Like the stars we burn forever.
So listen when I say to you,
‘I’ll be there, you’re not alone.’
When the sun turns into shadows,
When you call and no one’s there.
When the lights go out inside you,
I’ll be there, you’re not alone.”
“When the World Breaks Your Heart” by The Goo Goo Dolls
THE LOSS OF my reverie is marked by the conductor’s gentle nudge on my shoulder. “End of the line, Miss. Boy, I wish I could sleep as deeply as that!” he chides as he watches me rub my eyes and glance at the empty seats around me.
“Sorry, I must have really been tired from working late last night,” I make the excuse as I gather up my things. The guy sitting next to me must have thought I was a basketcase - crying, laughing, constantly moving in my seat. I stand up, embarrassed and resolved to find another car to sit in tomorrow. I take a taxicab to the marina for my planned morning run, pulling out my phone from my purse as the driver careens through the dizzying lines of traffic and pedestrians on Wacker Drive. I see a few missed calls from Lucas and finally a text message:
Lucas: It has been a while without hearing from you. What is going on? Please answer your phone.
I’m about to relapse from all this. Same old routine. He texts, I don’t answer. I miss him so I give in and text back days later. Every time this happens, the counter is reset to zero and I start the cycle of breaking this addiction all over again. I’ve prayed for so long for the strength to move on from this and yet, here I am staring at my phone and interpreting every single word he has written to me. I delete his texts, I delete his number. And then it pops back up on my phone and I reset him up as a contact. It’s a habit I can’t seem to give up. Yet.
I run my normal loop towards the Shedd Aquarium, enjoying the crisp spring air. My head is finally clearing up from this morning’s daydream. The past is the past, and I must face the future ahead of me. It’s a future alone, without a specific purpose, but a future all the same. I make good enough time this morning to take a leisurely detour to enjoy the newly renovated river walk. There are boats on the water, gliding across its ripple-less surface as if sliding on smooth, solid ice. I stop to watch some university students calling out instructions as they guide their scull around the larger boats.
“Jade.” I hear that familiar voice and immediately know who it is. I turn around to find his gentle eyes fixed on me.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” I am genuinely surprised. It’s been a while since I last saw him. I pulled away from my old life in the nine months after being hurled into the eye of the never ceasing storm.
“I figured you’d be out for your morning run. I stayed after my two day convention to try to find you.” He steps in to embrace me and I let him. “How have you been, Jade?”
“I’m good, thank you. I’m sorry I disappeared for a while. I figured I needed some time on my own to try to get better.”
He gives me his knowing look as he steps back from me. “A lot has happened to you since we last saw each other, huh?”
I nod my head, not really knowing what else to say.
Quietly, he takes my hand and leads me down the path while we walk in silence. “You look great.”
“Yeah, right.” I remove my running cap and attempt to smooth my hair down. “Sweaty and all, huh?” I chuckle. The truth is that he’s the one who looks amazing. The women walking past us do a double take as their eyes catch a glimpse of his good looks and rugged appearance.
“Jae, I just have to ask you. It’s been eating me up for the past year after I saw you again at the service. I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel. I want you to know. I never stopped, Jae. I never stopped thinking about you. Do you ever wonder why I never married?” He retreats abruptly and turns to face me, zooming straight into my eyes. As if they held all the answers. He’s right. They’re all buried in there. And if I close them long enough, I can still disappear.
“It’s been so long, Chris. I don’t question anything anymore. Things are the way they are and I think I’m managing to stay afloat for now,” I answer bitterly.
He leads me by my elbow to a park bench directly facing the lake. We sit and watch the other runners pass us by. I freeze when a bird comes too close to us. Chris shoos it away and laughs. “I haven’t forgotten. How did we survive San Francisco?”
“We never went back to the Wharf after that seagull stole my churro.”
I’ll never forget that day. The bird was no less than mammoth-sized, and its giant, orange webbed feet covered my entire face as its long, sharp beak snatched the food directly from my mouth. Chris found me on the wooden bridge, shocked and in tears, knocked down by the force of the seagull’s wings. I haven’t been able to share my space with a bird since.
We both laugh. I don’t know why, but the old feelings come back and I’m not too pleased with him again. I’m resentful. But not at him. At myself. For never moving forward. I know that now as we sit on this old bench holding hands. I still love him. Not the way I did when I was younger, but this love never left me. It never gave Joshua a chance.
“Why are you here, Chris?”
“Because I want a second chance, Jae. I may not have amounted to much, but I never stopped loving you. But before anything else, I want to ask you something. Call me crazy. Tell me I’m wrong.” His blue eyes look darker than normal. He shifts his body sideways to face me, and pulls me closer to him. “Felicia.”
The mere mention of her name still rattles me. I lean back away from him for fear that the truth will be revealed by the look on my face. “Chris, please. It still hurts to talk about her.”
“Jae. Pictures of her at the funeral. Throughout the years we were apart. She has my eyes. She has my hair. I remember years ago, when she was 12 or 13, I saw you two walking out of your parents’ home and the way she looked, her movements—I remember thinking that I was looking into a mirror, that I was looking at myself.” His voice cracks as if it pains him to say it. And his eyes. They want to hurt me, slash me, punish me.
