‘Aydin!’
Blood trickled through his fingers covering his mouth. He let his hand drop, and I gasped; his top lip was badly split. He looked at me with the strangest expression. ‘Just go.’
Fern tossed her head back and whinnied.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so sorry.’
He looked at the blood coating his hand. ‘I don’t want to be with you.’
‘You’re lying.’
Black eyes seized mine. ‘No. I’m not. In fact, I’ve never said a more honest word in my life.’
The agony, my humiliation, knowing I had lost him—suddenly it was all too much. ‘I’ll never forgive you!’ I screamed.
His whole body seized, and a cold expression masked his face. ‘Goodbye Callie, I wish you all the happiness in the world.’
Without another word, he stepped forward, slapping Fern’s flank. She squealed and lunged, flying away from the stables as though the demons of hell were chasing her.
***
The ride home was a blur and the next few weeks were not any better. I lay in bed and refused to move, hardly eating, rarely speaking. Bradley was beside himself with worry. He asked several times if he could fetch the doctor, but I refused every time. Eventually, he brought him anyway.
The sparse-haired old man fussed around for some time, touching my forehead, feeling my pulse. He made knowing clucks, nodding his head at appropriate intervals. Bradley watched his every move terrified, silently waiting for the verdict. Eventually, he stood and faced Bradley. He seemed surprised by his fearful expression. A small grin creased his careworn face. He took a deep breath before speaking a touch too loudly. ‘Cheer up old chap, nothing to worry about here. You’re going to be a father.’
The words hit like ice water. I lay in bed stunned and disorientated. Bradley laughed out loud, and the doctor huffed.
After a heartfelt thank you and vigorous handshake Bradley was by my side. ‘Did you hear that my darling? We are going to have a baby.’ He was positively beaming.
I struggled to form what I thought was a smile. He leaped off the bed declaring he would tell his parents. Then he was gone.
The doctor fussed a while longer before leaving instructions with the servants. I lay there alone with my thoughts, the obvious statement screaming in my mind. Who was the father? A new form of horror descended.
I rolled over and lay motionless till I fell asleep.
Everyone was delighted, except me. Not that I was unhappy about having a baby, but it was hard to concentrate on all the excited talk when I could think of nothing but Aydin. I felt so guilty knowing how desperately I wanted to see a resemblance to Aydin when it was born, but at the same time, I hoped it wouldn’t be too apparent to the rest of the world.
Nine months passed quickly, and the whole time I kept my ears open for news on Aydin. I saw his father twice during the pregnancy, but both times my over-enthusiastic enquires were met with a concerned expression and mumblings of ‘going all right I think. Haven’t heard a great deal. Very busy I imagine.’
I wanted to ask more, but I also didn’t want to arouse suspicion.
Eventually, the day of the birth arrived. It was excruciatingly painful, nearly twelve hours of labor—but in a way, those twelve hours were a relief. The agony at least drove the constant images of Aydin from my head.
When I heard the cry of my newborn son, I was so exhausted I could barely move. A barrage of people appeared. After a cry of ‘It’s a boy’, someone thought to hand him to me.
The first thing I noticed was thick brown hair, he was so beautiful with his pink skin and screwed-up face. I brought him to my chest, and his eyes flickered open, ripping the breath from my throat. Even at this young age, I knew exactly who his father was… And it wasn’t Bradley. I glanced around, certain everyone would see my deceit, but I only saw smiling faces.
Soon Bradley appeared to admire our baby. He was proud beyond description, and his absolute adoration only flamed my guilt. ‘Look, darling, he has my nose,’ he commented.
I nearly laughed at the irony, but I settled for a simple smile instead. I knew at that moment he would never see this boy as anything other than his son and I was glad for it—the alternative was unthinkable. I already had enough love for this child to know I would do anything for him. And I would also have my little piece of Aydin that no one could ever take away.
Having found a purpose in life my emotional state improved. My son, William Bradley Keene, was a constant source of joy. I accepted my lot in life, and I was grateful for all that I had, but it didn’t stop my thoughts straying to Aydin every day.
For years, I heard nothing; it was as though Aydin had been erased from everyone’s memories. His father still lived on the estate, but he was prone to illness and rarely left his cottage.
I tried to visit him several times, but the servants always had an excuse for why I couldn’t see him, and eventually I just gave up.
***
On William’s third birthday, Aydin’s father died. His funeral was to be held at the church where Bradley and I were married. My family would attend, but I had no idea if Aydin would be there or not.
On the day of the service, I dressed slowly, my nerves fraying like worn silk. I looked down at my son playing at my feet, oblivious to everything. I toyed with feigning illness so I wouldn’t have to go—if Aydin were there and saw him, he’d know without a doubt that he was his father. It also worried me that others would see the resemblance, but there was no justification for not going. If Aydin wasn’t there, I owed it to him and his father to pay my respects. And if he came, then so be it, I would face my demons.
The weather was threatening, and the dark clothes of the mourners matched the brewing clouds too well. Searching the crowd, I knew almost everyone there; it was like a collection of childhood memories summed up in a collage of faces. But the one person I looked for most, was not there—I was both relieved and devastated, just not surprised.
