You were going to be mine, Celeste, and fuck everybody else!
And then we happened. Of course there were ups and downs. As there always are in relationships. I knew you were holding back from the first time I had you in my apartment.
I didn’t know what you were frightened of, but if you weren’t ready, I wasn’t about to push.
I sensed that you were skittish. I had to tread very carefully with you.
Fast forward to a few months later. You had utterly consumed me. Remember the day in my office? I promised you the world. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I want to take you away.”
You hesitated… and then consented.
It was the single biggest victory of my life.
Now, Celeste, listen carefully. Read these words carefully. Saying that it was “the biggest victory” is not an exaggeration. It is not hyperbole or melodrama or me being cheeky for effect.
What it is, is the simple, unabashed truth.
It is the truth I feel most deeply in my heart:
You are my most precious victory.
Listen. I know where your head is at. You’ll read that last line, and you have every right to be skeptical.
But it’s true. Fuck, woman, it’s so very, very true. All the other things that made me who I am—the book deal, the sudden celebrity, the money, the fame, hell, even the blasted teaching position at the university—none of it holds a candle to you.
Do you know why? It’s because I can live without all those other things. I can live without my money or my fame. I can live without my books or my job. I can live without my apartment or car or yacht.
But I cannot live without you.
Butterflies explode in my stomach.
You, you, you. It’s always been you. You are the only one for me. You are my life, my sun, my air. You are my everything. I fucking love you.
(Okay, okay—now I’m being extra sappy. But it comes from a good place, you know?)
Anyway. Christ, I’m rambling. Aren’t love letters supposed to be clean and precise? Hah! This is anything but. I’m not even sure I’ve even made a single coherent point in any of this writing. But whenever my mind turns to you dozens, hundreds, thousands of thoughts and ideas begin clamoring to get out.
I can’t distil them. If I had to… well, I can’t. But they all stem from three words. Three little words spoken and thought and written with a meaning behind them that cannot be understood by anybody who’s never experienced what you and I have together…
Three little words, Celeste, written, fittingly, in red ink:
I. Love. You.
And that’s it. There’s nothing more to it than that. It’s why I cannot let you go. They are why I’ll never stop fighting. You think you can reject it, maybe. You think you can push me away. Well, I’ve got news for you, lady, whether you’re ready to hear it or not:
You can’t.
Not now, not ever.
You can never get rid of me.
The choice is out of your hands, dammit, because I’ve made my claim on you. I don’t want or need or even see anybody else.
There is only you.
You know the things I love most about you? I’ve never had the chance to tell you. I’m afraid if I do, you’ll become self-conscious and stop doing them.
They’re little mannerisms, nothing more, but they’re so precious and sweet and special to me that they leave me completely annihilated and entirely in your thrall…
There are four of them. I’m reluctant to list them, but I think maybe if I do… just maybe… you’ll realize how much attention I truly pay to you.
Okay. Here they are.
First. First, of course, is that little lip bite you do. When you’re a tiny bit nervous, when you’re a little unsure, when you’re putting on a strong front but inside harbor a tiny bit of doubt.
But that one’s obvious. Anybody who’s been in your company for more than a day has seen it. It’s ridiculously endearing, Celeste. I want you to never stop.
Second. Number two. This one’s rarer. Sometimes, in the heat of conversation or when you’re concentrating, without realizing it, you reach up and…
Tug your ear.
I stop reading. I don’t do that—do I?
Then I notice my left hand is raised and hovering perilously close to my… ear.
I chuckle and shake my head, then keep going.
Third is my second-favorite. Duh. I’m saving the best for last, of course. Build up an anticipation and get you guessing, you know—
Ah shit. Look at this! I’m out of space.
Well, you’ll just have to see me and learn the final two, won’t you, babe?
I put the note down. Emotions tear through me. My heart feels like breaking.
James says all that. James thinks all that.
His love knows no boundaries.
And I am getting worse. There’s no denying it. Surgery is the only option. If it fails…
I close my eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath.
If it fails there is no coming back.
But as it stands, I’m not going to recover, either.
Life offers no miracles.
I look at Summer, asleep in her bed. She needs me.
I think of James and our promised life together. He needs me.
And I so desperately want to live to be there for them both.
I look up at the ceiling. That coin’s still in the air. If I go in for surgery… that’s when it’s going to land.
There’s no delaying it anymore.
29.
I knock on James’s door instead of using my key.
He answers it after a minute.
I look at the floor. “Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” James answers.
“I…” I lift the test up. “I saw your note.”
“Okay,” he says. He sounds hesitant.
“I… I want what you described, too,” I say softly. I glance up at him, his magnificent green eyes.
