we were ready for whatever came next. Together.

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