The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  “Cisely,” Jessica says, interrupting my thoughts, almost reading them, “you still have a very long life ahead of you, too long a life to spend alone. And I don’t think Ingo would want that for you. You aren’t meant to be alone. I know it has only been a short while since Ingo died and you need to do what is best for you, but you also need to remember time is irrelevant when the feelings are there. You thought you could never be happy again, that you would never find love again, but it’s right in front of you, Cisely. You are being given a second chance.”

  “But what if I don’t want a second chance?” I blurt out. “What if . . . Jessica, what if I took it and ended up loving Adagio more?”

  “What if you do grow to love him more? Is that so wrong?” She sighs. “Cisely, I loved my nephew more than I could ever tell you, and I'm grateful for the happiness you brought to him, but he is gone now and your life is still going on. Don’t turn your back on this chance because of fear. If you search your heart, you will see I am right.”

  Rubbing my temples, I take a moment to digest what Jessica is saying. I am so torn. And confused. And guilt-riddled. I've been fighting this so hard, I am almost afraid to stop because if I do, I'll completely lose my heart. Truthfully, I already have, but I don’t know if I'm ready for the next step, whatever it might be.

  We talk for a few minutes more, or rather Jessica talks and I listen. She looks at her watch.

  “I’m going up to get ready, but if you need to talk some more, I can go in a little later.”

  I shake my head, my mind going in a thousand different directions. “You have given me a lot to think about. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, dear, anytime.”

  Transferring a load of laundry to the dryer, I put another batch in the washer. Adagio is late and I am glad. I need time to adjust my thoughts and get a handle on my feelings. He hasn’t called and I'm glad for this as well, because right now even hearing his voice would be too much. The whole conversation with Jessica has left me unsettled and confused.

  Stretching, I rub the dull ache in my back and stomach. I climb the stairs to my room and spend some time pondering what I should do about my feelings for Adagio. I can't help thinking it's somehow wrong for me to care for him romantically, or anyone else for that matter. But each time I try to come up with excuses, Jessica’s words reenter my mind and hammer away at my heart. After an hour I am still confused and don’t know what to do about it.

  I finally head back downstairs. Standing in front of the large living room window, I gaze out over the city. It is one of my favorite past-times because the view is so pretty and it's easy to think here, which is something I have been doing a lot of lately. Focusing on a small group of pigeons congregating on the front lawn, I try to clear my mind in the hope of gaining some clarity, but almost immediately, thoughts of Adagio rush in with such force, I don’t try to fight them this time. I don't have the strength to anymore.

  I have studied him so much when he isn’t looking, his face and features are etched in my memory. Without a doubt, he is a very beautiful man, both inside and out. Taking a long moment, I allow my thoughts to run free.

  Heat slowly fills me as I think of the warmth of his muscular embrace. I've begun to crave his arms around me. Whenever he is near, I fight the urge to run my fingers through that dark wavy hair of his. It looks perfectly tousled and neat at the same time. He is definitely male model material, and that he is so oblivious to it makes him even more beautiful. There is nothing shallow about him, and no matter how many women gawk at him when we are out and about, his attention is always centered on me.

  There is a soothing tone to his heavily accented voice, and I especially love hearing him call me ‘angel.’ I love the scent of his cologne, the way it mixes with his body chemistry. He smells so good, I want to curl up into him sometimes and never move. The deep dimples that appear on his cheeks when he smiles make me long to reach out and touch his face. And when he looks at me with those emerald eyes, it's like he can see through to my very soul and I long to lose myself in his gaze.

  Closing my own eyes, I see his mouth. His lips are full and look as if they are begging to be kissed. Thinking about them now makes my mouth suddenly ache with longing for the touch of his.

