In This Life (18 page)

He loosened his hold on me and shifted his body so that his legs stretched out under the blanket. I lay my head in his lap.

“And this is why I’m letting you go, Anna.”

I jerked my head back in response, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re what?” My wounded pride had overcome my relief.

“I think I made it worse by keeping it from you. You know, the fact that he was a seminarian. If I had told you sooner, I think you would have had your closure. So some of this is my fault, but I really thought that you’d forget him. We meet so many people in this life, look at all the women I’d been with—I thought that he would be the same for you.”

“No, this is all me, Tey. And I’m so sorry. I know it sounds crazy, but I do love you. I’m being selfish, I know.”

“But you’re not in love with me,” he argued. “I love you, Anna, more than anything else in this world. But I deserve more than being the backup guy because he wasn’t coming back. I’m not going to share you with anyone. And I’m done being your second choice. He’s here now. Whether or not you call it fate or a fucked up coincidence. It’s up to you to figure things out, to understand what you truly want. Life is short. We can’t drag this out. I’d like to have a family with you someday, and when that time comes, it wouldn’t be fair to our kids if we didn’t have you with us one hundred percent.” He lifted his eyes to look at me, and they spoke to me more than his words ever could. “You’ve changed. You’re not the same anymore. You’ve lost your spunk, your love for life.”

“I lost my mother and I’ve had to raise my brother. Can you cut me some slack?”

“You lost two people on that day. It’s like a package deal of some sort.”

There were times when he was annoyingly insistent. Today was not one of them. Something was off, but I didn’t want to dwell on it, especially because everything he said was true. The tables had turned on me. And in a way, I knew that his feelings were justified. He continued, “You’ve been through so much, you deserve to find your happiness, your peace. You bring peace to those around you, you take care of people. You need to take care of yourself. Love is like that. I love you and I want what’s best for you.”

His voice was strong, his words articulate. I realized that he was closing the door on us.

“Oh, Tey.” I started to cry. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

But I did hurt him. I caused him so much pain, burdened him all these years with my losses and offered him a half empty heart. He leaned his head back against the bed rail and closed his eyes.

“What happens now? Where do we go from here?” I sobbed, my face contorted in pain and apprehension.

With his eyes still closed, he pulled me towards him and rested my head on his shoulder. “We’re more or less separated anyway. Take the time to see him, talk to him, figure things out. I’ll be in Lake Forest for the holidays, but I’m leaving for Germany the day after I bring Mikey back here from Chicago. They’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse, so I’ll be setting up a new office there.”

“How long?” I asked, concerned mostly for myself. I would miss him so much while he was gone.

“Three months. I’ll be back in three months.” He seemed conflicted, as if he was fighting a feud inside of him. “Maybe then you’ll have your shit together.”

“Why does this seem so easy for you?” I challenged, swiping my hand across my face to dry my tears. I needed to be strong for him. I would make this work—train my heart to love only one, and in three months, he would have me back.

“Easy? Five years isn’t easy, Spark. It’s been that long. You told me it was going to be a fling, nothing more, and look where we are five years later. You’re right. You’re in love with a ghost, and you need to exorcise it from your soul.”

“You’re right,” I agreed fully. “And I’m so out to sea at this point. But I’ll find my way back. Just you wait.”

“Don’t promise anything you can’t keep. Figure things out and we’ll see, okay?” He stroked my hair as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Get your groove back, Spark. Take it back from him. No one should be able to steal you away from you.”

“I know.”

“I love you, Anna.”

I no longer wanted to take those words for granted. Whenever we ran out of words, this is what he would say to me. And everything would always fall into place.

“And I love you, Dante.”

We locked eyes for a time before I settled myself back in the crook of his neck. I no longer resented the sound of Christmas music drifting in through the walls. The cracks on the ceiling, the lint balls tucked tightly in the corner opposite the bed, the wooden rosary and the gilded rosary, I saw them all despite the shadows in the room.

“But you’re still angry,” he stated.

“Yes. At you, at Maggie. And at Jude.”

He brushed my hair with his fingers. “For simply showing up?”

“Yes,” I answered. He had no business coming back.”

He nodded his head in agreement.

I continued, “And our lies. You and me. We both lied to each other.”

He took a sharp breath and swallowed loudly. The shine in his eyes was replaced by a cloud of tears. “And so this is how we suffer for it. Those irreparable lies.”

I ducked my head and hid myself in his arms. For a while, we both strained to listen to the merriment around us. Our tears fell simultaneously, a drop of his, a drop of mine. In the solitude of our tears, we were searching desperately for our peace.

I held his wrist and ran my fingers over his watch. “Do you really like it, Tey? The watch?”

“I will wear this watch every day until I see you again.”

I felt his body go limp. He was tired from the long wintry drive, and I assumed that he would fall asleep soon.

“Tey?”

“Hmm.”

“Why can’t we figure this out together?” I declared in all stubbornness. “Why can’t I figure this out with you by my side?”

“What do you think we’ve been doing for five years?” he answered curtly. “No. This is your deal. It’s time to make a choice.”