“Celeste—“
“You know it’s not guaranteed, right? You know that anything can happen in the operating room. If it goes wrong—I don’t want you to feel guilty.”
He takes a step back. “You’re going to do it?”
His voice is hoarse.
I meet his gaze then and hold it. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, if that is what you want.”
He embraces me in the middle of the doorway. “You’re going to make it, Celeste,” he whispers in my hair. “I promise you. I swear.”
I close my eyes, rub my cheek against his firm chest. “I hope so,” I whisper.
***
I schedule surgery for the first Wednesday of the new year. That gives me enough time to get my affairs in order, just in case.
***
I stay as close to James as I can in the days leading up to surgery.
I’m not saddened, though. If anything, I am… relieved.
After surgery, I’ll have the final answer. I’ll know if what James promised me will be possible or not.
Every hour that passes fills me with a calm sense of acceptance. It’s out of my control, now. The decision’s been made. I don’t have to take the awful chemo drugs that make me feel like shit any more.
James and I try to make love every night. I won’t describe it for you except to say that every time we do, it feels more special than before.
Some secrets are meant to be kept.
30.
The night before my surgery, I say goodnight to James and close my eyes for the final sleep before I’ll find out if he and I are truly meant to be together forever.
Sleep is short and restless. I guess, despite my mental calm, my body knows that something big is happening.
I get out of bed around five and wait for James. He has an alarm set in an hour. We have to be at the hospital by seven.
I dose off on the couch until I’m jerked awake by a crash and a string of curses coming from the kitchen.
“Fuck, fuck,
motherfucking shit, FUCK!”
I jump up and hurry to the entrance.
I discover James dressed in just his boxers, swearing over a shattered coffee mug on the floor.
I open my mouth to ask what happened—and promptly clamp it shut.
This could be the last time I see James without him knowing he’s being observed.
I keep quiet and study him.
My eyes roam the hard contours of his back. How I long to cling onto those shoulders again, knowing nothing but him. How badly I want to look into his eyes as he enters me and we become, for a short, perfect moment, united as one.
I don’t get long to look. James feels my presence. He turns around.
“Celeste,” he breathes. A smile flickers across his face. The mess on the floor is forgotten.
“Hi,” I say.
He walks to me, his bare feet barely making a sound on the cold tiled floor. “Good morning…” He stops a breath away from me and looks deep into my eyes. He brushes the hair out of my face, “…beautiful.”
Then he clasps me to him and kisses me hard.
I’m panting when he lets go. My heart is racing so fast it hurts. I just smile at him with my goofy grin.
“I’m ready,” I tell him softly.
He nods. “Okay. I’ll get dressed—wait.”
He stops, turns around, and reaches for a box on top of the fridge. He brings it to me. “I got you something,” he says.
He opens the box. Inside is an exquisite black pendant linked by a long, thin piece of string.
James takes it out. “It’s from my mother,” he says, as he gently raises it over my head. I let him put it around my neck. “She gave it to me when I was a little boy. I used to be frightened of the dark, did you know that?”
He chuckles. “Well, she told me that if I wore this when I went to sleep, the monsters in the dark couldn’t touch me.” His fingers trace the medallion. “But it had to be recharged each night. Do you know how?”
I shake my head. “No,” I breathe.
“With a kiss,” James says. He brings the pendant to his lips. He touches it to them, then dips it beneath my shirt. “My mother used to come in every night and kiss it for me before I fell asleep. Silly, I know, but… it worked. It chased my night terrors away. Whenever I had it on, I knew I would wake the next morning knowing only peace and happiness. Never fear.”
“You’re giving it to me?”
“Yes,” he says. “So that when you go in for surgery, you are unafraid. So that when they put you under, you’ll know that you’re going to wake up.” He holds my arms. “And when you do, that our life together begins.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “James, I… thank you.”
I look side to side. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.” I lower my voice. “I believe you. When you say I’ll make it. With all my heart, I do.”
He smiles. It’s a soft, gentle smile. I see a touch of sadness in his eyes. “I love you, baby,” he whispers, and embraces me.
I hold on tight to him. “I love you, too.”
***
It takes us half an hour to get ready for the trip. We don’t actually do anything that needs doing. We just delay.
Finally, time is up.
“Celeste,” James says. “It’s time to go.”
“K,” I whisper. I look around the apartment one last time. Will I see it again?
I do not know.
“Hey, James?” I ask, as we get into his car. “Do you think I’ll have time to see Summer? Before I check in.”
He squeezes my hand. “I’ll make sure of it,” he swears.
“Good,” I smile. He starts the engine. The gentle purr makes me feel extraordinarily sleepy.
He drives out of the garage. I gaze out the window. Snow is falling. The day feels beautiful and fresh.
