Eight Months Later
‘CARIÑO, WE’RE GOING to be late.’
Ramon thought it wise not to raise his voice above a gentle murmur, seeing as, when it came to this particular subject, his wife was prone to falling apart at the slightest provocation.
That plan backfired spectacularly.
‘And whose fault is that?’ she snapped. ‘Just one picture, you said. No one will notice, you said.’
He winced. ‘I’m sorry your pictures turned out to be an international sensation, guapa.’
‘No, you’re not. You crow to everyone who comes within shouting distance that you’re my husband. That you’re the reason I look the way I look in those pictures.’
‘Well...to be fair—’
‘Don’t you dare. I don’t want to hear it. And I didn’t want to be the star of your silly gallery exhibit.’
‘Okay, then we’ll stay home.’
The door to the bathroom flew open. And Ramon was eternally glad he was leaning against the bed frame. Because like always, he struggled to catch his breath whenever he looked at her. The love of his life grew more beautiful each day. She’d become his everything. His wife. His muse. The mother of his child.
His most intense lover.
The sculpture he’d made from the sketches of her on the granite slab had turned out to be too intimate to share with the world, so he’d sculpted another, a mother-son one, which now resided in a special garden at their home in Cienfuegos.
Framed to perfection in the doorway, she flipped golden caramel hair over one shoulder. ‘No, you won’t cancel. I’ve already been called a diva for showing up five minutes late to the last exhibit.’
Ramon wisely stopped from pointing out that preventing tardiness was why they needed to leave now. Personally, he wouldn’t care if they turned up an hour late, or not at all. But Suki was unused to media scrutiny and still sensitive to being the centre of attention.
Sadly, she’d been thrown in the deep end when the semi-intimate black-and-white photos he’d taken of her with their son had taken the world by storm. Pictures where she’d been breastfeeding, bathing or just taking a nap with Lorenzo. The purity of her beauty had publishing houses clamouring to sign her up to coffee-table portrait book deals.
So far she’d resisted all offers, choosing to only exhibit at Piedra’s Havana gallery. Even then, she tore strips off him each time she had to appear in public. But as always, Ramon knew he only needed to get her there. Because the moment she saw the super-sized pictures of their son, her heart melted.
He witnessed that transformation forty-five minutes later as she stood in front of the second to largest picture of all. It was another black-and-white print where she was watching Lorenzo sleep. The awe and love on her face was a shining beacon that was impossible to look away from.
He approached her from behind, admiring her post-pregnancy body draped in a white sleeveless floor-length gown. Sliding his arm around her waist, he breathed in her perfume as she leaned back against him.
‘He really is a gorgeous baby, isn’t he?’ she sighed happily.
‘Of course. He’s my son.’
She rolled her eyes but turned to bestow a kiss on him. One that lingered and lingered some more until a throat cleared loudly nearby.
Ramon smiled indulgently as his mother-in-law joined them with his nine-week-old son cradled in her arms.
The second star of the show was asleep and gently snoring. But his grandmother couldn’t keep her eyes off him. ‘He really is a gorgeous baby, isn’t he?’ she sighed.
They all laughed, Suki’s eyes shining extra brightly as they lit on her mother. Moira had come through the cutting-edge treatment with flying colours and been given the all-clear six months ago. With a new lease on life, she’d ditched her job in favour of solo world travel four months ago, only taking a hiatus when her grandson had been born. She was headed to Australia in two weeks and was getting as much time with her grandchild as possible.
Ramon didn’t mind. He welcomed the extra time he got with his wife. Moira drifted away to show Lorenzo off to guests, and, almost by telepathy, he and Suki drifted to the largest picture of the exhibit.
Luis was smiling at someone off camera, his young vibrant face turned up to the sun. The teasing twinkle in his eyes was captured for all eternity, something Ramon would be grateful for for ever.
‘I miss him,’ he admitted gruffly, the pain now dulled with happier memories but never forgotten.
Suki turned from her best friend’s image and looked into her husband’s eyes. ‘Me too,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so grateful to have known him, albeit too briefly. For the beautiful soul that he was and also because he brought you to me.’
He leaned down, rested his forehead against hers as he was wont to do when emotion got too much for him. When the moment subsided, they walked on, hand in hand, stopping to talk about paintings or conversing with guests.
The sudden clink of glasses stopped her in her tracks. A prominent curator and art columnist whose name she couldn’t quite remember was smiling at the gathering guests.
‘We’ve been keeping it under wraps, but, since it’ll be in the papers tomorrow, we wanted to formally take the opportunity to announce the formation of the new charity for children’s art. It’s in honour of Ramon’s brother and will be named the Luis Acosta Foundation for Children’s Art. Suki Acosta will be its leading patron and has already donated a staggering quarter of a million pounds.’
Rousing applause went through the large crowd. Then she clinked her glass again. ‘We also have a special surprise this evening, again, to be announced tomorrow, but I do love letting the cat out of the bag.’ She paused for laughter before continuing, ‘Anyway, it’s my pleasure to announce that the prestigious White Palm Photography Award this year goes to our dear Ramon for the simply named but utterly divine photo known as Suki & Lorenzo.’
An image of the very first picture Ramon had taken of her son and her was projected onto the large screen. She’d woken up from a wonderful dream just as Lorenzo too had opened his eyes. They’d been captured staring at each other with eyes full of transcendental wonder and magical hope.
Singularly her most favourite picture in the world; happy tears filled Suki’s eyes as she applauded and kissed her husband.
‘I’m so proud of you.’
He gave his usual one-sided smile, then caught her hand in his to pull her towards the stage.
‘What are you doing? They came here to see you,’ she whispered.
‘No. You are my true muse because you own my heart. I can’t breathe without you, or live without you. I wouldn’t want to. So you need to take your bow, mi amor, because it’s really you they’ve come to see.’
She stepped up onto the stage beside him, blinking back further tears as more applause broke out. ‘Oh, God, you choose the worst moments to say the most wonderful things.’
He gave a very short, very poignant speech, then stepped off the stage and pulled her close. ‘I say them because they’re true. I say them because I love you. Dios mio, I love you so much, Suki.’
‘I love you more.’
* * * * *