“Winter, stop. You are not to blame for the accident, for Austin’s need to protect you or for his death.” Chandler pulled me into his arms once more, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Winter, how could you believe, hold on to this belief for all these years?”
“Just as you believe you are to blame for his death, because it was your family who was involved.”
Chandler held tighter for a moment. “But I had to let it go, Winter. And you have to let this go. Don’t let your fear take you away from your life. You know you love my brother, and you know he loves you.”
“Chandler, there is so much more than I can tell you but I cannot, and I will not allow someone to hurt Cayden over me. I would die first. I would let Dane kill me if it kept him from Cayden. I have even thought about going to see Dane, but other things have kept me from going.”
The only thing that stopped me was my need to protect the baby.
“Winter, you cannot think that way, you cannot….” Chandler let out a sigh then let me loose from his hold. “No seeing Dane,” he said, almost stern. I nodded my head in agreement. “Look at me, Winter.” I looked up at his face. “No.”
“I know,” I said.
“There is nothing I can say. There is nothing I can do to make you change your mind, is there? You won’t come back with me, will you?”
“No, Chandler, I can’t.”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. I can’t stay here, the press lurk. I would not be surprised if we don’t see ourselves in the morning paper with the headlines Chandler Cain and Winter Perri back together again. Your brother would probably kick your ass after seeing that.”
Chandler smiled faintly. “Over you, there is no doubt.” Chandler picked up my hand and kissed the top of it. “Winter, please take care of yourself and don’t do anything stupid, for my brothers sake. Promise me you will not go to find Dane.”
“I promise. I won’t go to find Dane.” I paused to wipe away some tears. “Chandler, will you promise me you will take care of Cayden and don’t let him do anything stupid either?”
“Sure, Winter. I promise.” Chandler leaned down and kissed my cheek. “You know, even though you are a giant pain in my ass, one of the most stubborn women I have ever met,” Chandler chuckled wickedly. “I do miss having you around. I guess you kind of grew on me.”
“Ditto,” I said, “only not the stubborn woman thing.” I tried to joke.
Chandler smiled. He wiped his hand over my cheek using his thumb to brush back some of my tears. “Will you promise me something?”
“What?” I asked.
“Just one more promise,” Chandler said. “Promise me, even if you don’t want to tell me where you are that once you move you will call or text me to let me know you are safe.”
I nodded my head. “I promise.”
“Maybe I will catch you later, snowflake?”
“Goodbye, Chandler.”
I stood in the middle of my lawn, listening to my neighbor’s wind chimes clang. The tears streamed down my face. Chandler opened his car door. He gave me one last glance over his shoulder, smiled his eye-crinkling smile then got in. I heard the roar of the engine as it came to life and watched Chandler Cain drive away.
Chapter Eighteen
Starting Over
I sauntered up the steps to my new home, key in hand. I stared at the bright blue door, the brass handled doorknocker and wondered at how I’d come to be here. Winter Perri did something she never imagined. She moved to London, England. It seemed to connect me in a way to my past dream of living here with my love. I was glad to see the press was less interested in me here than in the United States, only having one comment from the realtor.
“So, you are the author who was involved with those two handsome American chaps, right?”
I smiled. “Yes, I guess I am.”
As the weeks passed, the familiar nightmares that had returned began to fade, change. Instead of being trapped in a long hallway trying to reach the door, I would turn and walk away from the door. I did not need to reach it. I knew the life that went on behind that door and that life went on without me.
I watched as my belly became more pronounced and found the need to talk about Cayden so the baby could hear about its father. I explained the color of Cayden’s eyes, how the color would change and looking into them always made me feel extraordinary. I talked about the perfect line of his jaw, the shape of his lips, the angle of his high cheekbones. Then I read the baby some of Cayden’s favorite poetry, remembering the day he recited them to me.
