by Suzan Battah
Chris, too stunned, didn’t immediately respond. He was watching her close before he said in a calm voice, “I heard you. Just tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away. Say the words and it’ll be over and done.”
“I… I…” She couldn’t say it. She did love him. That would never change. She turned her head and remained silent. No matter how much she hurt him, he knew she loved him and that was what kept him strong.
Chris headed for the door, his back tense and in an oddly calm voice, he declared into the silence, “We’re not over.”
The electrifying intensity enveloped her through the core of her body, radiating in the atmosphere surrounding her. It got darker somehow, yet the space remained pumping hot, thick, and smothering.
She hated herself for being so weak.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It only took a few days for the media to pick up on their break-up. Julia refused to answer any calls from the media. They soon got tired of no response and stopped pestering her, instead making up their own story from apparent sources close to them.
Outside of work, she rarely saw him over the next week. He was never around. She was too embarrassed to ask Ben what was going on with him. She cared too much, even apart from him. He hadn’t called her, messaged or tried to see her since that night. She was too confused. How did their lives turn into such a hurtful mess? He believed she didn’t love him. Or he was waiting for her to say it to him before he would believe it. She was in pain, hurting so bad she couldn’t speak to anyone about it.
“What did he do?” Boric came right out and asked her while preparing dinner.
“It’s not your business,” Julia snapped, hating being the brunt of everyone’s curiosity.
“Boric, shut up, she doesn’t have to explain.” Randy shook the strainer full of freshly washed lettuce.
“Oh yes she does!” Boric waved his newly manicured nails in the air in a dramatic display. “He treated you like a queen, baby. You don’t know how lucky you are. He loves you from his soul, not many people find that in this life.”
Julia burst straight out. “You think I don’t know that! He did nothing wrong, it was me. I told him to go because of me. I screwed up, it was my fault. There’s someone else and he knows that. Carlos will always be there. That’s not good for a relationship.”
Randy gave Boric a warning look, but there was no stopping Boric when he wanted to say something. Julia could see the intensity in Boric’s eyes, he was serious, no joking around. He was angry.
“So you ended it, just like that. Why hold on to Carlos, honey? He can’t give you what Chris can.”
“What are you talking about, Boric.”
“Life! I’m talking about life. Lovers, soul-mates live for each other. Carlos may love you from the grave, but you dishonor him by not living. Say goodbye, make your peace with God, and move on with Chris. Second chances don’t come along a third time.”
After speaking his mind, Boric sashayed away, slamming the front door behind him. Julia wiped at the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks.
“I’m trying.”
Randy scattered the lettuce leaves onto the chopping board. “I know you are.”
***
Julia did everything in her power the next day to make sure she needed to get to the Augustine. She sent her office into complete chaos. But before she could manage to find a valid reason, an unexpected phone call interrupted her thoughts.
“Chris?”
“He’s gone, Julia. He’s gone.”
The sorrow in his voice tore at her heart. “Is it Dylan? What’s wrong, tell me?”
“My father passed away.”
“Chris, baby, I’m so sorry.” Her lips trembled as tears spilled down. She limped over to a chair, sitting down heavily. “Where are you, Chris, I’m coming to see you.”
“I’m at the airport, on my way to New York.”
“I’m so sorry, he’s at peace now. I’ll…”
She could hear the distress in his breathing. She tried to say something else, but he cut her off abruptly. “I just needed to tell you. I don’t expect anything from you. I’ve got to go.”
That Friday, Julia, supported by her brother Michael, flew to New York for the funeral of Ryan Augustine. They got lost on their way to the church, so were late for the beginning of the service. The church was so crowded. She had to take a seat at the back with Michael. It was a sad moment and Julia felt deeply for Chris’ loss. He looked truly shaken. She wanted to offer him comfort, as she understood the sorrow of grief all too deeply.
Later in the afternoon, a select number of family and friends were invited for a small gathering at the Augustine in Manhattan. Chris was nowhere in sight. Julia had desperately wanted to see him, but scanning the crowd of people, she had no luck. Then Ben spotted her and came over quickly.
“Julia,” he said, giving her a warm hug, his eyes red. “Thank you for coming. How is your knee?”
Julia held him close for a moment. “I’m okay, Ben… I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Ben ducked his head, his eyes softening as he thought of his father. “He was strong right up until the end.”
“I haven’t seen Chris. Is he around?”
With everyone wearing immaculate black, Julia thought Chris was immersed in the crowd. “He’s taken Dylan up for a rest. Go up, I’m sure he won’t mind. Regardless of what happened between you too, he needs you now. Please go see him.”
Julia felt a swish of relief as she headed up to Chris’ room. She held up her hand to knock on the door, stopped herself looking up at the ceiling and, taking a deep breath, she tapped on his door, hearing the low hum of the television inside. A few moments later, she could hear the approach of footsteps and the door opened wide. She gasped with the force of her emotion, taking a step back on her crutches.
Her heart went out to him. He looked tired, rumpled, and his eyes were bloodshot. His shirt was unbuttoned, half-hanging out of his pants. “Julia?” He sounded surprised. “You came.”
