“Oh my God. What?” She laughed. “Oops. I don’t mean to make light of it. I just think it’s so out of character for you to say something like that.” She teasingly struck me on the arm as I pretended to be offended.
“I said that about Isabel,” I reminded her shamefacedly, embarrassed by that period in my life. With Jade, any thought of controlling her or hurting her for sex had never crossed my mind. It was certainly another reason to believe in what I had just confessed. Maybe this really was the real thing.
“Yeah, but I didn’t believe you. You should see your face now. For some reason, I can tell you really mean it.”
“Yeah, sure, because you’re the expert,” I teased. I began to enjoy our lighthearted conversation. It was a far cry from the drama that we had in our past.
She grew quiet and pensive and her eyes started to look like she was about to cry. “You never looked that way with me.”
“Oh shit. Here I go again.” I pulled her close to me and held her in my arms. “I’m sorry, Tins. I really am. For everything.”
We stood together for a minute or so before pulling back to see a new group of tourists trying desperately to look over our shoulders. I took her hand and started to walk towards the exit. “I think we’ve been here long enough,” I said as we made our way back down to ground level. Gone was the awkwardness between us that normally occurred as we stood together, engaged in our own thoughts.
She traipsed in front of me as soon as we found ourselves back by the entrance full of people. “David is waiting for me by the park benches,” she said. “Take care, Luke. And I wish you the best.” She stepped in to give me a quick kiss. “By the way, I like this new you. Don’t lose it. Show her this side of the mystery.”
I smiled back, relieved that at long last, she had given me her pardon.
TWO WEEKS HAVE passed since we arrived from Hawaii. In the most wonderful sense, the man who came home with me is the Chris I knew from a long time ago. He is tranquil and harmonious, he has a goal and a purpose. His mood has also greatly influenced the way I’ve been feeling since my meeting with Marissa ten days ago. I manage to cast my worries aside and concentrate on preparing for our move to the island. I notice that he has stopped taking his anxiety medication and I take it as a great sign that he is finally healing. No one deserves it more than he does. The beauty of his heart and his soul makes me wonder why it took so long for him to finally find the joy that he so merits. No one has helped more than he has during the most harrowing time of my life. He deserves all the happiness I can offer him.
Two days before the movers are scheduled to pack our things for shipment, I find Chris sitting in the dark surrounded by boxes of all sizes. His eyes are closed, his head is leaned back against a large TV carton, and his face looks like he’s been crying.
“Chris?” I whisper as I walk closer towards him. I kneel down on the floor and take his hands in mine. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“I’ve been waiting here for you for a while. Where’ve you been?” he asks, his tone somewhat agitated.
“I was at the Pacific Heights house with the realtor. She has a firm offer, so I thought I’d go and check on her staging. What happened?”
“We have to talk. I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do what?” I ask, totally confused.
“Take you away from all this. From your home. Your parents. From Cia.” He bangs his fists against the wood floor repeatedly until I hold them together for fear of breaking his knuckles.
“Baby, did you miss your medication today? Let me go and get it; it’ll calm you down again.”
“I can’t, Jae. I can’t do this anymore. I know what happened.”
“What happened? Where?”
“With Lucas. I know that he was here the night of our party.”
My heart rises to my throat. I feel like I’m about to pass out. “Chris, please. Let me explain.”
“I followed you. I saw him enter the bath—” He chokes on his words. As I reach out to touch him, he lifts his hands up to stop me. “Stop. Let me finish!”
I move back; from instinct, my body quakes at the unspeakable fear of reliving the memory of what happened almost a year and a half ago. And then I remember that I’m with Chris, my kind and gentle soul. I’m anything but afraid of him.
He starts to sob as he struggles to wring out his words. “I was too much of a coward to confront you about it because I knew you would leave me. And I decided at that time that I would rather have you with me despite your indiscretion.”
