by Erin Hayes
I'm looking forward to it.
Sachiko and I go to the bar, where I sat with Ferdinand until late. As I order my drink, I can't help but look over to the space where Ferdie and I had gone to just talk. And the thing of it is, I did have a really good time with him then. And I feel his absence now more than I had expected.
"Alexandra?"
Sachiko's voice breaks into my thoughts, and I blink several times before turning back to her. "Sorry," I say, giving myself a shake. "I think I'm jet-lagged."
"Hopefully you will be recovered by Saturday." She picks up her wine. "Because I expect you to be ready for the party afterwards."
I pick up my own drink that the bartender had set down and we both turn away to find a table to sit at so we can chat. I make a point to steer away from where Ferdie and I had talked, and I sit down with my back to the area.
Okay, so maybe I still have feelings over what happened. But I know my limits.
"So tell me," I say, taking a sip of my wine. "What should I expect with your wedding? I really only know about Western-style weddings."
Sachiko nods, like she's been expecting this question, and perhaps she has. "Well, my ceremony will be at Zojoji Temple." Sachiko launches into an explanation where she tells me about everything that goes into a traditional Shinto-style wedding. She even tells me that there are other styles of wedding in Japan, but she wanted to do something traditional that speaks to her roots. And then she tells me that the ceremony that happens at the temple is closed to everyone except close family and friends.
I blink, feeling somewhat caught off guard and a little disappointed that I won't be going to the temple. "Oh," I say, sitting back. I think about the Jizo statue I had put up, and I had hoped that I would see it again during this trip.
I hadn't realized until now how much I'd been looking forward to it.
Sachiko must have picked up on my thoughts, because she puts her hand over mine and gives it an encouraging squeeze. "I want you there for the ceremony," she says warmly, and I blink, confused. "I know that you’re my friend and my sister at heart.”
“Really?” I ask.
She tells me what will happen in the temple, and I listen as she talks me through the ceremony and what to expect.
“There will be friends and family outside as we walk the grounds of the temple in our hakama and shiromoku. It will be fun, Alexandra." She smiles. "You will have fun."
I nod. "I look forward to it."
"And Mamoru is excited to see you, too," Sachiko says. Her expression brightens as she talks about her fiancé. There's a part of me that is melancholy, wondering if I could have ever been like her.
But I brush it away and lift my glass. "I look forward to meeting him. And your family," I add as our glasses clink together.
We drink to celebrate our memories and embrace the future. We talk about the future. About the past and the times we spent together in New York and in Washington. And I realize just how much I miss my friend. Sachiko and I haven't been working together for several years now, but talking with her, I wish I'd had more time with her. Growing up as internationally as I did, there have been many, many friends that I've been separated from.
I should have kept in better touch.
After talking for a couple hours, Sachiko goes back to her flat to prepare for her wedding, and I go up my room in the hotel. It’s a different room than I had stayed in before and far less expensive, but it’s still swanky and posh with that trademark Shangri-La attention to detail.
I set my luggage by the door—I don’t have much as I’m only here for the wedding. I check my phone one last time—I don’t have any messages or voicemails, and there’s something so lonely about that. The last time I was here, I could count on James to reach out to me.
Not this time. And I feel empty because it. Not because I’m broken-hearted over James, because I don’t think I ever loved him.
It’s because I’m thinking of someone else. Perhaps Sachiko’s wedding is also making me think of what-ifs.
I sigh and lie back on the bed, facing the ceiling with my arms splayed out. I wonder, not for the first time, if I should call Ferdinand.
After Father stopped by for his trip two months ago, I’ve thought of doing that many, many times. Speaking with Pappa had been cathartic and revealing that I’d had a relationship with Ferdinand opened up my heart more than I could have ever believed.
It was as though it had been a therapy session, except with my father rather than my therapist. My therapist sessions have been going well, but it was so good to see him, too.
I roll on my side and look at my phone that’s on the nightstand. The last time I lay in a hotel room bed like this and thought of Ferdinand like this, I called him.
This time, I don’t.
I sigh and roll back to face the ceiling. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I am all right, I think to myself, my mantra. This is what I want.
I will say that the biggest regret of my life is running up to Ferdinand and telling him to leave me alone. I should have thought about us more. I should have done something different.
I open my eyes, and I’m alone in this bed again.
And that’s apparently how it’s going to be.
25
Alexandra
Sachiko looks stunning as a bride. Her kimono—a shiromoku, as she told me—is all white with ornate details on the fabric, and she wears a beautiful headpiece. Her husband-to-be Mamoru looks dashing in his black kimono, and he welcomed me before the ceremony began. Everything he does includes her, like she’s an extension of him. And when they look at each other, I can tell that they genuinely love each other.
I was never like that with James. We were considered a power couple, sure, but I don’t think James ever looked at me the way that Mamoru is looking at Sachiko now.
There was someone who did look at you that way, though.
I banish him from my thoughts as the ceremony commences. Because I’m an outsider, I try to hang out around the fringes of the ceremony but take in everything that I can. It’s like I’m getting an insight into something truly special.