I’d bought all of Cayden’s movies, placing them into the multi-disc DVD player where they stayed. I stood with my belly facing the speaker so the baby could hear Cayden’s voice. His voice was beautiful, memorizing. I would stand there and cry as Cayden’s silky voice filled the room and encased me within the warm velvet folds.
It was May eighteenth, Cayden’s twenty-fourth birthday when I sat down at the computer and did an internet search for him. I wanted to check on him without really checking on him. I typed his name into the Google search engine and as usual hundreds of internet pages popped up. I hit the news and gossip section then found my face turn into a smile with the news Cheryl Lynn and Cayden were an item once again. They were having a long distance relationship since filming in New York had been completed and were rumored to be looking for a home to buy together. Cayden, however, was working on his next film on location in Vancouver. While it might be a strange reaction, smiling at such news, it was exactly what I needed to read. They had left me out of Cayden’s life and moved on. This news was good. I was a faint echo so the press would not haunt him over me.
My fingers held onto the mouse in contemplation. In a moment of weakness, I moved it and found myself clicking on the photo links. There before my eyes, I stared in open-mouthed awe at Cayden’s flawless photos, with fresh tears streaming down my face. He was as usual perfect, beautiful to an excruciating degree. As in real life, his eyes penetrated me to my very soul while I gazed at them through the shimmer of the computer screen.
I heard a small rapping at my door, so I closed out the tab to the internet page, wiped my tears and went to answer the door….
“Hi, Philomena, how are you this morning?” I asked.
“Oh just wonderful sweet,” she replied. “Ackerly made tea. He sent me to fetch you.”
“Okay, let me grab my key,” I said. I rummaged through my purse, finding the key to my flat and placed it into my pocket.
While I had not known Ackerly and Philomena Collins for long, they were already important people in my life. They were my neighbors who quickly found the need to take me under their wing. I think they felt sorry for the poor pregnant American that was obviously on her own, without a husband. The day I moved in, Ackerly was at my door introducing himself. He stood tall in his dark green cardigan with his snow-white hair, inviting me over for tea. Ackerly and Philomena are sweet, like loving grandparents. I truly love talking with them.
“Winter!” Ackerly exclaimed as I walked into the kitchen of their flat. He had just finished with his tea. “Two sugars, right, luv?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied.
Philomena stood in the doorway of her kitchen, her snow-white hair wrapped tightly into a bun on the back of her head. She grabbed at the glasses that were always hanging around her neck.
“So, how are things coming with your book, sweet?” she asked in her high-pitched buttery British brogue.
“Well, I have hit a bit of a roadblock,” I confessed. “I’m not real sure if I should have my heroine leave or stay.”
Ackerly leaned back in his chair and began tapping the seat next to him while giving me some of his insight. “Luv, you need to decide if your lovers really belong together or not. Sometimes leaving makes the heart grow fonder.”
I smiled and took the seat beside Ackerly. “Good advice, Ackerly.”
Ackerly closed his eyes as he said, “Philomena left
me once, but when she came back to me, I knew with no doubt I would never lose her again.”
I glanced at Philomena, who smiled tenderly, then patted the top of her husband’s wrinkled hand. “It tis strange how things in life work out, is it not?” she said softly.
“Tell me,” I asked.
I watched Ackerly’s kindly wrinkled face change into a gaze of remembrance. He stared past me and began to tell his story.
“It was nineteen hundred and forty-nine. I was seventeen years old, and my older brother who I always looked up to had come home for a visit. There on his arm was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She was ravened-haired with large blue eyes and the most perfect ruby red lips.” Ackerly smiled. “Ahh….” He nodded his head. “She was the sun bright and full, that one. I fell in love with her the very moment I laid my eyes upon her, but there was a problem.” Ackerly paused and stared at me. “Winter, are you sure you have time for this story?”
“Yes,” I said. I was already tangled into the threads of his story. I had to hear how things turned out. “Please continue.”
