She didn’t look surprised when she saw me sitting in one of the uncomfortable green chairs in the waiting room of her office.
“Anna,” she whispered as she pulled me into her arms. I started to cry. “Come, let’s go into my office.” She shut the door behind her and kept hold of my hand. We sat facing each other on the two seats adjacent to her desk. She pulled a Kleenex from the box on her shelf and handed it to me. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Tell me what happened,” I said, tears still streaming down my face. They were red and thick, mixed with the blood from my open wound.
Blood and tears. The miraculous Madonna that cried blood for the sins of the world. All consuming pain transformed into rivulets of sorrow.
“I will,” she responded. “But what happened to your face? It looks like you need stitches. The blood hasn’t clotted and your Band-Aid is soaked.”
She pulled open the cabinet by the sink and spread out her instruments before motioning for me to move to the exam table. We stayed silent as she worked on me, her hands deft and light like butterfly touches on my skin. She was a skilled surgeon with a steady hand. When she was done, I urged her to continue with our conversation.
“How did he die?” I asked. “Did he suffer any pain?”
“The autopsy hasn’t been conducted yet, it’s scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’m told there were massive internal injuries.”
“But he’s here?” I sniffed. “Can I see him?”
“I don’t know,” she started off, clasping my hands in hers. “You know it’s against the rules, and the family… Well, you know, there’s still a lot of resentment about the reason he was in Thailand.”
“But,” I sobbed. “But I never got the chance to say goodbye! Please. I’m begging you. Five minutes, two minutes, anything! I’ll die without ever seeing him again. He was my life for so long.” I blew my nose and stood up to throw the Kleenex in the trash.
She shook her head and forced out a sigh before arising to retrieve a pile of papers from her desk. “Well, technically, you’re still his wife.” She sifted through them while tracing the small print with her fingers. “See here,” she pointed to a spreadsheet on one of the pages. “They will keep him here until the morning and then send him to the funeral home. I don’t imagine his family will be here very late. Why don’t you go home and I’ll call you when the coast is clear? Go directly to the 7th floor, room 7221.”
She ran towards me as I burst into tears.
“Listen, I’ll do everything I can for you, you name it. What do you want to do in the meantime?” she asked.
“There’s nothing anyone can do,” I cried.
“Oh, Anna. You both loved each other very much. Make that fact a comfort to you in this time.” She tightened her arms around me.
“I left him for another man,” I sobbed breathlessly.
“You left him out of respect. Out of honesty. That was a very courageous thing to do.”
I nodded my head, cried a little bit more and then pulled away from her, out of breath but not out of tears.
“There’s one more thing you need to know,” she added.
My eyes grew wide, I was filled with trepidation.
“His optometrist recommended that he see me. He had an abnormal growth on the right side of the brain. He told me he would come in for a biopsy after Germany.”
What kind of a God would be so determined to watch you suffer death by a thousand cuts? I covered my face with my hands. There were no more tears left. And so instead, I wanted to bleed, to hurt, to riddle myself with the pain I deserved.
“Take some time off, Anna, okay? Take a leave of absence.”
I nodded my head again.
“I’ll take care of bringing it up at tomorrow’s board meeting. Will you be able to afford it?”
I had thought about all of this during the long flight home from Thailand. I wouldn’t need much. Mikey remained my priority and I had a few months’ savings to tide us over. I nodded my head again.
“Anything you need, Anna,” she said kindly.
“Thank you.” I wiped my tears and checked my face in the mirror before straightening up to leave. My legs were stuck to the floor. My knees refused to unfold, my vision began to fade in and out. There were fire trucks and sirens screeching in my ear and a knife began to dig itself into my heart. My arms became leaden posts anchored to the ground. I couldn’t lift them up to save my life.
“Anna?” She looked at me, her eyes crossed in puzzlement as she reached out to stroke my arm. “Are you all right?”
“I-I can’t—”
I could no longer hear her voice. In fact, I didn’t hear anything. I couldn’t see anything, never felt anything.
“OH GOD, NO. What happened now?” I looked around to find myself in Afihsa’s examination room.
“You fainted.” she said, smiling.
“And?” I asked, annoyed that she seemed to know something that I didn’t.
She drew the curtains back and waved a thin white stick in the air. “Are you strong enough to stand up, Anna? I need you to pee on this stick,” she said.
“You’re crazy,” I barked. “I’m not peeing on a stick. I didn’t have lunch and my blood sugar probably went crazy.”
She turned around and wheeled an ultrasound machine next to my bed. “Then we’re just going to have to find out this way,” she said calmly.
Afihsa’s goofy grin remained pasted on her face. She continued on by lifting up my blouse, inch by inch, careful not to upset me.
“Wait! Stop! I’m not doing this. Stop!” I yelled, holding her hand down tightly against my belly.
“Anna, when was the last time you had your period?”
“I’m not answering you,” I said defensively. “I’m fine now. Just have them get me some food. Besides, I used to be on Ortho Novum. I only stopped when Dante and I—” I paused to glare at her. If I had any ounce of energy left in me, I would have smacked that grin right off her face.