She glanced over his shoulder, noticing a glass half-full of liquor next to the decanter on the kitchen bar. “I just wanted to say… I’m so sorry for your loss. I know you’ve probably heard it a lot.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I… Chris, I’m sorry.”
Chris nodded and stepped back for her to enter the hotel room, waving her in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the penthouse in Miami, but it was large and comfortable. She turned to him as she passed through the door, but he had already headed for the kitchen, she shut the door behind her.
“You didn’t come alone, did you?”
She entered the hotel room a little slower. “No, my brother Michael came with me. He went back to our hotel. He sends his condolences.”
“Do you want a drink?” He offered, getting out another glass.
“Sure, I’ll have a drink. How’s Dylan? I heard he’s in your care now.”
“Yes. Danielle’s done a runner. She was cut out of my father’s will, not that she didn’t get a good portion of my father’s estate before the end. We haven’t heard from her since I gained custody. Anyway, I’ll have to sort out a nanny for Dylan when I get back to Miami.” He poured her a generous amount of the liquor and handed her the glass.
Chris pulled out a stool to sit, avoiding her gaze. The silence stretched but for the muted tones of the television. She sipped the drink, glad for the burning sensation running down her throat. She knew what it was like to lose someone close and wanted to break through to him.
“Is Dylan sleeping?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice distant. “I don’t know how to explain that his mother’s not coming back. It was hard enough telling him Dad died.”
Julia’s heart went out to him. He needed her. He looked so lost.
“Chris,” she said, pulling her arms out of the crutches. She hobbled closer to him, gripping onto the bench for support, feeling a sudden pain in her knee. “Look at me.”
He was refusing to co-operate, so she took matters into her own hands. She forced him to look at her, taking the glass from his hand, framing his face, she ran her thumb under his eyes.
“I’m here for you.” She pulled him into her embrace.
Finally, his arms closed around her and he accepted her comfort. She rubbed his back, running her hands through his hair, holding him close to her heart.
“Stay awhile,” he whispered.
She couldn’t refuse him. For the first time since she had known him, he really needed her and she wouldn’t leave him. After all they had been through, being there for each other mattered more than anything.
That night, they lay together on the foldout couch, watching an old movie. Dylan remained asleep in the room. The New York City lights flickered through the darkness, the moon shining a beam through the expansive room.
“I miss him, Jules. I know I’m a grown man, but I miss my father. His criticism, his praise, the way his eyes shone when he… when I had achieved something big… I miss him.” He choked back the emotions, covering his eyes with his forearm.
Julia curled up beside him, holding him close, offering him comfort. “It’s okay to hurt, to grieve your loss. He was a big part of who you are, Chris. But he was so proud of you. He told me so when I first met him.”
“But I didn’t get the chance to prove my success. He always had a way of making me yearn for his approval. I really looked up to him, he was my idol. I needed him to be proud of me. I think the only thing in my life he approved of was you and I screwed even that up.”
After several deep breaths, he sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his temples. Julia was mortified that she had never understood Chris’ struggles, or her part in them.
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. Your father loved you, so proud of you. Whenever they interviewed him, he talked about all his kids like you were his treasures.”
“Really?” He turned to her, desperate for confirmation.
Dylan cried out and Chris was quick to rush in to ease his distress from the unfamiliar surroundings. Ten minutes later, he came back out, lying heavily back onto the springy foldout.
After the interruption, they could not regain their previous closeness. They lay quietly next to each other, staring up at the ceiling. Chris put his arms behind his head. She shifted restlessly and a tiny groan escaped her. He turned to her with a questioning look on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She clucked her tongue in frustration, reaching down to tug at the knee brace that was causing her grief. Burning the thing would be the first on her agenda, once the doctor gave her the all-clear.
“It’s my knee. It hurts. I’m going to take the brace off.”
“I’ll help you,” he said, stopping her from getting up.
Gently leaning over her, he made quick work of the straps, releasing the pressure around her knee. Lifting her leg, he pulled the brace free and dropped it on the floor next to the couch. She sucked in a breath at the tender touch, then sat up, bracing herself on her elbows.
He was so close, gazing down at her. “How does that feel?”
“Good,” she whispered, breathless, lying back against the pillows, glad when he did the same. The heat of his touch had awakened her body from a long dream. She missed his touch. She licked her lips, the fluttering in her belly burning deep.
Chris took her hand between his, rolling to face her. She felt the anticipation as he shifted next to her. His eyes lowered to her lips. The air went up a notch with delicious heat and all it took was his hand touching her thigh for her to move her head slightly to the side to accept his kiss.
At first she pressed softly, savoring the taste of him, and then as his mouth opened, the tip of her tongue stroked his. The sound of his groan caught between their lips. She deepened the kiss as their desire took over, all rational thought gone.
But then there was a sudden noise outside, a group of people must be coming back from a late-night party and were making a lot of noise outside the room. Julia and Chris broke apart, panting breathlessly.
“What happened to us, Chris?”
“One of us was ready to love and the other one wasn’t.”
“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, fighting back the yearning desire in her blood.
