“Yeah,” I nodded, unsure how to act. My actions felt clumsy whenever she was around. Was it more hurtful to be friendly and closer to her? Or was cruel to be distant? I never knew what measure of familiarity was more difficult for her to swallow, especially now that I’d driven her fiancé out of town. But Bellamy, she never faltered. Everything was natural to her. She took her hand from my face and grabbed my hand. Curling her delicate fingers around my thick knuckles, she squeezed me.
She flipped my hand over in hers to observe my palm, tracing the lines and smiling to herself. Something about the way her lips curved left me both confused and wanting. I wanted to kiss her, to tell her I’d been a fool for hurting her and ever letting her going. But there was something knowing there in the corner of her mouth.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, looking up at me with her sapphire eyes.
“Anything,” I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry. I still couldn’t believe she was there.
“Why did you leave? And tell me the truth this time.”
I shook my head, “I’ve told you-”
“Lies...you’ve told me lies, Ollie. I want the real reason. I need to know and I think I deserve it. Don’t you?”
Her voice was so soft it didn’t even disturb the breeze, but it held such command. It always had. She’d been the captain of my heart.
“Bellamy,” I tried to pull away and she gripped my hand harder, tethering herself to me in what felt like a memory. It was the same way so many years ago in this garden.
“Tell me,” she whispered, her breathy words coming out like a beg.
“It’s complicated. I left because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Your leaving did hurt me. It destroyed me. And the fact that you’re worried about me, even now, enough to tell Preston to get the hell out of here, that tells me there’s more to your story, love.”
Love. We hadn’t called each other that since we were teenagers. Did she still consider me hers the way I still considered her mine?
My eyes shot back to hers in silent questioning. “Yes, Ollie. You’re still the only one I’ve loved. So can you please tell me the truth? Can we put this heartache to rest.”
Bellamy squeezed my hand, coaxing me to spill all my truths. But what would she think once she knew?
“What if it makes the heartache worse, Bells?”
She offered me a teary eyed smile. “It won’t.” She shook her head. “Because I know what’s in your heart and trust you did all you could. It’s why I’m here beside you now...after all this time.”
I sighed, releasing all my emotion in a heavy breath. Looking away like a coward, I began.
“Remember the festival we went to in high school, the one with all the gypsies?”
“The fortunes,” she laughed cynically. “I knew it. I always suspected it was something from that day because you always felt distant after that. You didn’t hold me the same way, you made me feel like I was fragile. Like you’d already left.”
I nodded, shame coloring my cheeks and heating my skin.
“Well, what did she say to you? It had to be monumental for you to have done something this drastic. To have stolen time from us both.”
“She seemed full of it at first, saying little things you’d expect to hear from a typical palm reading. I didn’t invest in it.” I shook my head. “But then she said things that were too personal. She told me that I would get into all the schools I’d applied to, that I would be successful in anything I set out to accomplish. She said that you were the love of my life and always would be, but that you would win prom queen and valedictorian, and after that your mother would become very ill and die just after graduation, and that if I stayed with you, you would perish too, right in front of my eyes, and follow in her path, wilting like a rose. The first thing could’ve been something she’d looked up with your grades and popularity, but your mother did get sick and passed away horribly, and it just freaked me out. I decided that if I had to become the villain in your life in order for you to survive, I would. No matter how ridiculous it seemed. So...I became an asshole. I was cruel to you, not being there when I should have been, just so you could live.”
Bellamy remained silent for some time before she stood up and paced back and forth between the wall of roses my mother’s labyrinth created. It felt like ages before she actually spoke.
“You’re a damn fool, Ollie.”
Not what I expected. At least she hadn’t run off.
“You let us lose all this time because you thought you’d lose me.” Bellamy’s hand waved in the air with aggravation. “Don’t you think that was my choice too? Don’t you realize she told me things too? She told all of us lies. It just so happens she got some of it right. I already knew my mother was sick. I wasn’t supposed to, she hid it from all of us, including my poor father. But I’d found the paperwork for her doctor appointments in her dresser drawers. I’d seen her sick in the bathroom when she thought I wasn’t home. The women at that festival came back only one other time, do you know when that was?”
