by Taylor Dean
“I’m sorry I’ve behaved badly. I’ll make it right.”
“Okay, good. You two are perfect for each other.”
That’s exactly why this is so hard. “I’ll go and talk to him tonight. I promise.” I glance at my watch. “He should be done at the restaurant soon.”
“Do you want to talk now?” Dakota asks.
I shake my head in the negative. “Maybe later. Not right now.”
Dakota understands. But I still feel as though I’ve hurt her feelings. It makes me feel like a walking and talking demolition machine, leaving a path of heartbreak in my wake.
Before I leave, Dakota hugs me again. “It’ll all work out in the end,” she tells me.
I hug her back and say, “Thank you for being such a good and patient friend.”
Then I walk very, very slowly down the street and face Julian’s apartment with dread in my heart.
There it is. The light in the window.
When Julian is home, his lamp always burns bright in his window. It’s always on until he retires for the night.
I’ve come to think of it as a beacon of sorts, calling to me, begging to guide me home.
Because Julian is my home. Wherever he is, that’s where I belong.
No. No, no, no. We are not meant to be. I must find Paul. I can’t deviate from destiny.
It’s time to face him. He needs to know where we stand. And why I have to let him go.
Two hours until curfew. I have two hours to explain my life story to Julian. To destroy him. To hurt him.
I don’t want to do this. I just want to pull my magic cloak around myself and remain invisible for the rest of my life.
As quietly as I can, I walk up the stairs leading to his apartment. I take a deep breath and knock on the door.
He opens the door and I’m met with a subdued Julian, his eyebrows deeply furrowed, his eyes searching.
It’s not the Julian I’m familiar with. There’s absolutely no sign of his usual sense of humor.
“Come in,” he says politely, but he doesn’t stay at the door. Instead he turns, walks to the table, closes his laptop, and gathers up his paperwork, placing it in a file folder.
I close the door behind me, silently observing him. Although he’s polite, his reception is frosty. His body language is saying, “I’m shut down and closed for business.” What did I expect?
When there’s nothing left for him to do, he folds his arms and finally looks at me. “Are you feeling better?”
I love that he asks after my health even though I know he’s upset with me. “Yes, thank you.”
We’re both quiet for several moments, then he says, “I’ve thought back on our time together over and over and over. I can’t figure out where we went wrong.”
I hate this. I hate the defeated look on his face and the worry in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” We stand across the room from each other as if the expanse represents the divide between us. “Can I explain?” I say, hating the distance that separates our lives.
“I feel like you’ve already said it without saying anything at all.”
Inwardly I cringe, feeling ashamed of my actions. I’ve already hurt him before I’ve even said a word. “Please let me.”
“Will it make any difference?”
I wish so much that this news will make no difference to him whatsoever. Reality is a hard pill to swallow. “I still think I owe you an explanation.” Perhaps that answers his question in a roundabout way.
“Okay.” His demeanor can only be described as restrained. “I’m listening.” I hate his haggard appearance. Especially when I know my actions have caused it.
“I owe you an apology. It was wrong of me to avoid you the last several days. I foolishly thought I could back out of your life and you wouldn’t notice.”
He winces. “Why? Did I do something to upset you?”
“No. Not one single thing. You’ve brought nothing but happiness to me.”
A look of anguish crosses his features. “I don’t understand.”
I remember the night he told me about the names Chinese people sometimes use for each other in order to appear humble, and how they had resonated with me.
“I would be a clumsy thorn to you. I am . . . beneath your pavilion.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again.”
“You don’t understand. I’m not a Dulcinea. I’m an Aldonza.”
“That’s not what I see.”
“I know. And I love you for it.”
“So you do love me?” he asks slowly.
“Yes. That’s not the issue.”
His features soften. “I don’t think anything else matters.”
Paul Ellis had taught me that love is sometimes not enough. “I wish it were that easy.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s not. I need to tell you something, something I should have told you from the very beginning.” Leading up to this moment, I felt composed, ready to have a calm and collected conversation with Julian.
Now I’m getting worked up and emotional. My soft voice turns fierce and tinged with passion. I begin to pace his apartment, talking half to Julian and half to myself. “I have no idea when it’s the right time to tell someone this news. I mean, should I blurt it out on a first date? After the first kiss? When? When do you announce life changing news? I mean, just because I’m dating someone doesn’t mean they see us married and having a future together. If I announce this to them, they will think I see us married and I might scare them off. They’ll think I’m the crazy girl who sees herself married to every guy she dates. Who wants to talk about marriage on the first date? Maybe the second date? No! When exactly does this fit into the conversation? Maybe I should announce it before I ever go on a date. By the way, just so you know, before you fall in love with me, you might want to be aware that I’m broken.”
“Broken?” he says almost inaudibly.
I hesitate, my eyes filling with tears. “Yes. I am the worthless one on the inside.” Heaven help me, Paul Ellis did a number on me. He destroyed my self-confidence.