I smooth out my green dress underneath the palms of my hands, and I hold my head up straight to watch as Sachiko and Mamoru drink sake from three different cups and then invite their families to join in. I did some research, and it’s called exchanging cups.
Or their vows.
I watch the ceremony, feeling my throat constrict, because this is beautiful. This is the joining of two families, two lives, two hearts, two destinies.
Maybe I expected feeling this emotional at the wedding. My therapist did say that it would be good for me, but I just hadn’t expected to feel...this…
Like I’ve been missing a piece of myself for a long time.
Tears spring in my eyes, and I try to brush them away before they fall. A few escape, though.
When Sachiko rises, her smile is both demure and brilliant, and she meets my eyes. I smile back, managing to somehow feel happy for her and so sad for me.
Next, the newlyweds walk the ground of Zojoji Temple. I spot a few tourists on the fringes that sneak in a few photographs of Sachiko and some give the new couple their best wishes.
It’s as though I’m peering into another what-if with Ferdinand.
I need air. I step away from the procession, knowing that Sachiko won’t even notice, as she’s too busy living this moment, and I don’t want to ruin it with my tears.
I somehow end up at the row of Jizo statues. Of course. If I wasn’t crying before, I am now, as I look at the rows of little statues that commemorate the children who were lost. I press my lips together as I look at the little red knit capes and hats, some more pristine than others as they’re better kept up by their parents. The little statue that I put here to commemorate my daughter must look terrible now after three months of rain and weather. I wonder if other parents will see my statue and wonder who has neglected it.
I put t
he statue up for closure, but maybe this was a bad idea from the get-go.
And then I stop at what I think is my statue, and… the cape and hat are brand-new. But...that should look at least a little weathered, right? Did a priest or a worker replace it? I look back down the way I came, seeing other temple visitors snapping photos. I don’t think so.
So who did?
“I gave her new clothes,” a familiar voice says behind me. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Startled, I turn around, and Ferdinand is standing here next to me. Impossible.
“What are you doing here?” I manage, voicing my thoughts out loud.
“I came to see you. And to honor our daughter.” He nods to the Jizo statue behind me.
He looks as good as ever, wearing a button-down shirt and a pair of trousers, a slight scruff on his face, not from lack of shaving, but stylishly so. He has his hands in his pockets and appears ill at ease as he watches me, like I’m a flight risk.
He gives me a small smile. “Hi, Lex.”
We stare at each other some more and my heartbeat is somehow in my ears. Even though he’s a few paces away from me, I can almost imagine the heat of his body by me. His presence so close to me. And my body is instantly on alert.
“How are you here?” I ask, still dumbfounded.
A smile plays about his lips. “Sachiko called me. She invited me.”
“To the wedding?”
He nods.
“Did you know that I was going to be here?”
“Yes.” He drags a hand through his hair as he averts his gaze. “I almost didn’t come. In case you hated me, but…” He looks up again, his face unreadable. “I couldn’t stay away knowing you’d be here. Not when you had broken it off with James. Not without trying for us one last time.”
My stomach flipflops. “Trying what?”
“To see if I could get a third chance with you. I ruined our second chance.” He reaches out and places a strand of hair behind my ear, and I shiver. Not from the cold, but from how cold I suddenly feel and how warm he is. His brown eyes are searing into me.
I swallow thickly. “And I ruined our first chance.”
“No, no you didn’t.” His warm voice wraps around me. “You didn’t ruin it, Lex. You did what you had to do. But if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past fifteen years, it’s that I’ve never stopped loving you. And I know that I’m not perfect and that we have a lot to overcome, but...” He searches my face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy without you.”
My bottom lip trembles. “Ferdie…”
“And I don’t want to start over with you,” he says. “Because what happened in the past makes us who we are. But I would like to start a new future with you. If you’ll have me.”
He waits for my reply, and I’m so shocked, I don’t respond for a long moment. I’m turning this moment over and over in my head, trying to reconcile with the fact that he’s here. My Ferdinand is here.
“You flew all the way here? On the chance that we could start again?”
“Yes. I am a billionaire prince after all.” He grins. “I can afford to take a chance.”
I laugh despite myself.
Everything suddenly seems watery, and I realize that tears are falling. He reaches out and brushes them aside with his thumb. I move in closer to him, and he gently puts his arms around me. I’d forgotten how good this felt. It’s the first time he’s held me like this since we were together.
“During the wedding,” I say as I bury my face into his shoulder, “I couldn’t stop thinking.”
“About what?” he murmurs, his breath so close, I can feel it on my skin.
I turn to look at him, our eyes meeting. “I couldn’t stop wishing that you were here at my side.”
Whatever restraint he had breaks away in this moment, and he leans forward to brush his lips against mine. Our first kiss in fifteen years. I forgot how his kisses make me feel.
Safe.
Invincible.
A part of a bigger whole.
His.
The heat ignites between us as his tongue enters my mouth and he cups my cheeks. I moan against him, clinging on for dear life.