“James?” I whisper. “Tell me that you love me.”
“I love you, baby,” he answers. “I love you more than the air I breathe. I love you more than the sun itself. You are my air. You are my stars. I love you, Celeste, as I’ve never loved anyone before. I…”
I stop listening to the words and blur my vision as I look outside. I hear only the gentle vibrations of his voice.
I let it wash over me. With it comes a strange but beautiful calm.
I don’t have to fight anymore. I don’t have to struggle against anything.
I love this man, and nothing will ever charge that.
I close my eyes.
PART SIX
Confessions
1.
I have not been truthful from the start.
I am not Celeste Adams, writing this book.
I am James Landon, writing this book.
Celeste died en route to the hospital on January 6th, 2013.
She closed her eyes and did not open them. Her heart gave out in the car.
She was only twenty-four.
***
PART SEVEN
Postscript
1.
JAMES -
In the days that followed, I grieved.
I grieved for what I had lost. I grieved for what could never be.
I grieved because I feared Celeste never knew the intensity of my love for her.
I shunned everything and everyone. Nothing seemed to matter in her absence.
When I had nowhere else to turn, I visited Summer in the hospital.
I walked in on her crying. She was grieving, too.
“Did you love her?” she asked.
“With all my soul,” I said solemnly.
She sniffled, then reached under the covers for a gift wrapped box. “Celeste… she left you this.”
My eyes focused on her. “When?”
“She told me to give it to you if she… if she…” Summer dissolved into soft sobs again. “If she didn’t make it.”
I took the package from her.
“Open it when you’re alone.”
I raced to my car and tore through the gift wrap.
Inside, I found a note:
To the most wonderful man in the world,
If you’re reading this it means I am gone.
I so desperately wanted to emerge and live our promised life together. It would have been spectacular. But if fate stops us from doing so, I want you to know the depth of my devotion to you.
I’ve only known you for a few months, yet it feels like years. You’ve become my everything. My best friend, my happiness, my joy, my air, my rock, my all. I am so lucky to have looked upon your wonderful face.
If one can feel love after death, mine will be for you. Know that. Only you, James. I will treasure you always and go into the final sleep with your beautiful eyes shining in my mind, your first words echoing in my ears:
“I’ve been watching you all night.”
You showed me what it is to live. To breathe. To be free, and to be… me.
You showed me what it is to love.
Know that I loved you. I loved you from the first moment we met. I took a long time accepting that, but it is the truth.
My whole life I’ve been a coward. I hid who I was, thinking it gave me strength. I thought I was doing the world a favor by retreating.
I was always just the one-night-stand girl. I did not aspire for anything greater than that. I did not think I deserved anything more.
You proved me wrong. You made me see that life is not to be discarded out-of-hand, but to be treasured.
Every day is a little miracle. Every day is a tiny gift.
You proved to me that I deserve love.
I don’t want you to be saddened by my passing. We both knew the end was near. I am just so, so grateful for the moments we spent together.
I left you something. It is my most precious, most treasured possession:
A journal.
You are the only person in the world I trust it with.
I began it the week I met you. I thought if I chronic
led my thoughts, it would help me get over the dark, handsome stranger who rocked my world for one sinful night.
I wrote everything there. My deepest beliefs, my most sincere feelings. Read it.
You’ll see that it all centers around one person:
You.
If I was stubborn in admitting my love for you, I’m sorry. I only ever wanted to keep you safe.
You, you, you. It’s always been you, darling. It’s always been you, James.
I did not know I was searching for pure happiness before. But I had it, for a brief, flickering, ephemeral moment… with you.
That is worth everything to me.
I only have one regret, and that is that I did not have the time to show you how much or how strongly I loved you.
If I go, James, I have a final wish:
Do not cut your life short.
You have good in you. Don’t hide it. Don’t deny it. Let others see.
Find love again.
I adore you, you perfect man, you. You have so much left to give. Don’t let my memory become your burden. Know that I will always be watching you, from wherever I end up next.
So thank you, James, for it all. For everything. So long as you keep a piece of me in your heart, I know I am loved.
Forever your girl,
C
It ruined me. I leafed through the diary beneath but could not bring myself to read the pages.
It was too soon.
For what seemed like ages, I drifted on a wave of apathy and loss. I was numb. Time ceased to hold meaning.
I withdrew from the university. I was no longer teaching.
I was a broken man.
Celeste asked me to move on, but I could not. She’d meant everything to me.
Without her, life was not worth living.
It was not until weeks after, while wandering the streets of Chicago without aim or purpose, that I ran into Summer and Angela, purely by chance. My ex-wife was harassing my former student.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 160