“When, Anna?” she asked again.
“November, but… I’ve been under a lot of stress.”
She inched my blouse up again and this time I let her. There was no stopping this foolishness until I proved her wrong. She squirted the warm jelly on my stomach and pressed the round end of the sonar probe on my skin.
“Yup, just as I suspected. Listen!” she ordered while punching some information into the ultrasound machine.
The sound of bubbles, steady gurgling, pulsating beats among a swishing sound of water overpowered the silence of the room.
I was too shocked to say a word. My eyes were fixed on the screen.
“Oh wait. Listen,” Afihsa said as she slid the sonar to the opposite end of my belly. “Another one. Two heartbeats!”
She wasn’t going to hear a single peep out of me. I was too busy staring at the ceiling, counting the days between Dante and Jude in my head. “And by the looks of this,” Afihsa continued, “I would say that you are… let’s see,” she moved the probe around some more, “you are eight weeks pregnant. This baby—I mean these babies, were conceived around Christmas.”
December 26th. That was when I had barged into his apartment and ended up in his bed.
“That’s impossible!” I shrieked. “I’ve been on the pill!”
“Shit happens, Anna,” Afihsa said indifferently. “And this is good shit, not bad shit. You’re pregnant with twins.”
I was caught up in distress over what was right in front of me. Instead of mourning the loss of my love, there we were, graciously celebrating another man’s child, another man’s victory. Gradually I began to piece together the events of the past few days. Something for something. God was preparing me for a life without Dante. Like a father giving his daughter away on her wedding day.
And then I thought of Jude. I felt the pain of missing him in my bones. What an excellent father he would have been.
“Thank you,” was all I could say.
Afihsa qu
ickly changed the subject. “Dr. Malcolm’s office is on the second floor. I suggest you still go and see him so you can get formally tested and assessed. He can also give you your exact due date. Congratulations!” She pushed the ultrasound machine back and took a seat on the bed next to me. “This is your reason to fight. Fight to go on, Anna. A new life is waiting. And no matter what happens from this day forward, don’t ever, ever lose faith.”
IT WAS LATE into the night by the time I received a text from Afihsa that the coast was clear.
Come on over, she had said. Use your keycard to enter the room. His family left about an hour ago.
It took me two hours to gather up the courage to drive back to the hospital. Seeing him would put an end to the years we had together, to the time that he stayed in my life. I wasn’t ready for the finality of it all. There were pockets in my mind that still fooled me into thinking that this was all a mistake. A dream. That in a few hours, he would saunter back into the apartment, laugh at me and then take me in his arms and assure me that this was all just a big joke. A test.
I’m back now, I would tell him. You never know what you have until you’ve lost it. I know now, I would say. I don’t ever want to be away from you. Don’t do this to me again.
I held the keycard tightly in my hand as I stepped out of the elevator and stumbled along the whitewashed corridor, using all my strength to stay the course, to keep walking towards my destination. This wasn’t the basement, the morgue. I knew that special arrangements must have been made to keep him in a room for the day. The Leolas were benefactors of this hospital, and this was no doubt one of the special favors that were called in for this circumstance. I was a prisoner on death row walking towards my fate. Walking in to confirm my fate. For it had been decided for me less than one week ago.
Seconds later, I stood outside the door of room 7221, awash with unspeakable fear and unimaginable sadness. How did I want to remember him? Do I want to linger in my last memory of him? The day I saw him in his office, before he left for Germany? Didn’t we say goodbye then?
“Anna, what are you doing here?” he’d asked, his eyes lighting up as he saw me sitting on the chair opposite his desk. He had rushed in after cutting short a meeting once his secretary told him I was waiting.
Everything in that office was Dante personified. The leather desk with its matching accessories, couches and end tables and the tall, seamless windows overlooking the Hudson River. He wore a grey suit with a light blue button down shirt and a rose colored tie. He looked powerful, invincible, not anything like the broken man in my bed the night before. Snippets of his successful career adorned the brick walls that surrounded us. Certificates, awards, life-sized paintings of New York graffiti art in graphic colors and shapes, golf clubs, an Artus turntable worth hundreds of thousands of dollars surrounded by vinyl records from every era. He took a seat and leaned back on his chair. We were interrupted by the clicking of high heels and a forced clearing of the throat.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Leola, but your eleven o’clock is waiting in 4 South,” Nelly squeaked apologetically. I wondered whether she knew that we had separated. Her skirt seemed shorter, her blouse too fitted.
“This won’t take long, Nelly,” he snapped. “Offer him some coffee, tell him I’m stuck in another conference call.”
I pushed myself off the chair with my arms. “It’s okay,” I mumbled. “I can go. I just wanted to see you after—”
Nelly had long since then run out of the office. He leaned in. “After what?”
After having Jude inside of me. To validate my feelings, say goodbye in the proper way.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”
“But I was going to stop by anyway, to drop Mikey off, remember?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Where were you last night, Anna?”
“At the hospital. No point in staying home so I took an extra shift.” Protecting my secrets with lies. This is what it has come to.
“Ah.”