As my family accumulated a cold wind blew through the gathering, and the crowd began to move, expecting the heavens to open. I took William’s hand, but he slipped free darting towards the newborn lambs in an adjacent field. Bradley went to retrieve him.
I placed a hand on his arm. ‘I will fetch William.’
Bradley nodded, the thought of a few minutes alone appealed greatly. I went over to my son and unconvincingly chastised him for his behavior.
He gave me a chubby grin. ‘Wook. Wamb.’
I couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly a chill ran through me, I could feel someone watching. I spun to see a dark figure leaning against the church wall—hunched and staring at the ground, his fingers twisted through his fringe aggressively. I didn’t know him, and I instantly felt uneasy.
As I moved to retrieve William, the man’s head lifted, and the world went still—it was Aydin. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, he was a shadow of his former self, too thin, unshaven, and aged beyond his years. Deep purple rings encompassed his dark eyes, and he looked so tired, but at the same time, he seemed too alert. He stared without recognition, and my heart raced. Something was wrong—this couldn’t be the man I loved, but I knew without doubt, it was.
I gathered myself and attempted to hide my shock. Leaving my son at the fence, I walked to him. His face remained unchanged; he looked even worse up close.
‘Aydin. I am so sorry for your loss. My condolences to you and your family.’
His head tilted and his eyes blinked erratically. His irises were no longer warm brown, they had changed to cold, bottomless black pools. I wondered when he’d last smiled.
‘Thank you Lady Carolyn, it is good of you to come. I didn’t think you would.’
His voice was as alarming as his appearance, rough and husky it had lost the smooth depths that had once thrilled me. It was horrible, and I knew I should excuse myself, but I needed to know where he’d been.
I stepped closer. ‘Aydin, what happened to you? I’ve been beside myself w
ith worry. Please talk to me.’
He looked only slightly surprised by my unladylike outburst. A crooked grin smeared his face. ‘I haven’t been well, but it is nothing to concern yourself with, my Lady.’
I clutched my gloved hands together. ‘But I am concerned. How could I not be?’
His expression hardened, as his eyes searched mine. ‘Did you know you were the only thing in my life that ever resembled any light?’
‘Aydin?’
‘My world has been dark for a while now,’ he continued. ‘And I’m not sure I even remember where the light is.’ He glanced at the sky as though looking for something I couldn’t see. His attention soon returned, and he looked scared. ‘You were part of my soul Callie and without you there to make it whole…I fear I’ve lost the part I had left.’
I didn’t know how to respond. What did this rambling mean? He just stood there looking at me, as though trying to absorb the lost light he’d spoken of.
At that moment William grabbed my hand. A pout shaped his pink lips as he frowned at Aydin, and then retreated to the folds of my skirt.
Aydin looked down; a slow frown dipped his brow. ‘How old is he?’ he asked.
‘He just turned three.’
I saw the calculation in his head, and a sudden jolt brought him upright. Shocked out of his incoherent state, he looked more like my Aydin again.
‘Callie…I…I didn’t know. I would never have left. I’m so sorry. I…’
I stopped him by placing a hand on his cheek. I could feel how cold he was, even through my glove, and I prayed no one could see us. Closing his eyes, he brought a hand to cover mine, at least they still held some warmth. He leaned into my touch, his mouth twitched, and I could see a faint scar on his top lip, a reminder of our last night together. The pain in my chest soared.
He opened his eyes slowly, looking first to our son then back at me. ‘You always were my angel,’ he whispered. ‘I will never forget you. I am…so, so very sorry.’
His hand slipped, and he walked towards the front of the church.
‘Aydin wait,’ I called, but he did not stop.
I followed when it I felt it was safe, assuming he had gone into the church, but when I went inside, there was no sign of him. I hesitated, torn. William tugged on my hand dragging me to where our family sat. I followed too numb to fight.
Just before we took our place, William looked up. ‘Mama, who was that man?’
I stared into eyes, the exact replica of those I’d just seen. My weak smile was a thin mask hiding a pain that words could never describe.
‘He, my love…is transcendental.’
***
I never heard from, or saw, Aydin again. I went on to have more children, and I was blessed in so many ways. I wanted for nothing, and it remained a mystery why the heavens shone so brightly on me after all I’d done wrong.
Many years later as I lay dying with friends and family surrounding me, I searched each face feeling the love and happiness they’d all so easily given. It was then at the back of the room that I saw the handsome young man watching, and I cursed my failing eyes because he looked so much like Aydin. Tears welled, and I reached for him.
He threaded through the small gathering taking my hand. No one else seemed to see him, but his touch warmed my frail skin and even frailer heart.
As I drew my final breath, he smiled, and his eyes shone the glorious dark chestnut of our childhood. I knew he wasn’t real, but I didn’t care…because on that night, at that moment, in that one and only life—I died a happy woman.
Chapter 7
Hollow, so very hollow—it was the only way I could describe how I felt as I plunged into my rough, alien sea. The waves crashed, and I couldn’t see anything. Slipping below the surface, I didn’t fight. I was happy to let go, glad to be finished, I couldn’t do this anymore, I just wanted to forget.
