Kiss Kiss

by Various Authors

  "But, I have to let you go now. It's time for you to be at peace. I will always wonder what could've been for us, Mayson. I will always treasure those lovely moments that we shared. And I'll always do my very best to not let my memories be clouded by your mistakes." I stopped to take a deep breath before I continued speaking. "I need you to hear me, Mayson. I need you to hear me when I say that I love you. Because I do, Mayse, no matter what happened, no matter what you did or didn't do...I love you."

  Choking on the words and tears, I felt Cece's delicate hand on my shoulder. I stood and hugged her tightly before releasing her. She needed to be with her son now. Her husband was standing by the door, watching us stoically. It was the first time I'd ever seen him. His face was pained, but he didn't cry. I turned back to Cece.

  "I'll be outside."

  "No, you can stay."

  "I need to give you time with your son. Besides, I can't bear to be here when he goes. Thank you for giving me that time. I needed it more than you will ever know."

  Somehow, I mustered the strength to leave the room, knowing that Mayson would be gone in a matter of hours, minutes, or even seconds. The thought was unbearable and I couldn't be there when he left this world.

  Walking towards the elevator, I saw a blond woman slumped over a garbage can, her hair pulled back weakly by her own hands.

  "Brynn?" I asked, almost in a whisper. She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  "Ugh! Not you. Please go...just go away. I don't want to be near you right now, not today," she hissed, leaning over to clutch the trash can once again. I could smell alcohol on her breath.

  "Please, let me help you. There is a restroom right around the corner. I'll help you get cleaned up before you..." I summoned the words, but they would not leave my mouth.

  "Before I lose the man I'm supposed to marry? Before he dies? God, I don't want to be talking about this with you, his whore, of all people."

  "I'm not his whore, Brynn, just like you aren't his fiancé," I said matter-of-factly. Her blotchy red eyes widened as she looked at me in shock. "Yes," I continued, "I know." Brynn opened her mouth as if to speak, but simply stared at me, wide-eyed, looking ashamed.

  "He doesn't have much time. And if you don't say goodbye, you'll always regret it."

  "How dare you?" She spit the words as if they were venom. "You know absolutely nothing about me. You don't know the years I've spent loving that man, planning our future, and worshipping the ground he walked on. Don't you get it? I wasn't enough. I wasn't enough to keep him faithful. He went looking for something more. He went looking for you!" She sobbed as she yelled at me. I took the lashing, knowing she had to get it out. I stood up straight and prepared for more abuse. But instead, she took my hand and sank into my arms.

  "I will never, ever forgive him. I wish you'd never showed up here, Daphne. At least then I could've said goodbye. I could've loved him when he died. I could've...I could've...this can't be happening! Why is this happening?"

  "Brynn, I'm begging you to please say goodbye to him. Neither of us asked for this to happen. Neither of us wanted to feel like we weren't enough for him. But, the truth is, we will never feel anything else. He's leaving us. He's going soon. You need to make peace, Brynn. You need to forgive him."

  "Do you?" she asked, incredulously, pulling away from me. She looked bewildered. "Do you forgive him?"

  "Right now, yes, I've forgiven him. I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow. But, I know I have to be here with him right now. I said goodbye and gave him my forgiveness. I needed to do that. I needed to let him go. I have no idea how I'll feel in the future, but I don't think I will ever regret saying goodbye to the love of my life."

  "Is that who he was to you, the love of your life?'

  "Yes," I whispered, afraid of hurting her.

  "He was mine, too," she responded. "Damn him!"

  "Look, Brynn, I don't know why he kept us both around. I really don't. But I have to believe it was because he loved us, both of us. We both know Mayson could be selfish, and maybe this was his ultimate act of selfishness. He couldn't let either of us go."

  "Maybe" She nodded reluctantly. "I wish I could get the world to stop spinning for a minute. There's no way that I can face his parents like this. I need to sober up."

  "So you've decided to see him?" I asked, hopeful.

  "Yes, I need to."

