The Picture

by Stephanie Taylor

  “Hey,” he said softly. “If you're not okay with this, I'll hire someone to take care of Jessica.”

  I finally met his gaze and ignored the yearning I felt for his touch. “This isn't about me. I think you need to be there for Jessica. I think that she needs closure. Not just for Emily but for you, too.”

  Outright shock registered on his face. “Me? Why me?”

  “You know why. She never understood why you left her.”

  “What did she say to you in there?”

  I tried to smile, knew it fell short, and finally shook my head. “It doesn't matter.”

  “It does matter!” He spoke forcefully, emphasizing each word, but I knew his anger wasn't necessarily directed at me. Rather, he was frustrated by the recent turn of events.

  “No, Nicholas. What matters right now is everything but us.”

  “You're just going to dismiss everything we feel for each other because we've hit a bump in the road?”

  Accusations weren't going to make things any better. I held my hands up in defense. “I don't think we should talk about this right now.”

  “I think we should.”

  We glared, neither of us willing to budge.

  I finally slumped in defeat. “What do you want from me?”

  “I just want you, Sophie. I need you,” he whispered, taking a step toward me.

  Our physical attraction muddled my brain even further. “Nicholas...” I shook my head, but the intense way he studied my mouth told me he needed me more than his words conveyed.

  Because I loved him, I allowed him to kiss me. Our union was raw and savage, matching my emotions perfectly. I tried to focus only on the physical, but instead, my mind kept wandering to Jessica's words...

  It's just what he does. He'll be gone soon, just you wait.

  What a fool I was to allow this. Or was I an even bigger fool for believing Jessica? But in this situation, Jessica had the upper hand of experience.

  Nicholas was a patient lover, but even he got irritated with my lack of response. He pulled away, the frustration pouring from his lungs and exiting his nostrils in quick breaths. He turned to leave but then seemed to think better of it.

  “What did she say about me?" Nicholas was intense and single-minded. He clasped my upper arms, forcing me to look at him. "Did she tell you that I was afraid of commitment? That I would leave you like I did her?”

  I jerked away from him and pulled my coat around me tighter to ward off the cold. I didn't know how to answer so I shrugged. Too much had happened in one day. I really couldn't make sense of anything. But my mind was already made up, regardless.

  “Fine, have it your way.”

  I watched him walk to his car, my insides aching with a familiar loneliness. It would kill me to watch him leave, but I knew however we played our cards, this was the inevitable outcome.

  I took a step toward him and called, “From the first night I met you, this whole relationship has been about the physical. No matter how much we make love or how much we pretend that we're not different, we both know this is never going to work.”

  He kept his back to me. “What do you want from me, Sophie?” Abruptly, he turned and smacked his palm against the hood of the car with a loud thud. “I told you I love you and I mean it. What do you want me to do from here? Sign a contract with my blood?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don't be dramatic, Nicholas.”

  “Why don't you give me some idea where this is coming from?”

  Leaning against the apartment building, I studied my feet. “Reality. It's coming from reality. Not just with Jessica, but the days we spent together during the snowstorm, how we're connected to Emily. This isn't about love, Nicholas. Not for you. You feel obligated to me because I helped Emily. You're projecting that obligation into what you want to believe is love.” I looked at him, allowing the full force of his hurt to pour over me. I decided it was best not to bring the picture into all of this. Everything was complicated enough, and when it was all said and done, it didn't really matter anyway.

  “Obligation?” He made it sound like an ugly word. “You think I feel obligated to you?” I saw the brightness in his eyes and looked away. I couldn't bear to see him cry. “A lunch date is an obligation. Sending a birthday card is an obligation. Jessica is an obligation, Sophie. Loving you is not an obligation. But right now I wish it was.”

  My eyes drifted close. The harshness of his words saddened me and I couldn't help the tears.

  “I'm sorry,” he muttered and walked toward me.

  "Don't!" I held up my hand. “I think it's time you leave.”

  Nicholas's gaze raked over my face. Resignation and acceptance soon had him opening the car door. As if something physically held him back, he walked to me once more, stopping within an arm's reach, but not attempting to touch me. His eyes contained uncertainty that tugged at my heart.

  “Why do I feel if I drive away I'm never going to see you again?”

  He wanted reassurance. I couldn't give it to him.

  "Sophie..." He took my hand in his, his voice low and his eyes now suspiciously bright.

  I studied our hands, fitted so perfectly together. His strength resonated through me, and the knowledge that I was saving us both a lot of trouble helped me meet his eyes. “Because you won't.”

  “So that's it? You're choosing not to fight for this? For us?”

  I nodded.

  His lips pressed together. After a moment, he released me and walked away.

  The soft hum of the car engine felt like the grand finale to the tragedy that seemed to be my life. When I was certain he wasn't returning, I turned toward my apartment, and realized my cheeks were soaked with tears.

  Chapter 15

  Gifts began arriving after a week.

  The first week, there was a bouquet of a dozen red roses with a note that simply read: I love you. I closed my eyes for a moment, considering the fact he probably did think he loved me. After the snowstorm and convincing himself Emily's wish should be honored, I didn't really doubt him. What I doubted was his ability to recognize what he was doing, not only to me, but himself.