  Everything about him is familiar to me now–the warmth of his smile, the openness of his gaze. I love the way his handsome brow furrows when he is deep in thought, the way he pushes a hand through his hair and stands with a look of puzzlement on his face when he is looking for something he’s misplaced, then mumbles in Italian while he searches. Everything about him is alluring. He has a magnetism that emanates and stirs my entire being. My emotions go into overload when he is near. Sometimes all he has to do is look at me and I have to leave the room to calm my racing heart. I wonder if he has any idea how his mere presence affects me. I can't believe how much I have come to care for him.

  Each and every day, my mind reasons that it shouldn't be this way, that it isn't right for me to feel this way so soon, if ever. But to my heart, it is almost natural, and that alone is confusing.

  He was my husband’s best friend, for heaven’s sake! How can this be happening? How have I allowed my emotions to go this far?

  Deep down, I know the answer to these questions. It is because Adagio has been here. He has always been here. How can I not have feelings for him? It should all feel so wrong.

  But it doesn't.

  Pressing my forehead against the window, I continue to ponder my feelings when a sudden recollection dawns on me. Turning toward the doorway of the living room, my mind shoots back to the day Adagio stood staring at me while I was in this very spot. I didn’t allow myself to admit it then, but the look in his eyes stirred me so, it nearly took my breath away. Not until Jessica approached was I able to pull my eyes away from his, and even then I still felt his gaze on me. I had tried to tell myself the way he looked at me hadn't meant anything, that what I saw in his eyes was . . .

  I can't even think of an excuse because I know what I saw in his eyes that day. They held a look of longing, a look of . . .

  Wow! Jessica was right. It really has been there the entire time, clearly exposed for the world to see.

  My resistance fading, I allow my heart to open, tears stinging my eyes as another simple truth dawns on me; I had felt the same emotions I saw in his eyes that day, and I have everyday since.

  I do love him. Pressing my face in my hands, I sigh deeply, finally accepting what my heart has been trying to tell me.

  I can't believe this is happening to me.

  “Oh, Ingo,” I whisper brokenly, “I'm in love with him. I didn't mean for it to happen. I tried not to love him, but I can't help it.” Now what do I do? Where do I go from here?

  Standing a while longer contemplating my feelings, my breath catches. Like a movie screen appearing before my eyes, I see the dream I had before leaving North Carolina. The memory of the little boy's words bring a startling realization to light.

  “This is what you meant, isn't it?”

  As a rich warmth fills my entire being, I know it is true. There is not a doubt in my mind and I am amazed. My attempts to close myself to love have all been futile. I can no longer deny what I feel, nor will I even try. And now that I've finally accepted my love for Adagio, I can only hope he truly shares my feelings. This whole thing scares me to death and I don't think my heart can handle being alone in this.

  Adagio's step is a little lighter as he exits his hotel room. It is well past noon and he is late going to Cisely’s, but it couldn’t be helped. He had needed this time away from her. He'd spent most of the morning, as well as last night going over his feelings. He’s tried for weeks to fight them, but he can’t anymore because it has become impossible.

  He is deeply in love with Cisely.

  He loves her like he never thought he would be able to love anyone. It is a desperate kind of love, the kind that people talk about, but he had never experienced himself.

  Adagio
knows Cisely will always love Ingo and a part of her will miss him, but surely she can make room in her heart for someone else–that someone being himself. Surely he has a chance. What he feels for her completely fills the emptiness in him. He will forever think of Ingo and treasure the friendship they shared, but he knows Ingo would never deny him this chance at happiness.

  Warmth flows over him, through him, validating that his love for Cisely is right. It came to him only moments ago that Cisely is the gift his mother had spoken of. As he thinks about it now, the warmth increases, again telling him this is the way things are meant to be.

  He needs to tell Cisely how he feels, and he hopes wherever Ingo is, he really understands. Somewhere in his heart, Adagio is sure he does, and maybe even wants this.

  Thirty-three

  Adagio stops by Gary and Tara’s to drop off his cannelloni recipe Tara wants to make the dish for her husband. He finds her in the back yard, wearing a wide brimmed straw hat and gloves, trimming a large rose bush.