  "How about coffee? Do you drink coffee?" I asked. She nodded in response.

  "Alright, sit down for a minute. I'll get you a cup of coffee to help you sober up. Then you can go to him. You can say goodbye to the man you love." Her eyes welled with tears as I gazed at her. She was so wounded.

  "Why are you being so nice to me, Daphne? Why don't you hate me the way I've always hated you?"

  "I'm not sure." I answered, shrugging. And that was the truth. As much as her words stung, it had never occurred to me to hate Brynn. Only to hate what Mayson had done.

  "Mayson's deception was his alone, Brynn. I'm not going to hate you for loving him. He was pretty irresistible."

  "Yes, he was...is...was." She sobbed again into my already soaked sleeve.

  #

  Chapter 18

  Goodbye

  Mayson's services were lovely--devastating, depressing, heartbreaking and unbelievably sad, but lovely. Cece had asked me to sit with the Holts, but I chose to sit quietly in the back of the church as Brynn sat with Mayson's family.

  After a small service led by the pastor, Mayson's father walked to the podium to deliver his son's eulogy. Pain spread across the man's face. His brow furrowed and it was obvious he was attempting to hold back his tears, hold back all of the emotion that was brimming from the loss of his son. Before speaking, he brushed the stray gray hairs from his face and breathed in deeply.

  "One of the most difficult things to imagine in this world is the idea of losing one's child. I have three boys. They've always been a challenge for my wife and I, as boys usually are. We had our fair share of permanent marker on the walls, ER visits due to broken bones, and other things of that nature.

  "Mayson was the youngest, and with that, came extra challenges for him and for us. He was always trying to keep up with his older brothers, always trying to prove to the world that he was just as fast, just as strong, and just as talented.

  "But, there was so much more to my son, Mayson. He was passionate about architecture, even as a small child. We'd take him into Charleston and he was fascinated by the buildings, the modern as well as those built so long ago. He knew he wanted to build things; he wanted to create. He was driven, yet free-spirited. He was focused, yet so carefree.

  "My son was not perfect. Something I've been reminded of recently. But, he had a very large heart and he never set out to purposely hurt a soul." Mr. Holt paused and glanced at Brynn. His eyes then left her and searched the chapel until they landed on me. My heart jumped. Brynn turned in the pew and stared at me with pain in her eyes. A chill ran down my spine. Even though she was no longer angry with me, my presence still hurt her, and always would.

  "So, today, I am choosing to remember my son as the free-spirited man who wanted to build, who wanted to create. Today, I am choosing to remember my son as the man that he was becoming. He was building a future for himself, one that I wish I could've seen. For, I know, as I've always known, Mayson was meant for greatness." He paused, turned to the large statue of Christ on the crucifix, and gestured to Jesus, adding, "Perhaps he still is, perhaps his greatness will emerge in the Kingdom of Heaven. Goodbye, Mayson. Make me proud, son, as you always have."

  Mr. Holt choked on his words and grasped the edge of the podium, his eyes staring downward as if to shield the congregation from his tears, from his pain. My eyes grew hot as the tears streamed down my face. He wiped his cheek with his handkerchief, gave a weak smile to the congregants, and sat back down next to Cece for the remainder of the services.

  I couldn't endure the burial, so after the church services, I quickly headed to Mayson'
s family in order to pay my respects and to say goodbye. After hugging each of his brothers, I turned to Cece, my lip quivering from the sadness that had enveloped my soul. She embraced me and I sobbed once again, no longer able to feel my soaked cheeks.

  "Dear, I'm so sorry that we met this way. I know this may seem like an odd thing to say, but I will miss you," Cece said, lightly touching my cheek.

  "I wish we could've met on different terms, Cece. If there is anything that I can ever do, please let me know," I said reassuringly as I rubbed her shoulder softly. I nodded at Mayson's father, his face once again lacking emotion. I imagined that he was trying to stay strong for his wife, but my heart broke for him. His son had died and he appeared to have gone numb. Perhaps he was.

