In This Life

by Christine Brae

  “Aha. So this is her fault!” I exclaimed.

  He laughed at my doggedness. “Things are falling into place. You were meant to be with Jude.” He enunciated every syllable as if he wanted his words to penetrate through my skin.

  “Not like this. Not at your expense,” I replied. “This is so unfair.”

  “Okay, I admit it, this is a little extreme.” He let out a whoop as he caught the look of humiliation on my face. I dipped my head so that my nose was rubbing itself on his cheek. He reciprocated by holding my head in place. I aligned my lips with his and kissed him. “Seriously,” he said as I pulled away, “it would have been you and him no matter what happened. We can’t change the master plan, we just have to roll with it. The blueprint was drawn ages ago.”

  “I’m not letting you go. I’ll die if you leave me. It’s been proven before, I can survive anything when you’re with me. You’re part of my program and your love has always been the main act. Jude was the subplot,” I said, tears in my eyes.

  “I am! I’m a part of your grand plan. But it’s me who’s the subplot. You see, this is all happening for a reason. Life is short, Spark. We’d been living through this bullshit for five years.” I understood what he was trying to do; he was making sure that I would be all right without him. He wanted to hear me say that I was in love with someone else. He waited for me to respond. When I didn’t, he continued. “Isn’t there something else you need to tell me?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Dang, that guy’s good!” My mouth hung open in shock. “Lighten up, Spark! Dead people see everything. I know and it’s such great news!”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I cried. “I fell more in love with him in the fifty-eight days we had together. But it’s not that I didn’t think of you, Tey. I—”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “I know. You don’t have to explain anything. The fact that you gave him up for that one tiny glimmer of hope for me. I know.”

  The dam burst and I became a blubbering mess. I cried because I felt relief. All I ever wanted was to make him understand that I had never stopped loving him. That he was always on my mind and in my heart. “I’m so ashamed. I wanted to do this the right way, you know. When you encouraged me to spend time with Jude, I thought that it would be the only way for me to get over him. To move on. Please believe me, I was going to tell you as soon as we got back from Thailand. I was going to ask for a divorce.”

  He continued to stroke my hair as I firmly rested my head on his shoulder. We were silent for a few seconds. I was besieged with need for his forgiveness.

  “You know now, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you know why I didn’t tell you.” He squeezed my hand as he said this.

  “Yes.”

  Our hearts whispered to one another. But all I wanted to do was to listen to his voice, to hear him speak. And I knew that he had so much to say before we ran out of time. “You would have left him to take care of me. That’s just who you are.”

  I tilted my head back to take a hard look at his face. We locked eyes for an eternity. It was as if he, too, was trying hard to commit my face to memory.

  “I just thought… I thought we had all the time in the world,” I cried.

  He nodded his head and squeezed my hand. “I’m so proud of you. I’ve never met anyone as steadfast, uncompromising, and principled as you,” he continued. “It’s been an honor to be in your life. Never change, okay?”

  “The honor is mine, Tey. Thank you for loving me the way that you do.”

  “It’s you, Spark. You’re the one I should be thanking. You gave yourself to me for one year. I kissed your lips, held your hand, and shared your dreams with you. What a privilege that was for me. I will leave knowing that you loved me back.”

  He will leave. He will float around the universe without me.

  “The James.” I smiled, remembering the night that started it all for us.

  “The best night of my life,” he answered. “You truly belonged to me then.”

  “And now, all I have are those memories. God has punished me, made sure that I suffer for the rest of my life,” I said with resentment.

  “Suffering is redemptive,” he countered. “Didn’t he tell you that when he explained the meaning of the breaking of bread at mass?”

  “Who told you that?” I snapped irritably. I didn’t want to talk about Jude. I wanted to tell him how much each moment we had together meant to me. There was so much to say, and I knew that time wasn’t on my side.

  “Jude. He said that the breaking of bread is symbolic of brokenness. You have to be broken to be saved. That Christianity is rooted in suffering. Jesus was open about how being a disciple and following in His footsteps will surely castigate you, banish you from the rest of the world. That it was a necessary torment.”

  “How did—” I started to say. And then I understood. The dead, they see everything.

  His eyes lit up and the softening of his face told me that this was what he truly believed. There was a lifting of the corners of his mouth. Not so much a smile, but a reassurance.

  “Don’t cry,” he urged. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m scared. I’m only crying because I feel sorry for myself. I don’t feel sorry for you, you’ll be in a better place, I know.” I continuously swiped my hand across my face to dry my tears and did it with such a force that for a while, I thought I had bruised myself. I would take any pain but this. Any pain.

  “I said some mean things to you when we fought that day you came to my office. I didn’t mean them, please know that,” he said breathlessly. There were times during this moment that I could hardly discern his words. The volume of his voice drifted in and out like a dream.

  “I know. It wasn’t you. Those weren’t your words,” I said. “You are the kindest, most generous, most lovable human being I have ever known. Only the good die young. And I’m terrified that I won’t be seeing you for a while.”

  “Oh, Spark. You’re the beauty in this world that life has to offer. You have to know that. You have this great shame about Jude, but you don’t see how easy it is to fall in love with you.”