I frowned, completely at a loss for words.
“She came back for my mother’s funeral. And she came back with a teenage boy that was beautiful and kind. He picked up the pieces because you weren’t’ around, but there was always something odd about the coincidence of it all. About the way he swooped in and became my knight in shining armor...something that didn’t feel right deep in my heart.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ollie, it was Preston,” she whispered. “At that festival I thought she told me I’d end up marrying you. But over the years I reconsidered her words. She said “you will marry a beautiful boy. One that makes you feel alive every day. He will be with you after a great tragedy and will make you happy despite that tragic loss.” I assumed she was talking about my mother and you. But this week, after seeing you come back and overhearing Preston’s cruel words...I realized she’d just twisted what I wanted to hear. His mother had done her research and knew who I was. She knew I could help them succeed in town with my father’s connections and basically drove away the only person standing in their way. You. She got rid of you and played with your sweetheart. After my mother died she managed to get a job at your father’s offices and Preston shadowed him for years. He confessed it all to me just before storming out yesterday. I told him if he ever came back, I’d gut him and mount him on my wall like the animal he is.”
“You’re kidding me,” I stood, my muscles tightening beneath my skin.
It all made sense despite the absurdity of it. But after seeing the kind of man Preston was, I had no doubt that Fezia, if that was even her real name, was his mother. She was a cruel witch that had played us all. A slew of anger and frustration rushed through me. My blood boiled beneath my skin, but Bellamy’s next words soothed me.
“I wish I was kidding. I wish there was a better use of all this time we’ve wasted. There are so many things I wish were different, but what I wish for most is that we can make it better now. That you don’t leave me again. That..” she paused. “That you stop pretending we aren’t meant to be.”
“Bellamy...” I approached her and gripped her shoulders tighter than I should have. “You have to know, I did this because I was terrified I’d be your demise. I gave you up because I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You’ve never lost me, idiot. I’ve been here waiting for you to come to your senses. To be mine again...”
“I’ve always been yours,” I said, just before I pressed my mouth against hers and finally felt like I was home.
***
We kissed for minutes, hours, mere moments that felt infinite. I kissed her for those seven years that I’d left her, for all the kisses and touches I couldn’t give her and desperately wanted. My mouth begged hers for forgiveness and repentance, her tears racing against my skin washed away my regret. Framing her cheek with my hand, I pulled her closer and dared the fates to tear us apart again. Fear ran through my veins, testing
my resolve and worry that I could still ruin her. But the trembling of my hand and racing pulse didn’t stop me. Bellamy felt my palm and fingers shaking against her jaw where I held her. Cupping her hand over mine, she pulled her lips away just enough to whisper against my own.
“Ollie, it’s okay. Nothing will happen to me. I promise. You and I are going to have a very long life together. That is what’s meant to be. That is what’s in our fates. I’ve seen it. I’ve dreamt it for years. I’ve wanted nothing more for years.”
My teeth clenched as I reflected on all the hurt I’d brought upon her. Upon us both. I’d fallen for a foolish trick, a curse placed on both our hearts. It was too much and my eyes welled with tears I couldn’t blink back. I had loved this girl for my entire life. I had hurt that same girl because I loved her, and now she was a woman that was willing to take me back into her arms as if no time or pain had passed between us. I did not deserve her. I tugged Bellamy closer to my mouth with desperation and placed my kiss on her forehead. She leaned in further and laid her head just beneath my chin and against my chest. My heart beat faster as if it knew she was closer to it, soothing it.
“This,” she whispered, so softly, I barely heard her. “This is my favorite song. How I’ve missed it.”
Bellamy was listening to my heartbeat, just as she had so many years ago for our first time in the garden. She’d laid next to me, her half dressed limbs tangled with my own on the ground. The stars were above us and the earth below, the wind blowing the soft gardenia and rose scents against our exposed skin. The only sounds playing around us were her breathing peacefully against my chest, and our heartbeats beating in rhythm with one another.
As if she knew what I was thinking, she began to unbutton my shirt and kiss my chest directly over my heart. The feel of her lips on my skin ignited my blood and I leaned back to look at her, to truly understand her intentions. I hadn’t been with anyone since her, no one would measure up. No one deserved that place in my memory, history, or heart like she did. Bellamy’s eyes smiled at me. It had been a long seven years, but I couldn’t.