  “I really appreciate this, Adagio,” she says, taking the card from him. Looking over the ingredients a moment, she slips it into her shirt pocket.

  “It's no trouble at all. I hope Gary likes it.” “Well, since it’s your recipe, I know he will, providing I get it right.”

  “I am sure it will turn out great.”

  Tara takes in Adagio’s countenance, noticing the brightness in his eyes.

  “You've decided, haven’t you? About Cisely, I mean.”

  Adagio is taken aback by her perceptiveness. “Yes, I have. But how did you know?”

  She chuckles. “It's not very hard to figure out. I only have to look at your face and it’s obvious. I can tell Cisely cares a great deal for you, too. I can see it in her eyes every time you two are together. It's in her voice whenever we talk about you during our visits. I think she holds back a lot because she is afraid, but it's there in her every action.” She pauses, smiling. “Gary and I talk about you a lot, and we’ve prayed that you would find the person you are meant to be with. And personally, I think Ingo would be happy to know his best friend has found happiness with the woman he loved so much. You two already spend so much time together, Cisely has probably come to depend on the comfort and security she gets from you. If you left, it would break her heart. You need each other.”

  Adagio smiles, thinking about Cisely being a permanent part of his life. It is soon and the emotions churning inside him are still fairly new, but his love for her runs deep, and right now he wants that permanence more than anything. It will bring him the happiness he has longed for.

  “I hope you are right. I don't think I realized just how much I love her until now. Maybe it's because I have tried so hard not to for fear of hurting my relationship with her and betraying Ingo. As a matter of fact, it has taken so much out of me, I am exhausted.”

  “Then it’s time to stop fighting and just accept that it’s meant to be.”

  “It is time,” he agrees, and now that he has accepted it, he can’t get to Cisely fast enough. He kisses Tara’s cheek. “Thank you for listening, and for your insight.”

  She chuckles. “You're welcome.”

  “I had better get going. I have a stop to make on the way to Cisely’s.”

  “Good luck,” she calls after him.

  Thirty-four

  I am so nervous I can hardly breathe. I usually anticipate Adagio’s arrival, but today is different because I'm finally admitting what I feel.

  I am in love with Adagio St. John.

  I didn't think I would ever fall in love again. I didn't want to, but I have. And now that I have accepted it, the feelings have only increased. The thought of opening up to him scares me a little–okay, a lot, but I will no longer deny my heart what it wants–what it needs. I won't try to compare my feelings for him to what I felt for Ingo because my heart only knows one way to love, and that is fully. I pray that Adagio feels the same, and right now I am in agony waiting for him.

  I could call him . . . but what would I say? I release a nervous laugh. I’ve seen him every day for the past three and a half months and suddenly I can’t come up with anything to say. Get a grip, girl! Standing by the living room window, I wait anxiously.

  When Adagio finally pulls up, my heart starts pounding so hard, I grow light-headed. Moving away from the window, I take a calming breath, my fear growing the closer he gets to the door.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Sitting in the car for another moment, Adagio tries to calm his racing heart and get a grip on his emotions. For years, he has wondered if he would ever feel this way about a woman. He hadn’t known if it would ever happen, or that he would ever experience emotions so strong.

  Adagio wants this to work out so badly, and it hurts to think of Cisely rejecting his affections. He needs her with an intensity he never thought possible. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and gets out of the car.

  When Adagio knocks, I take a moment to compose myself. I am about to cross a line that both excites and frightens me. Once I take that step, I can never go back. Nor do I want to.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  “Please don't let me ruin this,” I murmur before opening the door. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” He looks amazing in a beige polo and jeans, his hair tousled, muscular arms lightly tanned. But then again he always does. And I look . . . I look big.

  Shyly dropping my gaze, I move aside, letting him in. “You must have been pretty busy this morning,” I comment in a steady voice, wondering what took him so long, yet glad that it had.