“Day after day I would watch my raven-haired beauty hoping for the chance to touch her. Then guilt would overtake me. I knew my thoughts and wishes were so very wrong. You see, my raven-haired beauty was my brother’s affianced. I could not allow myself the kind of pain it would cause me, him, or her if I acted upon my impulses, so I watched from a far and dreamed of kissing her perfect lips.”
Ackerly sighed longingly, picked up his cup and took a sip of his tea. When he sat his teacup back into the saucer, he continued.
“When my brother and his beauty left, I thought I would indeed die. I needed to see her. I had to so I would sneak off from the farm from time to time and just stand on the street corner across from their flat, waiting to catch a glimpse of her. Sometimes saw her through the window or other times she would leave to run an errand, so I would follow behind, watching her. I knew I wasn’t a smart bloke by following her but I had to see her. She caught me one day and asked me what I was doing in London. I lied but I never believed she believed me—”
“More tea?” Philomena interrupted.
“Sure,” I said. With steady hand, she poured me another cup full.
“My brother was killed a few months later. Hit by an auto as he was walking down the street from his work. He was heading home to his new bride.” Ackerly’s face turned into an ancient mask of sadness now. “It was horrible to lose my brother. I still miss him, every day.” He paused, rubbing almost nervous at the edge of his sleeve. Philomena reached over to pat his hand. He smiled tenderly at her before turning his attention back toward me.
“You see, luv,” he said. “His wife came home to live with me, my mother and my father. In those days, it made sense to come home to the family. Women did not have as many options then as they do now,” Ackerly interjected. I nodded. “At first, my guilt was almost unbearable. I wondered how I could be such a selfish bloke. How could I covet my brother’s wife? Then with the knowledge he was gone, well, I guess it made me feel in some way responsible for his death.” Ackerly looked pained for a moment. “Of course as much as I wanted my raven-haired beauty, I would have never wished for my brother’s death. Never,” he said looking at me with wide eyes.
“Of course,” I agreed.
“In time I convinced myself my fear and guilt over the loss of my brother, and what I wanted was useless. I knew I loved my brother, and I knew he would want his wife and me both to be happy. I knew if he had lived, I would have never acted only dreamed. But now that he was gone, as hard as it was, I was free to act. I warred with myself over the decision to just allow my raven-haired beauty live a life with another or with me. It was a dilemma, because eventually she would find another, and could I live with that? I was not at all sure.” Ackerly smiled at me, his hazel eyes tender. “My selfish side took over. I began to act on my wishes, my hope and my dreams of being with the raven-haired beauty. I knew without doubt she was feeling something for me. When I first kissed her, she cried. She felt she had somehow betrayed my brother. I knew the hopes for our relationship where slim. It seemed we had far too much conspiring against us. She could not get past the fear or the betrayal she felt by having feelings for me.”
I shook my head. “Yes,” I said with total understanding.
“So, Philomena left me,” Ackerly said. “It was the worst day of my young life. It was just like the death of my brother. To know she was gone from me forever and I could never touch her face, look into her eyes, or kiss her perfect lips killed me. I wanted to die. I believe a part of my heart did die when I watched her walk out of my life, and moreover, I knew I had to let her go. I could not keep her against her wishes. Not allow the pain she was suffering.”
“I had to go,” Philomena interjected. “I could not hurt you or myself any further. I loved you so much but I was afraid.” She gazed at Ackerly with such tenderness it was heart-wrenching. “I felt what I was doing was so wrong. It had to be wrong, and I was a silly chit. I should not feel something for another man and so soon after the death of my husband and your brother.” Philomena paused and looked at me. “And then there was the fact Ackerly had just turned eighteen while I was twenty-six. I could not imagine how horrible, how immoral I was for wanting him. I did not deserve him. He was young, so beautiful. He deserved so much more than an older broken woman.” Philomena gazed back at Ackerly. “But in the end all of my efforts were rendered useless. I loved him. There in lied the truth and the answer I had been fighting against. You see I was not broken when I was with Ackerly. My heart would not let me stay away. After two months of total agony I went back.”
