The Legacy

by ADAMS, J.

  Still, sometimes he is tempted to mentally will time to slow down. It is hard to think about being separated at the end of their mortal lives for a single day or a single minute, because even that would be too long. He is healthy, yes, but he is so much older than Cisely. Even if they live until they are old and gray, it will be her that is left alone, and even that thought hurts. He just has a problem with separation, period. And if his son is as much like him as he seems, his love for Mali will surely grow to run as deep.

  “What are you thinking about, my love?” Cisely's silky voice is soft and soothing in the silence.

  “I did not mean to wake you, baby,” he whispers, kissing her brow.

  She snuggles closer. “Maybe I sensed you needed me.”

  Sighing, he smiles in the darkness, marveling at how intimately and emotionally connected they are to one another. He presses his forehead to hers. “I always need you, amore.”

  Her hand moves to his face. “And I will always be here. Now, what were you thinking about?”

  “I was thinking about our son and his quest to win his true love. I hope he is successful in getting her to open up and accept his love.”

  She caresses his hair, “Well, he takes so much after you, I have no doubt he will succeed. He loves her too much to give up. He will fight for her.”

  “I am sure you are right.”

  “Now,” she says, raising up and leaning on one elbow, resting her head against her hand, “what else were you thinking about?”

  “How do you know I was thinking about something else?” he asks, pressing a hand to her face.

  “Because I know you well enough to know that your thoughts usually consist of multiple things.” She smiles. “So, spill it?”

  He chuckles. “Boy, you can get pretty feisty at one o'clock in the morning, can't you?” When she snorts he laughs.

  “It comes with age, my love. By the time I'm seventy, I'll be fearsome.”

  “Thank you for the warning. I will make sure and be on my guard.”

  “So noted. But you're avoiding the question.”

  He sobers. “I know.” He sighs. “Truthfully, I was also thinking about getting older. Time is passing so quickly, and sometimes I wish it would slow down a bit.” He pauses, not wanting to say more, but he is sure she understands his heart. “I just think about that sometimes.”

  I do understand, more than he realizes because I have these moments as well. Willing the thoughts away, I lean down, kissing his lips lightly. “You know what I think? I think you think too much.”

  “You are probably right,” he agrees, pulling me closer. “I don't want to think anymore.” His voice is thick with emotion. “And I don't ever want to be away from you.”

  Moving my face closer to his, I whisper, “You won't. I'm right here.” I place my hand over his heart. “And when we are not together I am here.”

  Returning the gesture, he pushes the hair back from my face, brushes his lips over mine and whispers huskily, “Let us not think anymore, amore, not talk anymore.” Then he takes me fully in his arms.

  I immediately melt against him as the heat of his kiss and the touch of his hands light a fire inside me, a fire that is only kindled when passion roams free.

  Ninety-six

  Salt Lake City, Utah Phillip is surprisingly calm as he enters the boutique. Standing just inside the door a moment, he lets his eyes scan the female faces until he finds one he recognizes. And just as he spots her, Wendy’s wide-eyed smile meets his. She runs to him, embracing him tightly.

  “It’s so good to see you!”

  “It’s good to see you too,” he says.

  Wendy pulls back, taking him in from head to toe,

  causing him to blush. “You look great. As handsome as ever.” He grins shyly. “Thanks. I only hope your daughter feels the same.”

  Wendy squeezes his hand, pulling him aside. “I really believe that deep down, those feelings are still there, though she adamantly denies it.” Pausing, she cautiously looks around a moment. “She’s afraid, Phillip. Not only has she lost her trust in others, she doesn’t trust herself or her feelings, either. But I know you can help her see how amazing she is. I just know it.”

  “I pray you’re right. All I can do is try.” He takes a deep breath. “Where is she?”

  Wendy points to the door her daughter imprisons herself behind daily, her expression growing sad. “She never comes out until we close. I usually take lunch in to her, otherwise she wouldn’t eat.” She pushes a hand back through her hair, swallowing in frustration. “She would rather go hungry than face anyone. And I just don’t know how to help her.”

  Shaking his head, Phillip looks at his watch, a slow smile spreading across his face.

  “Why don’t you let me take care of lunch today?”

  Wendy grins, admiring his quick thinking. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

  “Lets just hope she doesn't throw it back in my face,” he says, only half serious.

  “Well, if she does, then I guess she will go hungry, won't she?”

  He laughs. “I guess so.”

  Mali slowly runs the steamer down the silk skirt a final time before placing it on the rack with the other finished garments. Brushing her hair back from her face, she takes a deep breath, momentarily gazing off into space. Her mother will be in with her lunch at any moment. She is tempted to feel guilty for keeping herself secluded this way and knows she should be braver and get out more. She can’t expect her mother to do this forever.

  Mali needs to reclaim her life. But how can she face anyone so disfigured? How can anyone ever look past the scar that has taken away any chance of her having a normal life? Even as her mind reasons it's wrong to feel this way, she pushes the thought aside, telling herself to accept her fate. She isn't being shallow, just internally stating a fact.