  I refused to remove my eyes from his face. I wanted to enshrine him forever in my memory—the slightly raised scar above his nose, the tiny mole on his left eyelid, the wrinkle just above his lip, and the lush green forest in his eyes. Everything he said, the way he said them, his voice, his laughter. I wanted to shine a camera on him to record every single detail. How did I do that? How did I keep him with me? How did I keep him when I had to let him go?

  “Fine, you win,” I gave in. “I’ll see you in heaven then?”

  “I’ll see you.” He smiled. “In the meantime, while you’re waiting for your turn, know that everything happens for a reason. Don’t be angry like you were when your mother passed away, okay? Don’t waste your time grieving for me, because I want this. I want you to remember me when I was strong, hot and hunky, funny and oversexed.” We both laughed out loud. It was the last time I would hear that sweet, wonderful sound. His laughter. That’s what I would miss the most.

  “Live life for me. And go to him. Go to Jude. Make lots of beautiful babies.” He paused as he strained his eyes to gain focus. “Name one after me. And if you don’t behave, I’ll be back to set you straight.” I settled my cheek next to his and closed my eyes as he continued to speak. The vibration of his voice against my skin, the warm air that blew out of his lips into my hair. I noticed everything, felt every single sensation, bathed myself in his presence and wished that I could absorb it into my veins. “He’s a good guy, Spark. He wanted to tell you the truth. I was the one who told him that there was no point in doing so. I was the selfish one.”

  I couldn’t see him through my tears. I blinked several times, afraid that I would lose sight of him.

  “That doesn’t matter to me now. I love you, Tey. Please, please don’t leave me. You promised! You prom
ised you would never leave!” I watched as he struggled to stay with me; the force of death was coercive and deceitful. He nodded his head at something far off on the opposite end of the room.

  “You and I, we both need our peace. I want you to have yours. You were not the cause of this—this was simply part of the grand design. You gave me the happiest years of my life, you inspired me to become who I am. You kept me going after my dad died, you taught me about strength of character and conviction. You need to let me go, okay? Let me live out my next life. This life has been fulfilled.”

  It made sense to me. The reason he was here. “You’re here because of this.”

  “Yes. I couldn’t leave without making sure you’d be okay. No shortcuts, Spark. That’s never been my style.”

  Fate had always toyed with me. Given me the opposite of everything I had ever prayed for. I asked him not to leave me, and in a matter of seconds, he would be gone.

  “Don’t you see? It’s all part of God’s plan. He won’t leave you alone. He gave us Jude to make sure that you won’t be alone. Jude is here to take care of you for me. For me, Spark.”

  I gave in to the flow of my tears. I surrendered to the agony of saying goodbye for the last time. “You can go now, Tey. You deserve your peace. I will always, always love you. And I will always look for you in the stars.”

  He turned to me and smiled.

  It was the most glorious of smiles. A smile from which dreams are made. A smile to heal the most fragmented of hearts. A smile full of love that would last for a lifetime.

  I heard his voice for the very last time. “I have the lanterns, Spark. Tell him that I have your lanterns!”

  A bright, blinding light shone in through the window and I felt his hold slipping away, but still I gripped and grasped and held on until I found myself clinging to nothing but empty space.

  And then like light, gentle rain on a soft bed of grass, a soothing, consoling whisper filled my ears.

  “Remember, Spark. Your name. Fighter. Spitfire. Love. You.”

  “SO HOW DO you like it? Is it good enough for our first date?” Dante asked as he led me through the door, away from the crowded bar and out into the open air.

  “I love it!” I exclaimed. “I think it’s nicer than the other rooftop bars in New York. Makes me wonder why there’s no one here.”

  He smiled at me impishly but didn’t say a word, taking pleasure in the fact that I hated surprises. We took our places on the wooden chairs right by the glass barrier overlooking the city on a windless summer night. The sky was clear, the moon was glowing, and the stars sparkled through the heavens like fireworks on the fourth of July.

  Independence. The day I declared myself free to love again.

  A group of men appeared out of nowhere and began to play music on their violins. Two waiters appeared with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne, and two more waiters with plates upon plates of appetizers followed suit.

  A beautiful woman with short black hair and a flowing red dress took her place by the microphone, and from her lips came the most beautiful song of love. It was about the night a nightingale sang in a place where two people had just met.

  “Wait a minute,” I said, embarrassed. “You rented the whole place?”

  “I wanted tonight to be special. There’s something I want to say to you,” he said as he leaned over to me and took my hands in his. He cleared his throat and began in a shaky voice.

  “Spark, sometimes I forget how long I’ve known you. We’ve been friends for so many years, shared so many experiences, been to so many places together. And yet, after all this time, every day I spend with you is as wonderful and exciting as the first day that I met you. I’m in love with you, Spark. I so desperately want out of this friendship so that I can become your partner in life instead. I want to try to make you happy. I want to love you, to kiss you, to touch you, to make love to you. Please, Spark. Please give me a chance. Please tell me that you’ll give us a chance.” He looked at me searchingly, waiting for any kind of reaction.

