As my phone rings yet again, suddenly a horrifying thought pierces through the walls of my numbness. What if it’s an emergency? My heart flutters, awakening from its grief induced sleep. He has nobody, no family. What if he’s been in an accident? Immediately I take my phone, camera and bag, and run up the stairs to the quietness of the street. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to Jesse and I had just ignored him. After all, even if he doesn’t love me, he still found it in his hardened heart to be there for me and my family after my accident.
And I love him.
As much as I hate him, I love him and I would look after him despite the pain it would cause me to be so near to him and yet so far.
My camera has already been put away and my phone is at my ear, calling him back, by the time I make it outside. His heavenly voice shocks me before I’ve even registered that the phone is ringing.
“Mickey.” He’s breathy with what I think is relief.
“What’s happened? Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to hide the panic in my wavering voice.
“No, everything is not okay. I need to see you.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Somewhat.”
Slightly annoyed at his obtuseness I continue to dig. “Have you been in an accident? Are you physically hurt, Jesse?”
“No, of course not.”
I sigh, relieved. My respite at being informed of his safety is short-lived as I realize I have opened up the line to my heart and Jesse is clawing his way back in. The adrenaline from my overwhelming fear and concern leaves me and consequently my legs return to their jelly-like state. I lean against the outside wall of The Cellars and sink to the floor, resting my head against my knees as I steady my breathing and nerves.
“Please come and see me,” he murmurs, quietly. “I have so much I need to say to you and I really don’t want to say it over the phone.”
The numbness is fading like morning fog and as much as I’ve despised it lately I am now praying for it to sustain its hold. I want to pretend that I am unaffected by him and feel nothing. I want to hate him, but the harmony of his voice sings to me and lure’s me in like the pied piper.
“I’m working, Jesse. I can’t do this now.”
“You’re working? Where?”
“The Cellars. Why?” I hear his breath quicken down the phone and the line crackle with what? Wind? “I mean, I’m hardly going to drive all the way into the city to hear you out. I tried that once and it didn’t work out, remember?” I remark, snidely.
“I’m not in New York. I’m In Starling.”
I look up, sharply, scanning the street expecting him to jump out and shout Surprise! Is he joking? “Where are you?”
“Here, Mickey.”
I’m instantly drawn to a tall figure jogging lightly down the sidewalk towards me. I’m only certain that it’s Jesse when the dim light of the streetlamp reveals him. The adrenaline returns with a vengeance at the sight of him. My knotted arms unwind from beneath my knees as I feel the need to stand and straighten up in order to channel the electricity that courses through my body.
Without liberating my eyes from his I hang up the phone and watch him do the same. He’s slowed to a walk and I allow myself to appreciate how good he looks, from a distance at least. Wearing his gray flannel pants and a white shirt that has been rolled up at the sleeves, he looks like he’s spent all day at work. His stance is withered, counteracting his height and broadness. My memories have failed him, again. I remembered him as a glorious sunset, when in reality he is the panoramic New York skyline that graces his apartment. Or perhaps, heaven. Yes. This is what heaven looks like.
Without consciously instructing them, my legs guide me over the remaining distance between us. He smiles at me as I stand before him but it’s a broken smile. It fails to reach his tense eyes and it ends much too quickly.
“Hi,” he mouths, but barely a whisper exits his sculpted lips. He’s panting a little. Where has he run from? “How are you?”
I scoff at the nonchalance of his question. “What are you doing here?”
Taking a step closer he reaches his hand to skim over the bare skin of my arm but his touch feels like a burn and I pull away. Having to look and listen to him when I can’t have him is difficult enough without having to be reminded of the effect his physical contact has on me. I can see it hurts him to see me recoil away from him, but I struggle to care.
“I have made the biggest mistake of my life for the second time and I am here to beg for your forgiveness, again, and pray that you will still let me be a part of your life.”
The sincerity behind his words is disarming. The tension in my body begins to wilt and I have to remind myself aggressively that his words have fooled me many times before. He has confessed his love to me on several different occasions and yet he never meant a word of them. Why should I believe him now? He’s probably just struggling with hurting me. Beneath it all he is a good man who just feels responsible.
“Are you here because you feel guilty?” I ask. He steps closer and begins to speak but I continue. “You should feel guilty, but that shouldn’t be the reason behind your being here.” My voice is betraying. It sounds confident and angered. Only I know of the extra effort that I have to exercise simply to stop myself from falling to his feet.
“That’s only a small part of why I’m here.” I raise my eyebrows expectantly, permitting him to speak even when I can’t bear to hear his lies. “I was a fool to think I could selflessly leave you to have a better life. I don’t know how I ever imagined I could be apart from you again. It almost killed me the first time, but this time…I may as well have been in hell. Mickey, I am sorry. I’m so sorry. Sorry is too small a word for how regretful, remorseful and damn shitty I feel for my behavior.”
He takes my hands in his and I have neither the speed nor the strength to pull away. In truth, with his hands around mine, I feel better, I feel safe, I feel home.