  Jessica made a valid point when she said music was in his blood. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I didn't want to be involved in a public life. And if Nicholas went back to his music, once again we were both left with the same outcome. Alone.

  The second week, Nicholas sent an apple pie. I smiled when I saw what it was. The note read: It's not homemade, sorry.

  The next couple of weeks were silent. No phone calls, no gifts, no emails. My heart grew emptier and emptier. I wondered if those few gifts were his only attempt to win me back. It wasn't like I expected anything from him, but it seemed like he gave up too easy if he loved me the way he claimed to. But I told myself it was for the best.

  On Valentine's Day, I received a box in the mail. With no return address I could only guess it was from Nicholas. I opened it and saw the flat, velvet box from a local jeweler renowned for his one of a kind designs and high prices.

  The box creaked as I opened it. My heart pounded in my chest when I saw what it was. Then tears formed and a sob escaped. The necklace, on a beautiful platinum chain, had a three diamond charm attached to it. The diamonds were stacked on top of each other, in perfect proportion to form a snowman. A note was tucked in the lid of the box and I unfolded it. I miss you.

  I carefully replaced the note and put the necklace in the back of my drawer. I didn't want to think about our time together. I didn't need a reminder hung around my neck like a noose. Eventually, he would stop.

  A new gift came each Friday. I stopped accepting them and asked the courier to return each package to Nicholas. February turned into March and March into April. Spring was in full bloom. New life was all around me. I took the opportunity to refocus my life. I gave more of myself to my job than ever before and made up my mind to stop moping.

  I began a new life, too. One without grief. Sure, I’d always miss Victoria and
Emily, but the time had come to move on. Emily had taught me so many things, and knowing she was with Victoria, looking over her, playing with her or simply sitting with her in a bed of lilies, brought a smile to my face. Even though I wanted them here with me, I couldn’t deny their suffering was over and they were happy.

  Later that month, I was grocery shopping and as I stood in the checkout lane, I saw Nicholas's picture on a tabloid. Nicholas Cassidy Reunites with Band for World Tour. I looked away as if he could see me through the pages. Just seeing his picture threatened to throw me off my new path. I wanted to cry. But instead, I lifted my chin and waited my turn in line, refusing to look at the magazine again.

  That Friday, the last gift I ever received from Nicholas arrived. The deliveryman was the same one who always arrived. He looked nervous when I frowned at him.

  “Ma'am? I know this is the same drill every week, but I've been given strict instructions that I'm supposed to wait for your response after you open it.”

  I felt bad for the guy. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other while he waited for my answer.

  “Um, sure.” What else was I supposed to say?

  I took the small box from him.

  “You might want some privacy, ma'am. I'll wait down by my car.”

  I pushed the door closed and sat down on the couch. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew whatever was in that box was monumental. And judging by the shape, I was an idiot if I didn't know immediately what it was.

  The question was, why? We hadn't spoken in close to three months. Why continue the torture?

  I opened the velvet box and was stunned by the large diamond situated in the middle. It was a solitaire, very traditional and exactly what I would have picked out for myself...

  Out of curiosity, I took it out of the box and placed in on my finger, entertaining my whimsical dreams. It fit perfectly. The weight of it felt good. I never imagined even receiving a ring like this, and I knew regardless of my schoolgirl response to the size of the diamond, this was Nicholas's last desperate attempt to fulfill Emily's wish. Someone had to be the logical one here. And the fact that this came after no correspondence between us further solidified in my mind that this was desperation and not love.

  I saw the note folded in the top of the box. I took it out. The words blurred in my vision. I blinked, irritated with my runaway emotions, and read the beautiful words.

  Love is patient, love is kind.

  Love does not envy;

  Is not boastful; is not conceited;

  Does not act improperly; is not selfish;

  Is not provoked; does not keep a record of wrongs;

  Finds no joy in unrighteousness,

  But rejoices in the truth;

  Bears all things believes all things,

  Hopes all things, endures all things.

  Love Never Ends.

  After the scripture, it read:

  You told me once that actions speak louder than words.

  After reading this, I know why.

  ~Nicholas

  I ignored the tears and the fact my heart yearned to be with him in this capacity for the rest of my life. I had to be the one to make sense of this convoluted mess we were in. And so far, there was little that did make sense, save Emily’s request.

  Slowly, I stood and took a pen from my purse. With trembling fingers I wrote, I'm sorry, and re-folded the piece of paper. I removed the ring from my finger and placed it all back inside the box.

  I saw the deliveryman still waited by his car and I walked down. I handed it back to him and said, “Thank you for waiting.”

  Heedless of the tears running down my face, I turned and walked away, feeling strangely numb.

  ***

  When I got home from work the next day, I couldn't get Jessica off my mind. I had my boss call to inquire about her periodically. I was glad to hear that she was doing well. But I suddenly had the urge to see her, to talk to her.