  “You’re saying you want us to date? As in exclusively?” I asked, surprised.

  He reached for my cheeks and held them tenderly in his hands. Slowly, gently, he pulled my face towards him and kissed me. It was poignant and heartrending, real and authentic. I could feel his love in the fragility of his emotions; I could taste forever in the sweetness of his kiss. For the first time in a long time, I had hope that my heart could live again.

  “I love you, Anna Dillon,” he whispered as the violins played to the melody in my heart.

  “Guess what?” I teased, skimming my tongue across his lips, believing more than ever that he would be the one to make me forget. I missed being me. I wanted myself back, the strong, silly, outrageously obstinate, happy me.

  “What?” he asked, still holding my face in place and rubbing his nose against mine.

  “I love you too, Dante Leola.”

  They found me with him the next day. Veronica and Elena Leola, mother and daughter, burst into tears as they walked into the room to find me with their son. I had fallen asleep on the stretcher next to him, my body squeezed tightly against the cold sheet that separated me from his skin. No one asked this question out loud. How I ended up there or how they found us with his hands clasped firmly around mine and his head facing in my direction was never mentioned nor brought up ever again. The two women held me in their arms for a long time before we gently covered him up. I planted one last kiss on his lips before they led me out the door. And into the Psych Ward.

  On a rainy day in the middle of March, just two weeks shy of turning thirty and surrounded by friends and family, Dante Leola was offered up to the heavens. I wished I could say that I jumped up in fear when I woke up that morning, but I didn’t. For one hour after they found me, I longed to remain hidden inside his arms, refusing to step out of the confines of his embrace. I’d never known a world without him in it, never imagined I would have to learn to live in one. I was fraught with the need to absorb his peace, for I knew that once I emerged from his protection, I would be left destitute and alone in this world. But in my heart, I knew that he wanted his rest and had finally achieved it.

  I allowed the stars in the sky and the God of the universe to lead the way without any question, and I willingly gave up all my diffidence.

  But nothing changed the fact that there was a hole in my heart and I didn’t know how to fill it.

  Fate leads to choice leads to fate. I gave Jude up so he could pray for us, but I should have known that no amount of prayer could deviate your life’s plan.

  On the day of his funeral, the world compressed itself into a single space where all the people that mattered to him gathered around in a testimony to the exuberance that he had brought into our lives. Donny, Kingston, Peter, Delmar, and Mikey stood proud and tall as pallbearers and as friends. His parents, his cousins, his aunts and uncles reminisced about the naughty little boy who had been so full of energy, so full of life. Maggie was my compass; she guided me forward, helping me place one foot in front of the other. Milena was slightly showing with her second baby on the way.

  But Paulina, she was the one who truly stole my heart. She was me five years ago, the young girl who had waited for the man who promised he would call. I cried for her because she had never gotten the chance to truly know Dante. At least I could say that I had fifty-eight days with Jude.

  When I stood up to deliver the eulogy, I had a change of heart. Instead of speaking about the man himself and the millions of ways that he had graced our lives, I spoke about the people that he loved. In life, Dante was never as vocal, as demonstrative about his feelings. But I, of all people, knew just how much he loved them. I narrated what he used to say to me about them, the stories he would tell, the experiences that meant the world to him. I wanted to open up his heart to the people who loved him. I wanted them to know with utmost certainty that Dante was thankful to have had them in his life.

  Jude was there, at the funera
l, standing in a dark blue suit and tie under the great big oak tree that had witnessed the tears of the grieving for hundreds and hundreds of years. I saw him rush towards me when my knees gave way as they lowered my best friend into the ground and I begged him not to leave me. No one knew that my tears weren’t for Dante; they were for Jude. They were for him and the children he would never see.

  I don’t know what I would have done if he had ended up standing next to me. I guess it didn’t matter now. He was gone shortly after that. He had paid his respects and returned to his church to pray for our souls.

  Two days after I last saw him, Jude left a voicemail message on my phone.

  “Anna. The thing about…” He paused to collect himself, and I could tell that he was crying. “The thing about the clouds is that they never stay in one place for very long. The winds will come and carry them far away from you and me. And when that happens, the sun will come out and the sky will become blue once again. And our lanterns, you will see them, Anna. Dante is holding on to them just for us.”

  FOUR WEEKS AFTER the funeral, life was slowly becoming more tolerable. Mikey went back to school, and I spent most of my hours at the hospital, stopping by the apartment only when it was absolutely necessary. His things remained untouched—his towels, his pillows, his clothes - they were tucked away in a place I could never revisit. All I remembered were the good times, the happiness and love that we both once shared all but a few months ago. And I prayed. Lord, did I pray. I begged God to make me dream of him, but the angels had taken him away to their side, and he was just too good to mingle among mortals. He was one of them now.

  And I was just one of me.

  I finally found the strength to listen to his last voicemail. The one he left on the way to Phuket. The one he recorded as he walked down the jetway to board the plane. I could hear his footsteps as they pounded lightly on the metal floor, I heard the flight attendant welcome him and I heard the click of the safety belt as he settled himself into his seat.