“Chris, please,” I beg. “It was nothing. It meant nothing. I was so caught up in the flattery of it all. It’s not love. He doesn’t have my heart. You do. We have a daughter together. It just makes sense that we’re made to be with each other.”
“Jade, don’t sell your happiness short,” he says curtly, a fresh round of tears spilling down his cheeks. “I see you crying at night. I watch you leave me when you think I’m asleep. You’ve started smoking again. You’re losing weight.” He sighs. “I love you so much that I can hear every word your heart speaks. You say his name while we’re making love. Not with your lips, but with the distant look in your eyes. It’s almost as if you’re wishing it was him instead of me.”
“Oh my God. No, Chris! I’m so sorry. Please, we can work this out. It’s all in my head. I’m just so messed up from everything that has happened. But this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I want to have your baby. I want us to be the way we planned to be, twenty years ago!”
“Oh, Jae,” he cries, “those days are long gone. I love you. But maybe that love is no longer enough. Or maybe it’s no longer the love that you need. Years have passed between us. We’ve grown to be different people. I want you to be happy. Your happiness is most important to me.” I crave for his touch, his closeness, his warmth. He shares none of that with me as we stand facing each other.
“Chris—”
“Can you honestly tell me that you don’t have feelings for him?” he asks bluntly. “If you give me your word that you don’t, I’ll forgive everything and we’ll move away.”
I don’t answer his question. Instead, I break down in a shameless sob. I’m shaking from the truth of what I’m about to disclose.
My reason for staying.
“I’m afraid, Chris. I’m afraid that if I let you go, it will mean that I’m letting her go.”
His eyes are wet with tears. He tries to stop himself from blinking, but one flash of his cloudy blue eyes has his tears pouring down his face to match my own. “Sometimes, I get so angry at you, I can’t stand to be near you. You made me believe in a lie. You were dishonest about your feelings for me. You robbed me of the chance to get to know my child and allowed another man to raise her. But most times, Jae, I’m consumed with overwhelming love for you. You’re my first love, the only woman I’ve ever wanted. I see Cia in you, just like you see her in me. That connection with her, though, is hindering our healing. I know you understand what I mean.”
“I do,” I say, looking into his eyes. I’m going to miss them, his eyes. My only light in all this darkness. I’m going to let him go. Maybe for now. Maybe for forever. In trying to repair him, I’ve damaged him even more. “Fix me. Why can’t you fix me?” I plead, tugging desperately at both his hands and bringing them to my face.
He affectionately caresses my cheeks, but the look on his face shatters me. It’s a look of surrender. Of defeat. “You need something new,” he says softly. “Something outside of your past to unbreak you. I’m your damage. I’m part of your scars. There is a mutilated part of you that won’t ever be the same. And no matter how hard I try, your heart is craving to start over. We have to accept that now.”
“I tried so hard to stay the same, to be the same person that you know, that you loved. But I’ve changed and I don’t know how to go back. Nothing in the world can revive it. My heart is dead,” I concede, still in tears, but with surprising belief in the words I’ve just spoken out loud.
He breaks away and slumps on the ground. My heart breaks at the keening sound he makes as he continues to cry. “He fills you. He can restore you, put you back together. He can. Not me.”
“No! Try harder, Chris. Try harder. Fight for me!” I demand as I shake him by his shoulders.
His head sways back and forth like a rag doll. His energy, his belligerence, his spunk—they’re all gone. I’ve killed him. I am poison.
I swipe my eyes roughly with the back of my hands, desperate to convince myself to force the words out of my mouth. “You’ll die too, if you stay with me. I have to let you go.”
“Well then, I think I know what we need to do,” he says calmly and with unexpected conviction. “Jae, letting each other go means holding on to Cia. It means finding our happiness in memory of her. This is what she would have wanted for us.”