“More than anything, but I won’t ask you. I can feel you pulling away,” he responded simply. “It’s better you go.”
Julia didn’t know what to do. She could see his grief so clear in his eyes and she didn’t want him to suffer alone. Yet she struggled with how to offer him the comfort he needed, so she left.
Chapter Twenty-Five
One of us was ready to be loved, and the other wasn’t. Chris’ words echoed in her mind when she got back to Miami. Julia didn’t like the feeling of guilt festering inside her. She knew there was only one person who shared the same experience with her. She needed Irene’s help.
It was raining in that tropical Miami way. The smell of fresh rain used to excite Carlos even though getting a cold could cause him serious harm. She didn’t know why that memory came back to her now, maybe it was because she was in front of his family home.
She paid the taxi driver. “Keep the change.”
Julia climbed out of the vehicle, grimacing when the umbrella wouldn’t open immediately. She was getting drenched as water pelted down. Steadying herself on her crutches, she gave up on the umbrella and moved toward the door of the house.
She fiddled with the pendant on her necklace, her heart beating in panicky rhythm. She pulled back her sodden hair, then rapped on the door, hoping Irene would be home. The door swung wide and she thought she might just faint for a second.
“Julia!” Irene stood back in the open door, surprised.
Julia had promised herself she wouldn’t cry. But her lips trembled, eyes stung painfully, and she bowed her head regretfully. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to him,” she confessed, helpless. “Please, Irene, show me.”
Irene’s eyes softened and her arms opened, allowing Julia to step into her embrace. The flow of tears shuddered inside Julia’s chest in full force.
“Oh, darling, Julia, sweetheart.” Irene guided her into the comfort of the house. “Carlos loved you! He would want you to move on. Let him go.”
“Tell me how. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose Chris. I’m scared that if I marry Chris, he’s going to leave me like Carlos did. At least when I married Carlos, I knew he was dying. Now if something happened to Chris… I don’t think I could bear it. I don’t think I could live without Chris. I wouldn’t survive it.”
Irene gently pried Julia’s fingers from her arm and forced her down into a seat. Then she disappeared for a few moments and returned with a full bottle of Kahlua Liquor and two small shot glasses. “It might help if you don’t hold your feelings in, darling. If you want to cry, cry.” Irene carefully poured the first shot and passed it over to Julia. “If you feel like screaming, scream. And if swearing helps, do it. And if you need a drink, take a drink. Now, I’m not promoting getting drunk all the time.”
She poured the second shot and held it up, while she continued to speak. “Carlos wouldn’t want us to turn into alcoholics… but it helps me every year to get a bit silly and remember my son. To Carlos!”
Irene downed the shot in one gulp. Julia followed suit, the creamy liquid burning hot down her throat. She coughed a little, and then once again burst into tears.
“It’s okay, darling. Let it out,” Irene encouraged, shaking her head, her eyes wide and also filling with tears. She poured them both another drink, and in unison, they threw it back, Julia spluttering again at the burn.
When she got her breath back, she admitted, “I was always so scared for Carlos. He lived so recklessly in his way. We always had fun.” Julia sat back reminiscing. “Today, he would have liked the rain. He loved to see how far he could go.”
Irene regarded her sagely. “You say that with a touch of guilt. Why?”
>
Julia declared helplessly, “I should have been stronger. He wasn’t well and he always wanted to go beyond his limitations. I should have stopped him.”
“But you didn’t, you loved him enough to allow him to enjoy his life. He was a grown man and he made his own choices. Julia, he knew you loved him. Now you are in love with another man, so you have to go and say goodbye.”
She knew that was exactly what she had to do. But in the meantime, she just felt like drinking a little bit more. And Irene was a good drinking companion. By the time Julia staggered off to the taxi, she had made a promise she knew she had to keep.
She knew it would be hard going to his grave and so she put it off. But when Boric offered to drive her, she accepted gratefully, unsure how she would react to the visit. She hadn’t been near the cemetery since the funeral two years ago. The memory of burying her husband was too painful to bear. So she stood by the grave, staying stiff as she wondered what she really wanted to say.
Boric respectfully stood back, allowing her the privacy she needed. He was wearing a somber black suit in line with the sad mood. But earlier he had confessed to Julia he was wearing bright pink underwear, making her burst into laughter.
Now the laughter was gone. She approached Carlos’ final resting place once again in a whirlwind of emotions. Her body twisted and cramped in physical discomfort.
The large marble headstone, engraved with gold writing stated her late husband’s full name, date of birth and death, and further down the inscription read: Will be greatly missed by his mother and beloved wife.
She read the inscription out loud a few times, feeling the meaning behind the words. All those times he had tried to prepare her for him leaving, she had ignored him, cutting him off to joke about some silly thing. She wished she had listened back then. Carlos had been her best friend more than a husband, so she had loved him in a special way.
“Carlos, you were my first love, my sweetheart. I loved you and will always miss you.” She wiped at the tears. She began to sob in earnest, making a terrible racket of noise. Crumpling to the soft grass, she gasped for breath, spluttering and coughing.