Suddenly a surge pushed me upwards freeing my head long enough to see an island of rock only meters away. On top stood a fuzzy figure.
‘Swim Callie. You cannot give up.’
The urgency in his voice cleared the haze. Sensation came back to my legs, and I kicked towards the rock. A large swell thrust me forward, and I slammed into the stone, the air knocked from my lungs. I clung to the slippery surface as the retreating water sucked at my legs. Hands grabbed my wrists yanking me upwards, and I fell at Isaac’s feet.
Another wave smashed into the rock, spraying a fine mist over the two of us. I rolled onto my back, gasping. Isaac crouched down, placing his hands over my sternum; fear shadowed his gray eyes. Soft, orange fingers of light trickled from his palm, seeping into my chest—welcome air filled my starving lungs. He dropped to his knees with his hands on his thighs. All I could think was how strange it looked—an old man dressed in a brown suit, kneeling on a bare rock in the middle of a violent ocean.
As I calmed so did the water. I sat up and regarded Isaac’s weary face. My whole body was shivering, making it difficult to speak. ‘Wa…was that the last time I saw him?’
Isaac sucked in his lips. ‘Yes, I think so.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘I cannot answer that.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
Isaac didn’t reply. I wanted to scream, to demand he tell me, but I knew he wouldn’t, and he looked so exhausted. ‘And Bradley, he was a good man. He’ll know what I did when he sees his past lives won’t he?’
‘Yes, but you need to understand, it was his decision as much as it was yours.’
‘What?’
‘Almost every mistake we make is planned long before we make it. Souls often commit at the beginning of each life, promising to help the other learn. Pain can be a cruel teacher, but it is also a very effective one.’
I shook my head trying to stay focused. ‘But that’s not what happened with Aydin, is it? He didn’t choose that. He didn’t choose to have his heart broken again.’
The corners of his mouth creased. ‘No Callie he did not. Then again, neither did you.’
Tears filled my eyes. ‘But he must be somewhere, there are more lives after that one, I can feel them. I just can’t feel him. Are you sure we didn’t find each other again?’
He smiled faintly. ‘If you feel the need to search for him, then do.’
I didn’t think twice; I dived back into the water.
I searched every existence that followed, countless times, but it was pointless. I never saw him; I never felt him, ever again. Eventually, I ran out of lives; it was done, and Aydin was nowhere to be found. For the last time, I dragged myself from the water.
Isaac left me to grieve and grieve I did. Centuries, millennia, I don’t know which, but finally I gained an uncomfortable acceptance for the things I couldn’t change. I realized that mourning was achieving nothing, and it was time to leave.
Isaac appeared just as the sun slipped into my settling sea. The sun had never set on my beach before, and we stood side by side, watching it disappear.
‘Why was it always daytime?’ I whispered.
He clucked thoughtfully. ‘The light gives us strength.’
‘But I like the night.’
‘So do I,’ he replied.
I glanced at him. ‘So what now?’
He turned to face me. After all this time, he hadn’t changed a bit—his gray hair hadn’t grown, his clothes were the same, and his smile still outshone the sun. ‘It is your turn to guide another,’ he said, matter of fact.
I huffed with confusion. ‘You’d think after all this time I’d know what you were talking about.’
He smiled kindly. ‘You are to become a guardian.’
I wrapped my arms around my waist. ‘You mean…like a guardian angel?’
‘Yes, that is exactly what I mean.’
I grimaced in disbelief. ‘They are real?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Angels are souls that, like you, have fulfilled their human experience. Each is given a human ward, to watch, to guide and to learn fr
om.’
‘But I’ve never seen an angel.’
‘We are, for the most part, unseen and unheard. Communication happens on an emotional level. Inspiration and comfort is how we convey our messages. We rarely take human form unless we have to.’
I lifted my jaw. ‘Are…are you my guardian?’
‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
‘But I saw you, all the time. You said angels are unseen.’
Isaac’s eyebrows tightened. ‘I said mostly unseen. Yours was…an exceptional case. After what happened with Samuel, we thought it wise to stay close.’ I wondered who ‘we,’ was, but I didn’t get a chance to ask. ‘It is a lot to take in I know,’ he added. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you have learned about Earth?’
The sudden change in topic threw me. ‘Sorry? What?’
‘Now you have relived your past lives, has your view of the world changed?’
‘Um, yes. I guess so.’
‘Then tell me.’
I looked at him slightly baffled, but his encouraging nod helped me answer. ‘The Earth isn’t solid,’ I dared to whisper. His proud smile spurred me on. ‘It’s like…an energy, a blueprint of instructions that tell humans what to see, to feel, to smell.’
‘And why do you think that is?’
‘It’s easier.’
‘Yes,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘A physical world is easier for young souls to learn in. Tell me more.’
His contagious energy brought a soft smile to my lips. ‘When they build or change things, the energy rearranges itself so the next human can see it too. A bit like virtual reality, only on a massive scale.’
Isaac grinned. ‘And it is even easier for angels. We can change most things with merely a thought.’
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