I’M STANDING BY the priority line at SFO International one week later, gripping his hand as we wait for him to board his flight. Since our talk, I’ve done nothing but cry and bemoan the lie that I’ve lived. I spent the next few days begging him for forgiveness. He tells me that he holds no bitterness in his heart. I’d like to think that it’s because he too, knows that true love is out there somewhere, waiting for the chance to find him. He has the job of his dreams in a place that people would kill to live in. I know I have to let him go. The love of my life deserves so much more than my misery.
As soon as the final boarding call is announced, I stand up and pull him close to me, burying my head in his chest, refusing to let him go. “Don’t go. Please,” I implore him.
“Don’t cry, Jae. This is for the best. And you’ll come to visit once I’m settled.”
“I know,” I agree, “but I’ll miss you. You’re my best friend. What we had was the greatest love of my life and you gave me the best gift anyone can ever have. I love you, Chris.”
“I love you, Jade Albin. I’ve never loved anyone but you. We had a great run. Think about it as the right time to quit while we’re ahead.” He tries his best to sound chipper, but the look in his eyes tells me that he’s suffering just as much as I am. “I’ll be back for Thanksgiving break. And maybe you can come back with me for a visit.”
“I would love that.” I squeeze my arms around him with all my might, closing my eyes and trying my hardest to memorize his face for the last time. By the time our lips meet, we are lost in the frenzy of our sobs. “Please, please,” I wail into his chest. “I don’t think I can do this. Please don’t leave me alone.” My knees give way as he holds me up by my elbows and slowly walks me back to sit down by the waiting area.
“You’re not alone. You will always have me in your life. In time, we’ll look back on this and know that we made the right decision.” He kisses me on the forehead and reluctantly turns his back on me. Slowly, I release his hand one inch at a time until the tips of our fingers barely touch and there is nothing but air between us. He faces me one last time, his eyes filled with tears as he places his hand on his heart and tips his shoulders forward in a reverent bow. I bring my fingers to my lips before bringing them down to my heart.
I don’t move. I stay rooted in place until the plane pushes back and taxis forward to take him away from the pain of his past.
His past.
That’s all I am. That’s all I can ever be.
A wise old man once told me that goodbyes are a part of living. You bid farewell to something every single day of your life. Sometimes, it’s to something superficial or material, like a favorite pair of shoes or a dried out old pen that has seen better days. Other times it’s to something more meaningful like a best friend who moves away or a loving and faithful pet whose time has merely run out. And then there are those goodbyes that you never thought you would ever have to make. The ones that make you fall, make you cry, make you die.
The loss of innocence, the loss of love. Chris. Cia.
Neither time nor space will ever heal the emptiness that they leave behind.
But before every parting is a greeting. A “Hi,” “Hello,” “It’s so nice to meet you.” Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything, it’s fleeting and ordinary and routine, like the people you pass on a two way street, or the person who sits next to you on the bus. No matter the manner however, it signifies the start of something exciting, fresh and unfamiliar. If you truly stop dwelling on the goodbyes of your life, you will recognize that special “Hello.”
It comes in any form, on any day, at any time. And when it does, you will want to risk it all despite that impending departure.
Mine came in the form of a firm handshake, a lopsided smile, and deep, dark, angry brown eyes.
“YES, YOU HEARD right. I’m in Spain. No, I just landed and am about to hop in a cab to find that doggone place.”
I’m on the phone with Chris, checking in like I’ve become accustomed to in the month that he’s been gone. He sounds happy and settled in his new life, loving his job and excited about exploring his new environment. He moved into a majestic home in Kahala, right by the ocean. The pictures he sent me boast of a sprawling 5,000 square foot home in a private beach front estate. It’s a rental for now; I think he’s finally coming to terms with the nomadic lifestyle that accompanies the career of his choice. I miss everything about him—his love, his protection, his face, his smell, his touch. I miss seeing my daughter in his eyes.
But I don’t miss the guilt that I harbored while we were together.