  He closes the door. “I had some things I needed to take care of. I wanted to spend the whole day with you, and I didn't want anything to interrupt. I hope that is all right.”

  His words catch me by joyful surprise. “It’s more than all right.” My gaze locks intently with his, and I don't try to disguise the longing anymore, but I still have to remind myself to breathe because my heart is racing like crazy.

  Moving closer, he presses a hand to my cheek, caressing it softly. He has touched me many times, but never like this.

  Keeping my gaze riveted to his, I soak in the warmth of his hand. His face is so close to mine, I can smell his cologne, and the warmth of his breath on my skin is indescribably intoxicating. through me. I shiver as a heady wave of emotion surges

  His eyes roam over my face for a moment and I imagine him taking in my every feature–my brown skin, my full mouth, and my emotion-filled eyes. I hope he can read in them what I have yet to say. What a curiously-vulnerable situation I find myself in–longing to know how he really feels, but too afraid to reveal my own heart. His next words change all that.

  “Cisely, your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me.” Moving back a little, he takes my hands, lacing his fingers between mine. “I never expected this to happen. This is soon, and out of respect for Ingo, I have tried to wait, but I can no longer keep my feelings hidden.” Tightening his fingers slightly, he draws me closer until we are almost touching. “I am in love with you, Cisely.”

  Fully absorbing his words, I release a shaky breath, ready to bare my soul.

  “And I am in love with you.”

  Smiling, he gently captures my face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over my skin. I marvel at the words and feelings that have just passed between us. Reverently caressing my face, he softly brushes a thumb across my lips before lowering his head and pressing his mouth to mine.

  Adagio's insides quiver at the softness of her lips and the sweetness of her kiss. It is new, yet familiar somehow. As her warm mouth softens under his, anxiously answering his heated affections, he finds that kissing her is so perfect, he wants to cry. He has never experienced so much from a single kiss, and he never will again with anyone but her.

  Tears slip down my cheeks as I relish the feel of his moist mouth plying mine. His kiss is warm and demanding, producing emotions that stir my very soul. I never imagined feeling so much from a kiss. Moaning softly
at the feel of his tongue dancing over mine, I circle my arms around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to be wrapped in his warmth. The emotional rush is staggering, and in this moment, I know I belong in his arms. The haven of his love is now all that exists.

  Adagio parts his lips from mine and I press my face in the hollow of his neck. Sighing contentedly, he holds me close, and I lose myself in his warmth. For a while now, we have denied ourselves emotions that can’t be helped by either of us. We've spent so much time together during the past three and a half months, the feelings that have grown between us were inevitable. Now there is no more denial, only acceptance.

  Adagio draws back slightly, lifting my chin with his finger. “Do you really love me?”

  “I really do.”

  “You do?”

  Smiling, I nudge him playfully. “I do.”

  “Slow down, we haven't even gotten to that part yet.”

  “Adagio!”

  Laughing, he touches his lip to mine whispering, “I have something to ask you, amore.”

  “Okay.”

  “Would you mind if we sat out on the porch swing?”

  “Not at all.”

  There is a mild breeze as we step outside. It tousles his already tousled hair, making it look wildly perfect. Taking my hand, he rocks the swing gently. “I don't want to be alone anymore, Cisely.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “I need you in my life, more than I have ever needed anything. I want you by my side always.” Taking a small, black velvet box from his pocket, he places it in my hand.

  “We will have a good life together,” he says, opening it. “Will you have me, Mrs. Kelly? Will you take my name and share my life?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  With a teary smile, he takes the oval solitaire from the box. The stone is surrounded by tiny emeralds. “This was my mother's ring. My father gave it to her and before she died, she gave it to me, probably hoping I would give it to my future wife. I've never had a desire to give it to anyone until now. Don't ask me why I have it with me because there really is no answer. I have always taken it with me wherever I've gone. I suppose for luck. Call me crazy.”