  Putting her mind back on her work, Mali takes a blouse from the rack and hangs it on the hook. She is just beginning to steam the wrinkles from it when she hears the door open. “Thanks, Mom,” she calls, her back facing the door. When there isn’t the usual response of “You're welcome,” she glances back and freezes.

  “Ciao, Mali.” Phillip's voice is calm. Completely speechless, she turns off the steamer, her heart races wildly. In an effort to overcome her shock, she lowers her eyes and turns away from him. “Hello,” she finally responds, her voice unsteady.

  Phillip walks over and places the Subway bag and tray of drinks on the table. When Mali tries to turn away again, he gently catches her arm.

  With a sigh of defeat, she face him fully. Bravely lifting her chin, there is a hint of quiet defiance filling her eyes. She has never felt more vulnerable in her life, but she refuses to let him see it. And having him standing before her now, looking so painfully handsome that it hurts her heart doesn't help matters.

  Remaining silent, Phillip lifts his hand to her face, pausing when she tenses slightly. His fingers gently move over her skin, his thumb caressing the three inch scar lining her cheek. “I’ve missed you, Mali.” His voice cracks a little.

  Mali closes her eyes against stinging tears, soaking in his gentle touch. She marvels at the emotion that just a single touch from him produces.

  “Oh, Mali,” he says with quiet reverence, “you’re so beautiful, even more so than I remembered.”

  At his heartfelt statement, Mali abruptly moves away from him. “Don’t patronize me,” she returns vehemently.

  Phillip keeps his voice soft. “You should know me well enough to know I don’t say things unless I mean them.”

  Her eyes are angry. “I thought I did, but maybe some things have changed.”

  Struggling to keep his rising anger in check, he swallows hard. “So, are you calling me a liar now?”

  She winces, then sighs, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Phillip. You didn’t deserve that. But you don’t know what I’ve had to deal with.” She tugs a hand back through her hair. “I’m not the same person anymore. We aren’t th
e same two kids.”

  At the risk of her pulling away, he reaches for her hand. When she doesn’t, he plunges ahead. “First, I know things are not the same. We’ve led totally different lives. But I am a man now and you are a woman–a woman I have loved since we were children. For me, the only thing that has changed is my love for you has only grown stronger.” He touches her face. “And I know that this,” he says, tracing her scar, “will never change who you are inside unless you allow it to.” He pauses. “Second, I can’t begin to understand what you have gone through. But I want to.” His eyes delve into hers. “Please, Mali. I've come so far to be with you. Don't push me away. Just open up a little and let me into your life.”

  Mali looks away as tears fill her eyes, her defenses crumbling. “Oh, Phillip,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

  “Hey,” he says softly, drawing her into his arms. “It’s all right. You did what you thought was best. It’s over now.”

  A combination of desperation, loneliness and confusion causes Mali to cling to him. Burying her face in his shirt, she cries, drawing comfort from his muscular arms and soothing warmth. It has been so long since she has just been held, so long since she’s felt such comfort. After a few moments, she draws back. Phillip wipes the tears from her cheeks with his fingers and she can't help being touched by the gesture. As she looks into his eyes, all of the feelings she buried long ago come rushing back. There is still confusion, but the feelings are there.

  Phillip gazes into Mali's eyes, clearly reading the emotions there, and feels a renewing of the connection they once shared. He senses her fear and his heart goes out to her. Earning her trust is going to take some time, but he will be patient and wait for her. He has already been waiting for half his life.

  Moving back, he takes her hands. “Why don’t we have some lunch and you can tell me all about your life. I want to know everything.”

  Mali gives him a faint smile. “I was going to say I will tell you only if you tell me about your life, but I already know everything from your letters.” She hesitates. “I’m sorry about not writing you back. I guess . . . I was a little afraid. I didn’t want to know how much I hurt you.”

  Looking down at their joined hands, he pushes away the painful memories of Mali marrying someone else. It had taken a while, but he had finally begun to heal. He refuses to let those wounds be reopened. “It helps to know you read my letters. I didn’t know at the time if you ever did.”

  She smiles. “I devoured every one you wrote. Jake was . . . he was gone a lot. Reading your letters help me to not feel so alone.”

  He squeezes her hand, saddened to think of her being alone with only his letters for company. “I’m glad they were of some comfort.”

  “Thank you for writing me.” She is about to say more, but the sudden rumbling of her stomach causes them both to laugh.

  “I think that was an official announcement that it is lunch time,” Phillip says. He hands her a sandwiches from the bag, and for the next hour, listens as Mali shares the details of her painful marriage.

  How she longs go back and change things. It seems her whole life has been full of regrets. One mistake led to another, and now her days are empty, with only misery and grief for company. And every time she glimpses her reflection in the mirror, she is reminded of the consequences allotted to her because of the choice she made to get into the car with her intoxicated husband.

  During the first year of Mali and Jake’s marriage, Jake was wonderful to her and she was happy. But as time passed, he changed. He started drinking heavily and stayed away from home more, preferring the company of his friends over Mali.