Julian’s eyes blink long and slow. He whispers, “Don’t.”
I’m not really filled with self-deprecation. But this subject makes me insecure, unconfident, and is definitely my Achilles heel. I continue pacing. “Maybe I should wear a sign on me announcing it to the world. That way no one will even glance my way unless they’re okay with it.” I run my hands through my hair, knowing I must sound a little crazy. My rant ends with a deep sigh. Finally I stand still and whisper, “I don’t know when it’s the right time to tell this to someone.”
A look of alarm registers on his face.
Duly noted.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says.
My breath rushes out in a deep exhale and I stare at the floor. “I know. I’m sorry.” Calming myself down, I swear I’ll never have this horrible conversation again. From here on out, it’ll be something I tell whomever I’m dating right away. I’ll blurt it out and get it over with every time. No matter how uncomfortable, no matter how awkward.
“I apologize for not telling you this sooner.” I clear my suddenly tight throat. “When I was twelve years old, I received tragic news.”
He looks a little stunned and confused. “What kind of tragic news?”
“The worst news a girl can hear.” At least, when that girl has been raised to believe that family is the most important thing in the world; that family is the one thing that lasts forever after you leave this green earth.
“Tell me,” he says.
And I begin to tell him my story.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Twelve Years Old
“SAVANNAH, CAN YOU come down here, please?”
It’s my father. I finish my last math problem and bounce down the stairs, relieved to have my homework complete for the night.
I enter the living room to find all eyes on me. Saige, Sadie, and Saman
tha sit rather formally on the couch, and my mom and dad are sitting across from them.
“Please sit down, Savannah,” my mother says, pointing to the wingback chair.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong per se. We’d just like to speak with you about something very important.” My father clears his throat, something he tends to do when he’s nervous.
“Okay.” In spite of his words, I’m uncomfortable. The atmosphere in the room is heavy and no one is smiling.
“First, I want you to know how much I love you, Savannah. You make our family complete. Without you, I would’ve always felt as though I was missing something,” my father says, his voice cracking.
“I love you too, Dad.” I begin to panic. Everyone looks so sad.
My mother smiles at me with kind eyes. “I didn’t know I would be blessed with another little one when you came along, my dear, sweet, Savannah. You are an absolute joy in my life. I love you so much.”
I’ve heard these sentiments before and I love them. They always make me feel special. “Love you too, Mom.” I pause. “Um . . . did I do something wrong?”
They all start to laugh, not a natural laugh, the kind of laugh that relieves nervous tension. I laugh with them, feeling unsure why I’m laughing. Nothing is particularly funny. Regardless, I like feeling happy. Especially when facing my somber family.
“I want you to always remember that you have a family that loves you and we are always, always here for you,” Saige says.
I can tell she’s holding back tears, like she doesn’t want to cry in front of me or something. I don’t say anything this time. My family is leading up to something and, instinctively, I know it isn’t going to be good news.
It’s Sadie’s turn next. “You will never be alone. You will always have us. We are your family.”
Samantha agrees. “That’s right. No matter what, a family sticks together and supports each other. By ourselves we are weak, but together we are strong. We’ll help make you strong, Savannah.”
Touched by my sisters’ kind words, I look at each of them, wondering what in the world is going on.
My father takes over. “I know you’re wondering why we wanted to share our love for you, Savannah. We do have something to tell you, something that will affect your life and will probably make you feel sad. And that’s okay, you’re allowed to feel sad. You’re even allowed to feel angry. But we want you to know, this news doesn’t change your value or your worth in any way. You will still have a long and happy life, full of joy and gladness.”
My mother chimes in, “Yes, sweetheart, life is filled with so many new and exciting things. Your life is ahead of you, filled with endless possibilities. You can do anything you’d like to do.”
There’s an “except” coming. I know it, I can feel it in my bones.
My father looks me directly in the eyes. “We made the decision to tell you this when you were at an age where you could understand it. Telling you when you were younger would’ve just confused you.”
My mother kneels down next to me, holding my hand. “Savannah, remember when you had appendicitis when you were eight years old? During that time the doctors performed several tests on you. They discovered that you were born with a syndrome called MRKH. This means you were born without a uterus.”
Shock runs through my body and I say nothing.
“Do you understand what that means, sweetheart?”
“I can’t have a baby.” My mind whirls and tears pool in my eyes. “I’ll never have a family.”
“There are many, many other options, sweetheart. You can still have a family of your own. But you can’t carry the baby yourself, that is correct.”
Tragic news. This is my tragic news. Miss Pearl told me it would come and it has.
Chapter Twenty-Five
November
THE MOON IS a slit in the sky, lending not a speck of light into Julian’s windows.
It doesn’t matter. His eyes blaze enough to light a room. He studies me intently, emotion evident in every feature of his handsome face.