Ear infection. Water in my ears. That’s how I feel at this very juncture. Flashes of him and her bombard my thoughts and then they merge together as if they’re one. I can’t hear a word he’s saying. My heart beats so loudly that his voice starts to muffle; the only sound I can discern is the booming thump in my chest. I stand up to leave. “I can’t do this right now.” Quickly, I turn on my heels and run.
“Jade!”
I don’t even know why I attempt to do that. He catches up with me in three steps and roughly yanks my arm, twisting me around to face him. He grips me by the shoulders and gently touches my face with one hand. “Tell me.”
Anger takes over my guilt. He left me. He cheated on me. Why would he deserve her? I smack my hands on his chest. This time, he loses his footing.
“No! Chris! She’s mine, no one else’s. Don’t take her away from me. She was all I ever had and I’m not giving her up to anyone else!” I screech, loud enough for people walking along the path to look our way. I break away again and run. I run as fast as I can, knowing that I’m going to be at a dead end soon. He runs right behind me, knowing this too. It’s a route I know too well. It ends at the stone structure protecting the walls of the city aquarium.
It all concludes here. Now.
I halt when I literally hit the wall. I don’t turn around because I know he’s right behind me. I feel his breath on my neck; we’re both panting and gasping for air. Maybe it’s time for me to share this secret. He deserves to know. I spin around slowly to face him. Gradually and deliberately, I say the words out loud: “Yes. She was yours too. She was our daughter.”
Any devastation wreaks havoc in its wake. There is pain and sorrow and a loss that can never be replaced. I left my heart with him and in its place I took his child. We have nothing to show for it now. In its place is a gash so deep that neither of us can ever hope to forget. Nothing in this lifetime will bring comfort to t
his affliction. Nothing in this world will make it disappear.
The wail that bursts from his lips as he drops down to his knees and sobs uncontrollably is a sound I will never forget. He bows his head down and covers it with his hands. Impulsively, I kneel down to touch him, but he recoils when I try to enclose him in my arms.
The waves never cease crashing against the breakwall, marking the ebb and flow of the tide. It reminds me that life doesn’t stop despite the blows, the pain, or the setbacks. You can allow the pain to wash you away or you can hold on for dear life and pick up the pieces of the broken shards left lying on the ground after the storm subsides. A work of art, though horribly disfigured, is still a thing of beauty. Such is the task that’s been placed right in front of us.
Live or exist. The choice has always been mine.
TWO DAYS PASS after my meeting with Chris. I don’t take calls from anybody. Not him, not Lucas. Contrary to the past few months, I no longer sit and watch my phone. I fill my days with work, making sure that I schedule back to back meetings and immerse myself in the millions of projects I’ve started. I read books like there was no tomorrow. I force myself not to get lost in my thoughts. I live here and now. I don’t think of the past, I don’t hope for the future. For some reason, I feel relieved. I no longer feel as alone I have for the past twenty years. Sharing this secret with Chris makes me feel lighter, less burdened.
This afternoon, I’m lost in silent reflection while I sit in the front pew of my church, waiting to speak to someone I’ve been avoiding for a few months. He approaches me slowly, a warm smile on his face. The silver in his hair and the speed of his gait are a direct contradiction to his booming voice and magnetic personality. He has been my friend for as long as I can remember.
“Good morning, Jade,” he says lightheartedly. “How have you been?” He genuflects slowly before rising up to take a seat right next to me.
“Hi, Father Mike. How are you? Sorry I haven’t called in a while. Busy with work and all.”
“I understand. I’ve been thinking and praying for you. How are things? You still look a little gaunt and tired.” He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.
I nod my head, accepting the fact that I’m still a work in progress. “Father, I thought I’d stop by to make sure that everything is set for Felicia’s mass. I know that you moved your schedule around to accommodate it and wanted to thank you personally for that.”
“Jade, you know I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Everything is set. I saw the mass schedule and the ladies at the church will touch base with Noelle for some pictures and whatever it is you want to place at the altar.”
“Thank you. I’ll let her know to expect the call.”
He casts his eyes on the ground before squinting up at me. “She was like a daughter to me. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about her. Is today a good day for that?”
It’s been two years since she left me. I think it’s time to hear what he has to say. “Today’s as good as any. What’s wrong?” I take a deep breath. This doesn’t sound good, but I need to be ready.
“She always knew, Jade. She would talk to me about it. She would always ask me about her father. And as she got older, she would tell me how much she appreciated your honesty about Joshua and Chris.” There’s no one in the church but us. He doesn’t need to whisper. His tone is sure and articulate, inflecting at some points together with a squeeze of my hand.
“It was important for me that she knew where she came from. I wanted her to know that she was a product of pure love.”
“Because she knew that you had none of that for Joshua.” Somehow we’ve never really said this out loud. He doesn’t look sad or uncomfortable. It’s like pointing out a fact of life that’s no surprise at all.
“Yes. The day that she—” I stop to swallow my tears. “The day she died, she told me how she felt about it.”