  I ate a quick dinner and drove out to the rehab clinic where Jessica stayed. After checking in at the front desk, they went to get her. I was a little shocked she agreed to see me, but I was glad.

  The nurse led me to her. As we approached, I almost told him that he had the wrong Jessica. This person had long, shiny hair. There was meat on her bones. Her eyes, as they rose to meet mine, were a clear blue. No hint of drugs or alcohol in her system.

  “Sophie,” she said, smiling and standing to greet me.

  I hesitated. Even her voice was different, less scratchy. I know I stood there for a while staring at her. The similarities in her appearance began and ended with the cigarette in her hand. I glanced at it.

  “Hey, cut me some slack. I had to hang on to something.”

  My lips quirked at her humor. I just couldn't believe the Jessica I knew when Emily was sick and this one were the same person. “You look so different,” I said, my awe overriding my common sense.

  “Is that a good or a bad thing?” she grinned, a note of sarcasm in her tone.

  “It's wonderful!” I smiled back for the first time, allowing myself to absorb her new appearance and new attitude.

  Leaning in, I embraced her. I was as shocked as she was at the sudden wave of emotion that came over me. If only Emily could see her now.

  “Jessica,” I whispered, pulling back and looking at her again. “I just can't believe it!”

  She laughed again, a tinkling, giddy sound that was contagious. I joined her and we sat down at the table, wiping away our tears.

  “So why are you here, Sophie?” she asked after awhile after we exchanged pleasantries.

  “I wanted to check on you.” I fiddled with a coaster on the table, flipping it between my fingers.

  “That's sweet of you, considering how bad I treated you when I used...Now tell me the real reason.”

  I eyed her, ignoring the last part. “Emily would be proud of you right now.”

  Jessica looked past me and then down at the table. “Grief is a powerful thing. When I came out of the withdrawals, I didn't think I'd ever be the same. I missed the only time I had left with her because I didn't know how to deal with it.”

  I took her hand and squeezed then released her. “You gave her a happy ending, Jessica. That's all that mattered the day she died.”

  She swallowed hard, trying hard to hold on to her emotions. “I still have a long way to go. I have a long way before I can let go of that guilt.”

  “You'll get there,” I assured her. “If you've come this far, you'll go all the way. I don't doubt that for a second.”

  She smiled wanly at me. “I doubt myself a lot, but I believe that, too. I have to. I want to get my life back. Get a job, do something meaningful.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean do something meaningful?”

  “Meet someone, get married. Do something good with my life.”

  I nodded, pleased. “That's a great goal.”

  Our conversation lulled, but I sensed she was trying to figure out how to say something. “Nicholas told me you had a daughter,” she said quietly.

  I nodded once.

  “I'm sorry that I accused you of not knowing what it was like to lose a child.”

  I tried not to let my surprise show that she remembered that conversation. I held my hands up. “I think we're way past the apologies, Jessica.”

  “I don't. You treated Emily like she was yours. In a way, it comforted me, but it also gave me an excuse to continue avoiding her. Regardless, I appreciate all you did for her, more than ever, now that I know the truth.”

  “When did Nicholas tell you?” Curiosity got the best of me.

  “When I asked him if he knew what Emily meant when she said she would take care of Victoria for you.”

  Hearing her name still hurt me, but the pain was easing. Emily had helped me. Knowing she and Victoria were surely together lessoned the pain.

  “I have something for you,” I said, taking the gift out of my purse. “When you asked me to go through Emi
ly's things, I took something of hers that I think you should have.”

  Jessica frowned. “What is it?”

  I handed her the pillow with the embroidered bird on the front. “This helped her feel better when she was sick. It helped me, too, and now I think it’ll help you.”

  She was studying it with tear-filled eyes. “I made it for her when she first got sick. She used to love to pretend she was a bird when she was on the park swings.”

  I closed my eyes, unable to look at her, remembering the memories all too well.

  “You look almost as bad as he does, Sophie,” Jessica said.

  I opened my eyes and focused on her. “Huh?”

  She grinned knowingly. “Nicholas. Both of you are obviously miserable without each other.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because he comes to see me once a week.”

  I had a hard time wrapping my brain around that. Nicholas came to see Jessica once a week, yet more proof that he wasn't as invested in this as I was. Or was that when he took the time to send the gifts? I shook my head.

  But was I being fair? I rejected all of his carefully thought out gifts. I said no to his proposal. Didn't that just mean he was honoring my wishes by staying away?

  “I heard he went back to his band.”

  Jessica shook her head. “Yeah, he got into a heap of legal trouble for violating his contract and had to go back. The band is going back on tour but he says after that he's out.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  Jessica sensed it apparently. “I believe him this time, Sophie. He's different. I don't know what happened during that snowstorm between you two, but he's changed. Or maybe it was losing Emily that changed him, but he's not the same happy-go-lucky rock star I met years ago. He's acting like a man in love,” she said. I looked at her and she grinned.

  “Why didn't you tell him Emily died?” The ache in my chest over depriving her daughter of seeing her father one last time resurfaced.

  “I knew he came with reporters. I was afraid of what people would say about me.”