  Even now, Mali often asks herself why she didn’t leave him when the drinking began to get out of hand. Truthfully, she knows why. She had been determined to make their marriage work so she wouldn’t wind up feeling like a failure. She had hoped he would change. But her hope had been in vain. Even after the accident, Jake made no attempt to change. And since Mali was no longer the perfect looking adornment for his arm when he felt inclined to spend time with her, he decided he could do better. A three inch scar had sealed her fate.

  “Hey,” Phillip says, startling her. “Where were you?” Mali shrugs absently. “Nowhere.”

  They finish their lunch in silence.

  “Thank you for lunch,” she finally says. “I need to get

  back to work.” She stands, turning away from him.

  “Okay,” he says, taken off guard by her sudden mood

  change. He can literally feel her closing herself off to him again,

  and he wonders what triggered it. Still, he isn’t about to let that

  happen. He can’t.

  “Mali,” he says softly, taking her hand. “I would like to

  take you out to dinner this evening. Will you go with me?” She turns her face away, discreetly touching the scar. “I

  uh . . . I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “All right,” he says, a little disappointed, but not willing

  to give up. “Well, can I come by and see you later?” “I don’t know. I . . .”

  “I won’t let you shut me out, Mali. I am going to be here

  for a while.” He touches her face, staring into her eyes intently.

  “And I’m not going back to Italy without you.”

  Mali is rendered speechless, not only by the statement but the intensity of his gaze as well.

  Could he really care for me that much? she wonders. She continues to look into his eyes, doing her best to ignore the fluttering of her heart. “I won’t make you any promises, Phillip. Too much has changed.”

  “I know.” He caresses her cheek. “And I don’t expect any promises. But I will make one to you.” He draws her into his arms, whispering against her ear, “I will never hurt you, Mali. Never. And if it takes me forever to prove that to you, then so be it. Because that is how much time I am willing to wait for you. Forever.”

  Ninety-seven

  Over the weeks, Phillip and Mali spend a great deal of time together and Mali slowly emerges from her shell, occasionally covering her scar up enough with makeup to brave going out in public with him. It is time to reclaim her life, and she can't do that hiding in the shadows. She also realizes if she and Phillip are going to have any chance at all, she has to make an effort and at least meet him half way.

  The two spend time taking long walks and drives through the canyon. They share picnics in the park and go to movies. Phillip even gets her to go dancing, which is a major step for her. Other times, they relax in the family room at his place and simply talk. She know that to Phillip, anything they do is fine. He just loves being with her. She treasures that knowledge.

  Phillip senses Mali's confidence growing little by little, and each moment he is with her only deepens his love. He knows this is all taking her far beyond her comfort zone, but it will be well worth it in the end. He loves her more than he can say, so for right now, he exercises patience.

  He takes things slow, never pushing his affections on her, leaving each night with only a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Though everything inside him aches to take her in his arms and kiss her in a way that would surely betray the passion and longing he feels for her, he keeps himself in check. They have become so close again, and have come so far, the last thing he wants to do is scare her away.

  They spend a few days in Arizona with Ingo and his family and have a great time. Pulling Phillip aside one day while Mali is shopping with his wife, Ingo tells him how much they love Mali and hope she'll soon be a part of their family.

  Mali finds herself dreaming of a future with Phillip. With each day that passes, her feelings for him grow until she can't deny it any longer. She loves him. For the first time in her life, she truly knows what it feels like to be in love.

  When Mali married Jake, she didn't love him. She cared for him and her feelings grew during their marriage. Had things been different, she might have fallen in love with him, which is what she had
hoped for from the beginning, but it was not to be. And deep down, what she'd felt for Phillip when she was younger had never truly gone away. She is grateful now that it hadn't.

  Phillip also begins to sense Mali's growing feelings for him. He can see it every time her eyes met his. He just isn't sure when to begin taking things further. Afraid of moving too fast, he keeps himself in check, waiting for a sign from her.

  Then, out of the blue, it happens.

  He and Mali are sitting together on the patio steps, watching the sunset. Both are silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Phillip is scheduled to return to Italy in less than a week and he still doesn't know where things stand with Mali. He loves her so much, and he can't allow himself to think of leaving without her, or at least without knowing for sure she is his. Every moment he has to refrain from expressing his feelings for her is agony. Still, he waits.

  Mali studies Phillip's profile as a light breeze blows through his dark, tousled waves. She takes in his every feature– his strong handsome brow, his olive skin, his deep dimples and full lips, and his chiseled build. He is walking perfection, and owning the affections of such an amazing man is unbelievable at times.

  She ponders the love she sees in his eyes whenever he looks at her. She knows he is doing his best to be patient and she is grateful to him for allowing her some time. It had been exactly what she'd needed. Still, with all his patience, she senses his underlying passion, and the desire that burns in his eyes when he gazes into hers almost undoes her at times. Never in her life has she ever felt so loved or wanted.

  Sitting with him now, her feelings are so strong, she can't hold them back any longer. He needs to know how she feels, and she needs to tell him.