  The next morning, I was packing my suitcase, preparing for the flight back home when my cell phone rang. Without even glancing at the screen, I answered. The voice on the other line was unexpected, especially so soon after Mayson's services.

  "Hello, dear, it's Cece."

  "Hi, it's so nice to hear from you." So nice, but so soon.

  "Listen, Daphne, I'm sure that you're planning to head back to Chicago sometime soon. But, I'm wondering if you could meet me before you leave. I have something important to discuss with you."

  "Of course I can meet you." My reply was hesitant. I had no idea what she would possibly want to discuss. But I was happy to have the chance to spend time with her nonetheless. "My flight leaves this afternoon, but I'm free until then."

  "I remember you mentioned that your hotel was near the hospital. There's a cafe just around the corner from St. Joseph's called Bon Apetit. Let's meet there in, say, an hour?" Her voice was shaky, almost nervous.

  "Yes, that would be fine. I hope everything is alright, Cece."

  "I'll see you soon." Her voice sounded agitated. My nerve endings sizzled as my brain pondered the sudden change in her demeanor. On edge, I somehow managed to finish packing my suitcases and headed to the cafe.

  Cece was waiting for me when I entered the restaurant. Large, dark circles sat beneath her eyes. She looked as though she'd barely slept. My heart ached for her.

  "Good morning," she greeted me, pulling me in for a warm embrace. "Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice. This would've been so much harder to do over the phone..." Her eyes left mine as she returned to her seat. I sat down, my heart thumping frantically in my chest.

  "I have to be honest. You're making me incredibly uneasy," I said, hoping she'd reassure me that everything was okay, that I'd just misunderstood her behavior. Grief could masquerade in many forms, after all. Some could become angry, defiant, or edgy. I hoped that Cece was exhausted and elusive due to her anguish. But there was no change in her disposition. Instead, she hung her head and began her confession.

  "I've been up all night, Daphne. I wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do, but...I had to see you. I had to tell you what I know."

  "What you know? Did you learn something about Mayson?"

  "Yes, well, I found something, something of Mayson's. But I think it was meant for you," she said, reaching into her purse. "Please forgive me for showing this to you, but I had to...I needed you to know." What could possibly be inside that purse? What other betrayal had Mayson committed against me? The suspense was absolutely horrendous. Forcing myself to breathe deeply, I waited for Cece to reveal her discovery.

  My jaw felt like it dropped to the table as she placed a small velvet box in front of me.

  "This can't possibly be what I think it is," I gasped in horror.

  "Open it."

  Holding my breath, I slowly opened the elegant box. A large solitaire diamond was nestled into a gorgeous platinum setting. There was no doubt it was an engagement ring. Its beauty forced me to bite my lip, containing my emotions.

  "I don't understand. This must be for Brynn. Why on earth are you showing this...to me? I can't bear the idea of knowing I was cheating with a man who was about to propose to another woman." Cece shook her head defiantly.

  "I was afraid you'd say that. I know that Mayson and Brynn were together a long time. But, every fiber of my being tells me that this ring was meant for you." Her eyes were pleading with me to listen.

  "For me? Why? What makes you think that? I'm struggling to wrap my mind around all of this." Completely overwhelmed, I reached into my purse to find a tissue. My eyes were swelling with tears and I was angry with myself for crying again over Mayson's unfaithfulness. These feelings of anger were also directed at Cece for sharing this with me, for pouring lemon juice on the paper cut inside my heart. Why would she do this to me? Why?

  "I didn't exaggerate when I told you that Mayson had been different lately. He was different the entire time he was seeing you, Daphne. He was lighthearted, carefree, in love. I could see it, I could feel it. I had never seen him like that, not in all the years that he and Brynn were together."

  "Really?"

  "Of course they seemed happy, but he was not enchanted by her. She didn't bring out the best in him. I think you did. And I think Mayson knew that. In my heart, I believe he was planning to end it with Brynn, but then...the accident..."

  "Cece, I'm sorry, but this is too much for me right now," I said, hanging my head, wiping my tears, wishing for this dreadful conversation to end.