This kiss has undone us, unmade us, and put us back together. And I know, deep in my soul, that everything I ever wanted is in his kiss.
“Are you all right?” he whispers as he puts his forehead against mine.
“Can we go somewhere?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
But he heard me, and his eyes smolder. “Yes.”
While still holding my hand, Ferdinand hails a taxi. One pulls over to the curb, and we get inside. Suddenly, it does hit me that we're leaving Sachiko's wedding. To be alone together. With all pretenses off.
There's something wonderful and terrifying about that prospect.
My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears, I don't really hear the exchange between Ferdinand and the driver. Not until he turns to me, his eyebrows lifted in question.
"Where do you want to go?" he asks. I think I hear a tinge of nerves in his voice.
My decision. He's leaving it to me to decide where we take this next.
I lick my lips, which are still tingling from our kiss. The first kiss that we've had in fifteen years.
"My hotel," I say, my voice hoarse. Ferdinand's face breaks into a wide smile, and I find that I can say more. "The Shangri-La hotel." I lean forward. "Take us to the Shangri-La in Marunouchi."
The driver gives a curt nod and pulls the car away from the curb. Away from the wedding. Away from Zojoji temple.
And I get the sense that we're heading toward my future.
For a long moment, Ferdinand and I are apart, on opposite ends of the back seat. I'm too afraid to meet his eyes and look at him, in case the thoughts that I have aren't in line with what he's thinking. I look down at my hand braced against the leather of the back seat and it's still a few inches from his hand.
"Lex," he says, drawing my gaze up to meet his.
And my heart shudders to a halt in that span of a few seconds.
"Ferdie?" I whisper back to him.
He watches me silently before finally asking, "Are you okay with this?"
I consider his question for a long moment. "Yes. I think I'm better than I have been for a long time. Ever since," I let out a breath, "since before we lost our baby."
His eyes are molten as he looks into my soul, asking me for permission. After everything we've been through, as children, as lovestruck teenagers, and as broken adults, I hope he knows that he doesn't have to ask that question.
That he knows that I'm his.
I give a slight nod, giving him that permission.
And then, as if he can't hold it back anymore, he rushes forward, crossing the space between us, to press me up against the door of the taxi, my body parallel to the back seat. His hand is on my cheek, his lips are on mine, and his tongue sweeps my mouth, owning me. Possessing me.
Just like I've always wanted him to do.
"You taste just the same," he says, our lips parting. He puts his forehead against mine. Is he panting? Or is that just me?
"And what does that mean?" I tease back.
He parts my legs, so easy to do as I'm wearing my dress, and pushes his hips against me. I arch my head back at the contact, because there's so much tulle between us, and my panties are completely soaked. A moan escapes my lips. "Ferdie..."
He thrusts his hips against me again, earning another moan. I have way too much clothing for this.
I swallow thickly. "There's a taxi driver watching us," I remind him. I glance toward the front of the taxi, and the driver doesn't seem to notice what we're doing.
Ferdinand snickers softly. "That didn't stop us before."
I feel myself flush and heat at the memory of what we did when we were first in Japan. We were so brazen, weren't we? I chuckle at the thought as he leans forward and kisses me. "I’ve wanted you so badly over the years,” he whispers against my lips. “You don’t
know how many times I’ve laid in bed and wished it were you next to me. You don’t know how much I missed you.”
My eyes flutter closed, and I lean against him, sighing into those soft lips that elicit so many memories from so long ago. I remember those lips whispering prayers into my virgin skin, how he had made me feel things I never felt before.
Things I have never felt with anyone since then.
“The memory of you was the only thing that got me through my darkest times,” he tells me. “When I was in Afghanistan, I would write to you. When I lay awake at night, you were what I hoped to dream about.” He swallows, almost self-consciously. “Because everything since you’ve been gone has been a nightmare for me.”
"It's been a nightmare for me, too," I whisper. "And I feel like I haven't been able to wake up from it."
His eyes are half-lidded as he regards me. "And now?"
In response, I lock my ankles around his back. "And now I feel like I'm dreaming."
He presses himself against me again. "Me too." His fingers trail up my bare thighs underneath my dress and hooks underneath my panties and pulls them down. "Just like this feels like a dream. And," he shimmies them down farther, "it feels like you're wearing too many clothes."
I lick my lips, too turned on to trust myself to speak, and he briefly unlocks my legs and puts them together to take my panties completely off. "These are mine," he mutters grimly as he holds up my panties with one finger. I so wish I had worn something other than my comfortable cotton panties for the wedding. Then again, I hadn't expected that Ferdinand would be here. I hadn't expected to be in this position.
And I certainly hadn't planned on being in this position with Ferdie looking at me like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. I smile and fight back a chuckle, and he grins at me as well, like he's reading my mind.
We both feel the car slow, and turn our heads at the same time. I recognize the Shangri-La beyond the car windows. Shit, we're almost to the hotel, and in a precarious position. I know that if we get to the curb and the doorman opens the door, well...