He takes hold of my other hand before he continues. Protectively, he holds them steady, as if preserving me from a fall. “She told me that it hurt her to see you try so hard. Those eyes of yours couldn’t fool anyone, not even your daughter. She asked me to pray that you find your happiness one day. She loved you so much.”
“I loved her more than my life.” I choke on my words and start to cry. I cry because I feel her love enveloping my heart and I can’t reciprocate it now that she’s gone.
“She knew that. She left us with so much love and security in her heart. She lived a happy, protected, and stable life, Jade. She used to tell me how lucky she felt when compared to all her other friends, how loved she was. How you and Joshua had given up your realities to focus on raising her properly.”
“Sounds so much like Cia. I don’t know where all that insight came from. She was always so intuitive, so mature.”
“I wonder whom she took after?” he teases, the lines in his venerable eyes lightening up, making him look as young as ever to me.
“Thank you for letting me know, Father,” I say, feeling safe and secure in his presence. He keeps his hold on my hands, shaking it back and forth as he stresses a point.
“You did a good job with her, Jade. She was a light to many lives.”
We spend the next few minutes sitting silently. No words, just memories. I retrace my steps in my head and unwittingly play with my hands.
He consciously pulls me out of my trance, letting go of my hands and leaning back in relaxation. “What else is going on? Have you heard from the Tribunal yet?”
“I received an update letter telling me that it should be final by the end of September this year.”
“Yes, that’s more or less how long it should take. How are you feeling about it?”
“You were right. Getting an annulment is the first step. I don’t know what the next one should be, but I really want Joshua to have his chance at finding real love,” I say, waving my hand in the air emphatically.
“And you? What about your chance?” he asks.
“I told him, Father. About Felicia.”
“You told who what about Felicia?”
“Chris. He confronted me a few days ago. Said he knew from the moment he saw her pictures at the funeral service.”
“A father will always know, Jade,” he replies, his voice soft but matter of fact. “I’m not surprised. How did he take it?”
“It broke him. At first, seeing him suffer in front of me made me feel vindicated. But then I realized that that’s not what I want for him. I want him to make peace with it.”
“And you have to help him get that peace. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you need to reach out to him and help him with his pain. Healing him will heal you too.”
“I know, Father. You’re right.”
“What about Lucas? What’s going on with him? Did you tell him about Felicia?”
“No. Not yet.” I laugh wickedly at the statement. “He’s only 14 years older than her. Closer to her age than mine.”
“Jade.” He shakes his head at me. He doesn’t find me funny, this friend of mine.
“Sorry.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“I thought I was. Yes. Until Chris two days ago.”
“You saved Joshua with what you thought was your love. Don’t do this again with Chris. You can’t fix everyone. You need to be selfish enough to want to fix yourself. If Lucas is your heart, give in to it. You don’t have to force Chris’ love on you, or your love on him, just because you want to help him to know your daughter.”
I take his hand in mine and move close enough for him to drape his arm around my shoulder. I lean on his chest, feeling the soft cloth of his robes on my cheeks.
“I love you, Father Mike.”
“I love you too, Jade. God loves you more than you will ever know. Accept his love. Know that His peace will come to you soon. You are a remarkable woman and you deserve to be loved.”
“HI, CONCHA! IS Mama here?” I hug her tightly as I walk into my parents’ home. Danilo the chauffer has taken m
y bags from the car and handed them to her. I don’t really wait to hear her answer, I proceed towards my parents’ bedroom to find my mother in the dressing room.
“Hi, Mama!”
“Jade!” She turns around to enfold me in her arms. “I’m so happy to see you! Daddy will be home in a couple of hours. Are you here to meet with him? He’s out golfing with the Mercers.”
I don’t answer her question, but walk around the living area connected to their bedroom, familiarizing myself with the new renovations that were done a few months ago. A warm feeling of contentment takes me by surprise as I fix my eyes on a life-sized painting of Felicia on the hallway wall leading to the other bedrooms. My mother’s dressing table is filled with pictures of her; suddenly, I am filled with deep love and admiration for the way that she weathered through our loss in a manner more dignified than mine. I know it wasn’t easier for her, but someone had to stay strong. She did it for me.
I feel ashamed and selfish to have these thoughts at all. Everywhere I turn there are freshly cut flowers in vases and in pots, in and around her bedroom. I feel claustrophobic, suffocated; the feelings of that day still surface so easily. Another panic attack washes over me, only to be soothed by the sound of her voice.
“Hija? Come sit down with me for a while. Have you had lunch? Let me ask Concha to bring us some cold cuts.” Slowly, she goes from table to table, removing the flower vases and placing them on the floor outside of her bedroom door. She clears the room in minutes.
“Remove the traces of her trauma and give her time to accept them again,” the therapist advised my parents.
“Thank you for doing that,” I say as I lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
We sit next to each other on the couch, face to face, my hand in hers. She knows why I’m here.
“Chris came to see me last week,” she starts out.
“What? He did? Why?”
“He wanted to know about Cia.”
“It was time to tell him, Mama.”
Insipid Page 14