Two weeks after Chris left, Marissa called to see how everything was going. I didn’t tell her about Chris because I didn’t think that we were over. She was closing up the San Francisco apartment and thought I should know where her brother had gone. “His friends were worried about him sitting around San Francisco waiting for nothing,” she explained. “With all that temptation around him, they thought it would do him good to travel to Spain for some downtime away from everything.”
So here I am, in a taxicab, riding through the winding coastal roads of Port De Soller, a city nestled between valleys surrounded by a bay that opens up into the great wide ocean, on my way to see him. Lately, I’ve become the Queen of Impulse, but this has to top everything I’ve done in the past few months. I figure that seeing him one more time will surely bring resolution to the mess I’ve created. Something that I desperately need, as I attempt to tie up all the loose threads that have recently come undone.
The driver takes me up a steep hill to a white, cube-shaped house replete with a style that reflects an understated sense of contemporary Spanish architecture. The white cement walls are offset by tall windows with wooden shutters. A rooftop terrace with an infinity pool can be seen from miles away, and the sound of splashing water and children’s voices surprises me. He’s not alone, I conclude to myself, as I see three identical Porsche 911s parked side by side on the driveway.
I knock lightly on the glass door, hoping that no one hears me, wishing that I could use it as an excuse to turn around and walk away. Someone comes forward merely two seconds after I lift my fingers off the knocker. It’s a little person. An adorable brown-haired girl in a pink tutu and white ballet slippers, wide-eyed and excited about having answered the door all by herself.
“Hi,” I say as I kneel down and offer my hand out to her outstretched fingers. “I’m Jade. I’m looking for—”
“Are you Miss Universe? You sure look like her.” Her little voice brings me back to the past once again.
“Maddy, who is it?” a woman’s voice calls out from the hallway.
“Mommy, she’s so pretty. I think it’s Miss Universe!”
I stand up as a carbon copy of the little girl appears behind her. Bright, light brown doe eyes and flawless facial features—talk about Miss Universe. The mother gives her daughter an indulgent smile, then looks up in welcome.
I laugh uncomfortably as I hear another set of shuffling feet. This time, it’s a light-haired man with a cane in one hand and a chubby baby boy hooked under his arm. They make a striking couple. She takes the bab
y from him as he so naturally encircles his free arm around her shoulders and pulls her close.
“Hi,” he whispers tenderly in her ear.
“Hi,” she answers, lightly brushing her lips against his.
I want that kind of quiet love.
We all stay mum for a brief second until I nervously break the silence.
“I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong house. I’m looking for Lucas Martinez; this is the address that was given to me.”
“You are?” the woman asks, turning her head towards the man standing next to her.
“My name is Jade. I’m a friend of his.”
“You’re at the right place. I’m Isabel and this is my husband, Alex. These two little people are our children, Maddy and Jack.” She leans over to give me a kiss on each cheek. Alex does the same, while the sweet little boy giggles and kicks his feet in the air.
This is the woman who left him for her husband. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I reply, filled with awe at the love that’s clearly radiating from this extraordinary family. Such genuinely happy people; I can’t help but notice how they smile with their eyes.
And then, a familiar voice.
“Jade Richmond.”
I can see Leigh Taylor standing a few feet away from the door. He holds hands with a dark-haired beauty wearing a pretty white summer dress.
“Oh, hi, Leigh. My gosh. I’m so sorry to intrude on your family vacation. I didn’t even think to ask Marissa whether or not he was living alone.” I fish into my purse and pull out my card and a pen, scribbling rapidly with the aim of leaving as quickly as I can. I’m short of breath and fighting the urge to shed more tears. Once again, I don’t find him. “I’m staying at this hotel, if you would please just ask Lucas to call me when he can.”
Alex slowly walks away, leaning heavily on his cane as his left leg drags behind his right. I notice Isabel watching him lovingly until he is no longer within her view. She then takes my hand and leads me inside the home. The heavy wooden furniture provides a delightful contrast to the bright white interior of the house. There are no shades, and the large windows open up to the most spectacular panorama I have ever seen.
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