More awkward silence. Cars zinged to and fro twenty-eight floors below us. Horns tooting, ambulances, fire trucks, loud music from the holiday markets along the riverfront intent on filling us with Christmas cheer. He stood up, circled around the desk and sat down right in front of me. I reached over to lay my hand on his thigh but he flinched and moved away.
“I’m so sorry, Tey. I’m beside myself, trying to find ways to tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t want this to happen between us. You’ve been so wonderful to me.”
“I don’t want your gratitude, Anna. I wanted your love.”
“I loved you.” I quickly caught myself. “Love. I love you.”
“Not enough to want to start a family with me. I understand it now. Your constant reluctance to have babies—you were waiting for him to come back.”
“No! That’s not it! No. I wanted to love you the way you deserve to be loved. I couldn’t give you enough of myself with him always lurking in the background. We talked about it! I want to deserve you. I don’t deserve you!”
“Fuck it!” He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me before yelling at the top of his lungs. “What the fuck do you think I am? Stupid? Quit dancing around this, will you please? You’re scared and confused, but you had to know that one day it would come to a head. This is what you’d been holding out for. Own it, Spark! Tell me what you really mean! Please, have more respect for me than that!” People walking by his office stopped short and peeked inside as they heard him bellow. He pressed the button by the wall to activate the shades. “Tell me the truth!” We watched the blinds roll down in silence until there we were, cocooned in the darkness.
I twisted my fingers around my wedding ring until it slipped off, and placed it on the table. “I. I. I want to be with Jude,” I whispered.
He lost his balance as if taken aback by an unforeseen force. I will never forget the look of pain on his face, the grimacing flutter of his eyes, the sallowness of his cheeks. He clutched his heart before quickly regaining his composure. “So, go. Fucking go.”
I blocked his path as he moved ahead and stepped into his arms. “Please, Tey. I swear to you! I thought I was over him! If he didn’t come back we would’ve been fine!”
He cast a fleeting glance on the diamond that sat atop his desk.
“But he did,” he whispered as he held me tighter than he’d ever done, stealing whiffs of my hair, nuzzling my neck. I felt cheap, dirty, sullied. This was his way of saying goodbye. “He came back.”
And with those words, he walked away.
I let out a loud gasp as the heavy door closed behind me and I caught a glimpse of the large metal bed in the middle of the room. The pain in my chest left me breathless, unable to move my feet towards him. He was draped in a light white sheet that covered him entirely. I stood for a moment before gathering up the strength to move forward. It took ten long steps to get me to his side, one step for each year we had been together. Steps that could never be retraced, never be recovered. Slowly, I pulled back the sheet to reveal his face. He was still as beautiful as ever, sleeping in peace with not a mark on him.
He’d been gone for five days.
This sudden realization knocked me down on my knees, besieged me with convulsions that wracked my body and shook me up with tears. I was sobbing, wailing, banging my fists on the cold cement floor, begging for him to forgive me. I was the prodigal lover who had returned after wandering halfway around the world with another man. How would I explain it? How would I even begin to show him true repentance?
And then when I thought I had no more tears to shed, I sat on the floor, leaned my back against the bed’s metal legs and closed my eyes. A distinctive chill took over the room. It was cold in there to begin with, but this time, the air in the room had turned into ice.
“Spark.” The unmistakable sound of his voice. I shot my eyes open to find him sitting next to me. Legs folded, arms gathered around his knees.
“Tey!” I shrieked. A feeling of
calm washed upon me. I was sitting next to my best friend. I reached over to touch him. His skin felt warm, his eyes were full of life. Bright green and transparent. He wore his favorite plaid shirt and torn up jeans. I was shocked by what was taking place, and yet, the insurmountable surge of love and security that I felt whenever he was around put me at ease. He felt like home; he was my home. I kissed him tenderly on the lips and scooted myself downward so that I could lean my head on his shoulder. His lifted his arm and gently stroked my hair with his fingers.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“What happened to your face?” he asked, tilting my chin up to take a look at my cheeks.
“Nothing, another clumsy slip,” I answered facetiously.
“My poor baby.” He traced his finger right above the jagged line. “Are you mad at me?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Like, on a scale of one to ten?”
“Ten.”
“Good to know. Will you spank me then?” His tone was light, his voice a bit stronger.
“Tey!” I lifted my head up to see him smile. But the heaviness in my heart gave me away, and I returned his lighthearted comment with unrelenting tears.
He tightened his hold on me while I sobbed uncontrollably. He didn’t move or say a word as I released my anger, my sadness, and my fears into his neck. He waited patiently, remained strong and solid, rubbing my back with his hand. I reached for his hand, swiped it across my face, brought it to my lips, and kissed it.
“I’m sorry, Spark.”
I sat up and looked into his eyes. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re gone because of me!”
“I know I never returned your calls. I was trying so hard to forget. I met a woman while I was there and we were together for those short weeks.” He glanced at me to gauge my reaction.
“Did she make you happy?” I touched his face with my fingers.
“She did. For the time being, it worked. After all my anger, of course. And then as time went by, she saw how much I missed you. She convinced me to go after you, follow you to Thailand.”
In This Life Page 22