The girl with everything to say was, for once, at a loss for words.

I squeezed him tightly and held him until he fell asleep. Dante had always been a heavy sleeper, so he didn’t budge when I unwrapped myself from him to walk back to the living room to make myself another cup of tea. Mikey was fast asleep on the couch, and the timer on the Christmas lights had just turned itself off. The house was dark, and yet it felt like a subtle light was shining on the three of us that night.

It’s believed that Christmas is the season of rebirth, of new beginnings, of the casting out of sins, and the dawning of new hope. For the first time in my life, I trusted in this truth, placed all my confidence in it. A feeling of melancholy washed over me as I embraced the stillness of that night. The world didn’t end with the integrity of our words; from that day forward, there would be no more secrets, and our lives would be lived in honesty.

It was the simplest of premises, really. Nothing trumps a magnanimous heart.

Dante woke up the next day and found me asleep on the couch.

I stayed there that night, crying tears of loss until the sunlight streaming through the windows threatened to expose me. He climbed in next to me, held me for a few minutes, brushed his lips against mine, and walked out the door.

“I want a trouble maker

For a lover,

Blood spiller,

Blood drinker,

A heart of flame

Who quarrels with the sky

And fights with fate,

Who burns like fire

On the rushing sea.”

—Rumi

“GRAY, PLEASE REMEMBER.”

When she’d uttered those last two words, she cast a spell on me. All I did was “remember,” for how on earth could I forget? I relived our days in the sun and under the moon, our dances in the rain. I recalled the touch of the tips of her fingers, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice.

That kiss at the hut, the last time I ever touched her lips.

I saw my future in that kiss. I wanted to live for it, die for it, to plan my life around it. For years, I allowed it to sustain me. And in keeping me alive, it had killed me. I was a stranger to myself, a man filled with a longing that couldn’t be fulfilled. I spent the next few years in a desperate bid to rebuild, to recoup, to convince myself that my truths still existed. And in the end, all that was left was the misery of living a life that I despised. A life without hope. A life without purpose. A life without her.

In the end, I was a coward. I ran away from the endless possibilities offered to me by that one kiss.

The thing is, it all catches up with you in the end. Unless you face your fears, you’ll be running away all your life.

The door to the apartment was slightly ajar. From the outside, I could hear laughter and music and lively conversation. With much hesitation, I walked in to find my roommate in the embrace of a woman I didn’t recognize. Peter jumped up, embarrassed by the sudden intrusion. Frankly, I was indifferent. I’d been walking around for two hours after she’d left me at the park, and was relieved to see that he had company tonight. There was hope that this would help deflect his attention away from me and steer him from any unnecessary dialogue. I needed to buy time, despite the fact that it was something I didn’t have much of these days.

“How’d it go, man?” he asked as his lady friend raided the fridge. She popped open a bottle of beer and leaned against the counter, her eyes following my every move. Peter was fully dressed, although the unbuttoned shirt he wore gave him away. For a moment, we stood rooted in place, assessing the need for more conversation. All around us were unopened moving boxes, some his, some mine, and a week’s worth of mail strategically strewn all over the floor.

“Fine.” I didn’t turn to address him. I continued along until I reached my bedroom door, ready to immerse myself in the familiarity of my only private space. I was hoping that the silence would bring me some answers. Some solace at least from the unraveling of my truth, the unfolding of my lies merely two days ago.

“It’s my mistake. I should have seen this coming. Years ago, when you returned from Thailand, you were different.” Father Scott paced back and forth in front of me, his voice echoing through the walls of a now very empty church. I sat in the front pew, head in my hands, elbows on my lap. I noticed that the altar boys had forgotten to snuff out the candles by the tabernacle. “You were supposed to be over it, Jude! Over her! You said it was under control, and that you were certain!”

“I’m sorry, Father Scott. I made a mistake.”

His voice was forceful, more pensive and direct, not angry. I didn’t know how much of his emotions were directed at me for being at this crossroad, or at himself for denying the warning signs. He had been nothing but reassuring to me, a true spiritual guide who encouraged me to think independently. I had lied to him and I was the only one to blame. I lifted my head up to look at him. He stared right back, as if trying to recognize who I was. “You lied to me, Jude. She was right here, right next to your parish. You didn’t tell me that. What did you expect to happen? Did you think that one day it would just fix itself? Are you happy about the scene you pulled today?”

“Of course not!” I declared in defiance. I had nothing else to say to that. I knew he just wouldn’t be able to understand how, after all the soul searching I had done, I was still as confused five years later as I had been from the first day that I met her. I knew he would never be able to feel the joy and validation that I felt when she looked into my eyes and tears began to form in hers, the pain in her voice, her anger. They all meant something. I still meant something. That momentary high was the only thing that helped me to survive the next blow.

Married.

They were married.

Everything in that house had been so put together, so well appointed. I wondered whether that was how they lived their life. Everything according to plan.

“You have to make a choice!” he shouted. “A choice, Jude!”