Ackerly grinned wide. “When I saw her walking down that dusty road, coming toward my house, I thought my heart would leap from my chest. I was alive again. I ran out the door, down the road, and grabbed her into my arms. I told her I loved her. I wasn’t daft; I wasted no time and asked her to marry me on the spot. She said ‘yes’ and here we are, all these years later, she, my raven-haired beauty, still at my side. Philomena is the love of my life.”
“And you are mine,” she returned.
“That is so wonderful,” I said. “I love when life allows a happy ending.”
“Sweet, you will get your own happy ending, too. You need to believe in that,” Philomena said.
I felt my smile fade and turned to glance out the window. I saw the rain as it fell. “Sometimes we are destined to a lifetime in the rain, standing outside the realm of the sun,” I replied.
Ackerly reached out and touched my hand tenderly. “It’s true,” Ackerly said softly. “Every life has some rain but behind every cloud there is the prospect of the sun. Not every day will be filled with rain. The sun shall come.”
“My sun has come twice in my lifetime. I doubt I can expect it again.”
“Sweet, tell us how you have come to be here?” Philomena asked.
I looked at her and Ackerly, who were holding hands in the kitchen of their flat. Time showing in the lines, wrinkles and age spots of their skin yet their love, their devotion, had never faded and decided, why not? They would understand. Keep my story their own. So I proceeded to tell them the story of my shining sun. I told them about Austin Carlyle and Cayden Cain.
Chapter Nineteen
Birthday
I dreamed about Cayden. He was beautiful, smiling at me, telling me to relax and breathe while he ran his index finger down the surface of my cheek. It was a good dream. I wanted to stay within my dream world where we were together, perfect and happy but found I woke to the sound of the radio. The feel of warmth over my face was the sun shining in through my bedroom window, not the warmth of Cayden’s fingers. I touched my cheek with the remembrance of the dream. It was as if I could feel his touch, it was so real.
I let go of my cheek, stretched then patted my stomach. “Good morning, my baby,” I greeted.
I took a long shower and to no surprise reveled in the heat of the water. It was refreshing t
o my body. I rolled my neck along my shoulders and enjoyed the water while it beat down on the muscles of my back. It felt wonderful, and as usual, I had to pull myself from the sensation and get on with my day. I found some comfortable clothes to put on. It was strange to wear pants that stretch. I missed my jeans. But I knew as time went on, my pants would be stretching even further, so I smiled.
As I always do, every day, I thought about Cayden. I wondered how he was doing. I closed my eyes and remembered the color of his clear blue-gray eyes. The warmth of his hands on my body, the way he would kiss me. My moment was broken by my cell phone buzzing and bouncing across my desktop. I grabbed it before it bounded off the edge.
“Hello.”
“Winter, how are you?”
Melissa’s voice trilled out over the surface of my ear.
“Melissa, I’m fine. How are you?” I asked.
“I am wonderful!” She squealed in delight.
“It sounds like it. The last time we talked, you were a little down. I am glad to hear you so happy. Let me guess why you might sound so ecstatic.”
Melissa giggled in her girlish tinkle. “Okay, guess.”
“Chandler finally noticed you.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “He has asked me out on a real date. I said yes. We are going out tomorrow night.”
Melissa was gushing as she spoke.
“Melissa, that is so wonderful. I was hoping he would pull his head out and get a clue.” I laughed because her laugh was always infectious.
“Now tell me, Winter. Are you really fine?”
I felt my face turn into a scowl.
“You know the answer, Melissa.”
“Yes.” She paused. “I think you both should be together. There has got to be a way.”
“Melissa,” I said.
“I know, Winter. I am still hoping for you two. You know I believe in happy endings.”
“How is he?” I asked.
Melissa became extremely quiet, too quiet then she said, “Well….”
Eternal Page 21