In my head I’m reminded of all the reasons that I should leave this second. His faults are advertised like billboards across my psyche, but I’m losing the strength to fight. Whether his words speak sense or not, being in his company, smelling his scent and feeling his power around my hands, is enough to cause me to hand my soul over to him for the third time and sign on the dotted line.
This is dangerous. I can’t fall again.
“You said you didn’t want me, Jesse. Everything was a lie. I can’t keep going through this. How can I ever trust you again?”
“I only said I didn’t want you because I needed you to go. I honestly believed you’d be happier without me.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“Yes,” he admits. “But I’m too selfish to allow it.”
I shake my head in frustration. “How could you think I’d be happier without you? Have I not shown you what you mean to me? Have I not told you every day that I love you?”
“I know. I accept your love, and I return it a million times…”
“But?”
“But…Benjamin. I know that he’d be happier with his real dad, not a wannabe…” I cut him off, my fingers hovering over his parted mouth, but I can’t bring myself to touch them.
“Benji has been lost without you. He mentions you every day, several times a day. He doesn’t care who his real dad is. You’re so important to him. He doesn’t need your name on his birth certificate to tell him that. I know that Sebastian being around is going to be confusing for him, but that’s all the more reason for you to be there. Be the permanent in his life. Can’t we all just be thankful that Benji is lucky enough to have so many people around to love him?”
Steely blue eyes gloss over with unshed tears and to witness his pain is my undoing. I allow countless day’s worth of my own tears to cascade down my cheeks. Upon seeing this, Jesse pulls me into a much needed embrace. One hand pins my lower back close to him and the other supports my head against his firm chest. My own fingers tug at his shirt and cla
w at his skin, rejoicing at the feel of him beneath my touch again.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of him living through what I did, hating me the way that I hated Dale,” he sniffs.
“I know, I know. But it’s just stupid to compare the two. Do you see that? He loves you. We love you. I love you, so much. Can’t you see that?”
He nods into my hair and holds me impossibly close. I feel partially suffocated but I daren’t tell him. I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime to be in these arms once more.
“I love you both, too. I love you, so much.”
We enjoy a shared silence. Our tender embrace remains as we reacquaint ourselves with how it feels to be in each other’s arms. I allow his warmth to cleanse my mind, ridding all questions bar one.
“What made you change your mind?” I whisper into his chest.
“You fought for me. More than anyone ever has.”
“But you still told me to go.”
“I was drunk. Unbelievably drunk. Drunk on booze, drunk on misery. I think I’ve actually been drunk the entire time.”
I nod in understanding. Been there.
“I can’t believe I was such an ass to you, Mickey. I was convinced I was doing the right thing, and then you left and the hurt on your face…you hated me. It killed me to see that I’d made you hate me. But, maybe it was what I needed. I will never again make you hate me. I promise.” He pulls away to look me in the eyes and implant his pledge deep within my gut.
I resist, mildly. “I don’t know if I can believe you. I want to…but promises have already been broken.” I stroke the stubble that dusts his jaw. I don’t mean for my words to be painful, but he has to know that I can’t just believe him simply because he has said to do so. “You said you’d never leave me, but you did. You could leave me again. The moment things get a little intense you run away. I need stability, Jesse. Not just for me, but for Benji. I have to work out whether the threat of you leaving me again is worth more grief.”
Just the thought of being without these strong arms once again opens the door to my depression and I have to swallow through the sobs that loiter in my throat.
“I won’t ever leave you. You have no reason to believe me, I know. Not yet. I have a lifetime of making up to do, but I’d really appreciate the chance to try. Please let me try,” he begs. Sensing my weakness, he mirrors my hand against his face and coerces me closer. His lips linger over mine as he requests permission to kiss me. I look into his burning eyes and the connection between us ignites once more. How can I possibly refuse?
His mouth is tender as it embraces mine, as if he fears for my fragility. Our lips are wet from tears that still course down my blushed cheeks and I can taste the salt. Salt and Jesse. I’ve missed him so much. And, he no longer tastes like tobacco and booze, but of memories, so many memories. His hands continue to cup my face, holding me firm so that I can never pull away. I won’t. I can’t. He is the flight risk, not me. I am powerless to his ability to control me, to control my senses. I am weightless in response to him, floating within his grasp, until he lets go and smiles a big smile. I completely relax in its authenticity.
Dropping his hands to find mine, he steps back a little. Eyeing me up and down regarding me worriedly. “You’re too skinny. You haven’t been eating breakfast.” He tries for lighthearted but his concern is evident.
“I haven’t eaten much at all. I’ve drunk quite a bit though.” I smile sweetly but his brow furrows.
“Have you drunk a lot tonight?”
“Just one. Why?” I reply, feeling defensive all of a sudden.
“Because I want to know that what is about to happen is going to be remembered, and that any decisions you make tonight aren’t because you’re inebriated.”
I squint slightly, regarding him inquisitively. “What’s about to happen?”
“Come with me.” He orders and guides me down the road to which he came from.