  "Maybe this was a mistake. I'm so sorry. You are such a sweet and loving person. I thought this would give you peace. I thought this would help you to know just how much he loved you."

  "But I don't know that it's for me, Cece. That's the problem. You feel it in your gut, but that's not enough for me. I don't feel it in mine."

  "I see." She looked down at the table, looking defeated. I needed her to understand.

  "There's no engraving with my name, no note inside the box, nothing. The man I loved purchased a ring that may have been meant for me. But I will never know for sure...ever."

  "There is a receipt," Cece said, her voice commanding that I listen.

  "What?" I mustered weakly.

  "Does this date mean anything to you?" she asked, handing me the small piece of paper with the name of a jewelry store at the top. It was dated Saturday, November 27th, the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

  "It does," I said, my heart creeping into my throat.

  "Well?" Cece asked in anticipation.

  "The night before, he told me he loved me," I said softly. Cece gasped and smiled widely.

  "So it must be for you," she exclaimed while releasing a large sigh of relief.

  "No, you don't understand. He showed up at my apartment, told me he loved me, but then he left me the next morning. He purchased it the day he left me with no goodbye."

  "He left you? That doesn't make sense. The two of you expressed your love for the first time."

  "No, I didn't say that, Cece. I told you that Mayson expressed his love."

  "I'm so confused. You seem to care so deeply for him. I assumed you loved him, too." Cece looked panicked.

  "I do love him, Cece. I just couldn't find the words that night. It was complicated and I was overwhelmed. The point is, he left the next morning, leaving only a note. He said he had things to think about. What if he decided to end things with me and pursue a future with Brynn?"

  "Or what if he was making the ultimate gesture to win your love," Cece suggested, raising one eyebrow. She reminded me of her charismatic son. Did she truly believe this, or was she only telling me what she thought I needed to hear in this moment? Did Mayson think I needed an engagement ring in order to return his love? Or had he simply given up on me? More questions without answers. Another mystery that would plague my soul.

  "Maybe," I said, staring at the table, my heart pulsing painfully inside my chest, "or maybe not."

  "I would never want to hurt you." She sighed, reaching out to touch my hand. Without thinking, I pulled away from her. She looked so much like Mayson that I couldn't handle her touch. I couldn't bear to be hurt again. When I saw her expression, her eyes wide and wounded, I was
immediately filled with regret over hurting her.

  "I know that, Cece. You've been through so much. I haven't forgotten that. But, I was finally coming to terms with everything, and now...now it's worse than I ever could've imagined. I dreamed of a future with Mayson, fantasized about it. I dreamed of moving to Denver, of buying a home, of getting married. And now you're telling me that he may have shared that dream with me. But then again, he may have decided to have that with someone else."

  Abruptly, Cece stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am, Daphne. I thought I was doing the right thing. As a mother, I wanted to comfort you, to let you know that my Mayson was capable of more. But, like my son, I've hurt you and I'll always regret that. I need to go." She placed the ring box in the middle of the table.

  "This ring belongs to you. I'm certain of that. Even if you can't see that right now. Do what you will with it. You can leave it here, throw it in the nearest trash bin... whatever you feel you need to do. But I know in my heart that it's yours."

  The clicking of her heels told me she left the restaurant. Once my nerves had settled, I knew it was time to go. Unsteadily, I grabbed the velvet box, placed it in my purse, and headed towards the door, back to the safety of my hotel room. My flight couldn't leave soon enough. I had to leave Denver as soon as I possibly could.

  #

  Chapter 19

  Questions

  "Daph, seriously, get out of bed," I heard Morgan talking into my answering machine. She knew me too well. I glanced at the clock and groaned, seeing it was already noon. I knew that I should get up and start my Saturday, but I felt as if I was permanently adhered to my bed when I was not at work. I'd done my very best to keep up a positive front when teaching my students; after all, my personal life should not affect their education. But, at the end of each day, I was completely spent and yearned for the comfort and solitude of my bedroom.