I know that look. It’s the same devastated look Paul Ellis had given me. Until that horrible Paul Ellis moment, I’d always assumed my husband and I would adopt. I’d always assumed that if the man truly loved me, it wouldn’t matter. My family had drilled that thought into my heart. Reality quickly knocked me down a peg or two. No, reality knocked me out cold.
Paul Ellis had quickly made me realize that it was extremely important to many men to have their own biological children. He made me realize it was much more of a game changer than my well-meaning family had led me to believe.
And it completely changed my outlook. It’s why Paul Brooks had seemed so perfect. He didn’t want a family. Problem solved.
“So . . . you’re ending things between us?” Julian asks quietly.
“Yes. I can’t give you what you want in life.” A few tears escape and I wipe them away quickly.
He remains quiet.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. Things escalated quickly between us. We never really spoke about our future and . . .” Excuses, excuses. “I wasn’t expecting you and me to happen. I mean, it just felt like I would be assuming a lot to even feel the need to tell you and . . .” I pause, feeling like the lowest of the low. “This isn’t something that’s easy for me to talk about. I’m sorry, Julian, I really am.” I turn to leave.
“Savannah, wait.”
When I turn to face him, he’s taken a few steps closer.
“Do you love me? Really love me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say with no hesitation whatsoever.
“Then you don’t get to decide this for me.”
“Yes, I do,” I tell him with conviction. “I know what you want and I can’t give it to you. I’m not going to make you choose.”
“It’s not your choice to make.”
“It is!” I say, taking several deep breaths. “Or maybe I just can’t face your choice. Okay? Just let it be.”
“You don’t know what my answer will be. At least give me the chance to respond.”
“I’ve been through this once before. He left me. I can’t do it again.” I turn toward the door.
“I love you,” Julian says to my back. “You, Savannah. Not for what you can or can’t give me. Yes, I want children, but I could have ten biological children with someone else and be the most miserable man on the earth. If I don’t have you, I have nothing.”
I’m immediately overcome with emotion. “But . . .” My shoulders shake as I try to suppress tears.
“No, there is no but. I don’t need to think about it and I don’t need to process the information. I know my own mind. I love you, Savannah Tate. You are what makes me happy. I want to spend my life with you.”
I suspected Julian’s response would be very different than the response I’d received from Paul Ellis. But I didn’t expect his immediate acceptance. I didn’t expect him to know it doesn’t matter to him with so much confidence. It throws me and a deep, guttural sob escapes, a sound I don’t recognize as coming from myself.
My hands cover my face and for just a few moments I can’t regain control of my emotions. Gut wrenching sobs burst forth and I cry so hard it hurts. Julian approaches, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“Shhhhhh,” he soothes, holding me close. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
After that speech, I want to throw my arms around him and kiss him until he can’t breathe. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting to—needing to—hear.
He loves me. Really loves me.
He doesn’t ask if the rest of me is normal or not—which it is, after a very painful surgery when I was a teenager, that is—and I love him for it.
A major obstacle in my life has just been brushed away as if it’s simply annoying lint on a jacket. It means the world to me. This is huge, this is monumental.
I give in to my desires. I turn, face him,
and we embrace, kissing as if we haven’t seen one another for a year.
But, my tears don’t stop. No, they multiply. They take over and conquer.
Julian is not Paul.
The kiss ends and he rests his forehead on mine. “It’s okay, Savannah. We’ll figure this out.”
“No, we won’t. We won’t, we won’t,” I whisper.
If only my life could be that simple. If it was, this moment would be an instant happily ever after. Instead, my mind reels from a twisted hot mess of complicated.
In the end, I can’t follow my heart, no matter how much it tells me Julian is the right one for me.
He isn’t. He can’t be. He’s not Paul. What am I doing?
I shake my head in the negative, biting my lip to hold back tears. “No,” I say, then gasp through a sob. I back away and feel so lost without him. “You’re perfect for me. And I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”
“No?” he says with disbelief. A few guttural sounds escape as he searches for words. “I don’t understand. Why?”
“Because of a Red Bird.”
He looks completely confused. “A red bird?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head, perplexed. “I’m gonna need more than that.”
“And I’ll give it to you. Everything. But it won’t be easy for you to accept.”
“Try me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thirteen Years Old
“THAT WAS THE best movie I’ve ever seen,” Saige declares, wiping at her tears.
“Are you still crying?” Samantha scoffs.
“I’m pregnant. My hormones are all over the place,” Saige says and then sobs a little more.
We’d just seen the movie I Am David and it’d made all of us cry. Saige just hadn’t recovered as quickly as the rest of us.
“I’m also starving. Where are we going?” Saige demands.
Another pregnancy symptom. She’s hungry all the time. A little twinge of sadness overwhelms me, knowing I’ll never experience having a baby, but I sweep it aside. Today is a happy day.