I notice the smell before I notice anything else. If I were without sight I would assume I was walking towards a wild meadow rather than a rickety old footbridge. The air is filled with a sweet perfume and it has a heady effect on me. Jesse is smiling nervously as he leads me off the parking lot and onto the wooden slats of the bridge.
The floor is a long carpet of lilac petals that hide the sound of our footsteps as Jesse guides me into the arched centre. The bridge has been transformed into a fantastical, romantic haven. A rich chorus of blues and purples dance across the entire structure, transforming it into something akin to a Midsummer Night’s Dream back-drop. Floral ropes entwine themselves around the wooden posts and further blooms sit on top of the fencing. Between each arrangement are flickering lanterns that assist in the stars objective to cast light on this most precious scene. Each light reflects a million times over in the waltzing water below, creating a surreal aspect to the night.
I am literally stood within an explosion of flowers. No, to describe them as an explosion gives the impression that they’ve been scattered chaotically. The wonder that is before me has been meticulously, lovingly and artistically laid.
As if this bridge didn’t hold enough sentimentality, it is now weighed down with the magnitude of this gesture. He needn’t have gone through so much trouble, especially when I have already agreed to give us another chance. Is he trying to remind me of our history? Does he really think I could forget everything that binds us together? This bridge is the perfect metaphor for our relationship, both then and now. A transition between two places. A connection between two people. It’s representative of a journey. A journey of which I believe we have explored the worst. Has he brought me here because he understands that too?
Playing softly in the background is our song. From where, I don’t know, but as Alex Band of The Calling croons his way through the significant words I brace myself for what has the potential to be another life changing night.
Jesse watches me intently, stood a little away from me as he allows me to take in this spectacle. His eyes scan me in anticipation of a response, but I am stunned into silence. All I can do is look right back at him and smile. My eyes are once again filled with tears, but for the first time, in a very long while, they fall from happiness rather than sorrow.
Tonight has seen me through several seasons of emotions. I have gone from thinking that my life was all but over to wondering if it ever really began. I’ve never appreciated overtly romantic gestures. I prefer to dwell on the little things. But, this is a moment full of a million little things. I’m overwhelmed by it all, by his return, by his promises, and now this.
Unable to cry anymore, I offer a bellowing laugh that echoes richly in the silent night around us. It escapes my lips unpredicted and my hands fly to my mouth in an attempt to curtail the noise.
Jesse steps closer, his hands behind his back and a grin teasing his lips. He stops in front of me and chuckles confusedly with my continuing giggles. “What’s so funny? Funny wasn’t exactly my intention.”
“You are! This is crazy!” I manage as my laughter lessens to a light chuckle.
“I have been crazy. Believe me when I say that my first few ideas were even more extravagant, and some actually dangerous.”
I laugh again, totally believing him.
“You’re breathtaking. Just stunning,” he croons, stepping closer still and kissing me sweetly on the cheek.
“Compared to all of this? Are you blind?” I scoff. “I should be dressed in some gorgeous, bohemian dress, not my skinny’s and boots.”
“I love your skinny’s and boots. You look amazing, especially when you laugh.”
“Carry on like that and you’ll leave me no other choice but to get you mentally assessed. How did you even do this?”
“With great difficulty and a lot of help.” He shrugs.
“Why so much effort? I don’t need all of this fanciness, Jesse, just a promise that I can believe in.”
“And that’s exactly what this is about,” he replies, his voice low and
brimming with intent. From behind his back he reveals more flowers; a thin sprig of colorful forget-me-nots. They’re tied together with silver string, looking perfectly dainty and sweet. I love the gesture and it’s evident in my teary smile. I take them from him, blushing lightly at the focus that now falls on me. I finger the tiny petals, barely able to feel them they are so delicate. As I toy with the ribbon I feel something hard encased in the knot. I glance instinctively. Within the loop of the bow I find a silver ring. Grasping it between my fingers I turn it over, still imagining that it’s some kind of decoration.
Jesse introduces his own trembling fingers into the inspection. He unties the elaborate bow and catches the silver ring as it slides free. He hands it to me and I stare in awe. It’s so shiny, almost white with shine. I have no silver that looks this good. Because…it’s not silver, it dawns on me that it’s platinum. A simple band lends itself to the bloom that sits on top. A huge diamond is embedded into a nest of intricate platinum leaves. The rich detail is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It’s unique. This isn’t a regular ring. This is a…
When my eyes manage to escape the allure of the ring I look at Jesse. He’s kneeling on the floor beside me, his eyes honed in on mine and his hand requesting my own, which I give him, immediately. My stomach drops in anticipation and my heart pounds madly in preparation for what it is about to endure.
“Third time lucky, huh?” he jokes, but he doesn’t smile. He’s far too intense to smile. “But, this time it’s official. You have the ring, along with my promise, my love, and my heart. You own me in every way.” He takes the ring from my grasp and teases the tip of my finger. “I’ve made you and Benji promises before and broken them. I know this. But if you can find it in your heart to agree to be my wife and allow me to be a part of your family once more, then I can begin a lifetimes worth of making it up to you both.”
Forget Me Not Page 33