“I was never with Preston. It didn’t feel right, ever.”
I jerked back. “How did you convince him to wait? He was such an asshole.”
She hesitated, looking away for a moment before meeting my eyes with worry in hers. “I told him I’d had a really bad experience with someone. It was the only way.”
Again, I’d been painted as the villain of Faluk and the monster in her heart. Except this time I had no regrets, not if it meant Bellamy had faith that I’d come back. That I’d make her my queen and earn my rightful place beside her as her king. I’d take care of her, my mother, and her father. I’d make Faluk my home again and earn the heart of its people just as I’d made hers mine again.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, begging for forgiveness once again.
“I’m not.”
It was all she said before she continued unbuttoning my shirt, trailing her fingers down my chest and lightly touching the scattering of hair covering my muscles. I followed her lead, as always, and peeled her jacket off with care. We kissed again, barely breathing in between each touch. I squeezed her as if she were going to disappear right before my eyes. Part of me was still terrified and my stomach was flipping because I had missed her so desperately and was so genuinely afraid to lose her again. But she was right. She had faith, and her trust in our destiny lead me to lay her on the ground, surrounded by rose walls and the whistling wind. I made love to Bellamy for the first time in seven years, in the exact place and way I had that first time. I sealed our bodies together, melded my mouth with hers, and made certain that she knew she’d only ever been mine. Afterward, we laid there wrapped in one another, my body still inside hers and our lips still dancing with one another’s. We were those same young lovers we’d been so long ago. With Bellamy in my arms and her exoneration in my heart, I was at peace. I couldn’t rewrite the last seven years. I couldn’t erase them or our pain, but I could make certain that our futures were written together and nothing would tear us apart. I made the decision in that moment that we would have no beginning and no end. We would simply have each other, always.
The End.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stephanie Alba grew up in Hialeah, Fl. with her Cuban grandparents and holds a BA in English Literature and an MA in Educational Leadership from the University of Central Florida. From an early age, she always wanted to become a writer and began seriously working towards that goal during her first year at home with her infant.
Before becoming a stay-at-home mom, Stephanie taught high school English and Literature. Though she misses her “kids”, writing is her passion and all of her stories resonate with her experiences in some way. They are works of fiction, but just as they connect with her, she hopes they also connect with her readers.
She continues to live in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl. with her husband and son. When she isn’t writing, Stephanie is reading, at Disney, or spending time with her family.
If you’d like to follow or reach Stephanie Alba, you can do so on the following sites. She’d love to hear from you!
Blog and Website: www.stephaniealba.com
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Email: [email protected]
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A TALE OF blurred lines and two unlikely souls who find a way to make peace with their beasts—after all, life is hard, but death is harder.
Copyright © 2017 Madalyn Beck
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.
THE QUICK, SHARP stabs of a knife causes me to cry out into the darkness of my room. It’s just another night of another person’s death, but it doesn’t kill me. I groan under the unbearable sensation as my arms twist around my middle to be sure that it I am still in one piece.
A lady in white stands in the corner of my room as she holds to her stomach the way I hold to mine. She’s a ghost, hovering and transparent, but I can make out her features, the blood staining her dress around her stomach.
We cry together. I try to keep my groans and tears silent. I try to hold it together as best as I can, but the continued stabs make it more and more difficult.
The door to my room swings open so fast that it slams back against the wall. My mother’s eyes are wide with alarm. Her stringy light brown hair hangs limp. Her bony frame doesn’t even fill half the doorway, but her screams fill the house.
“Witch! Get out of my house!” She stumbles towards me, the liquor making her legs wobble more than usual. A bony hand grips my forearm, tugging me upwards. I try to yank my arm from her grasp, but it tightens each time I fall with another stabbing pain from an unseen blade. My mother doesn’t let up. She unlocks the front door and shoves me out into the night. “Stay out of here, witch!” She tosses my backpack out the door just before she slams it behind me.
The fact that my mother just kicked me out doesn’t register. Not yet. I fall to my hands and knees, bent over with the tearing in my gut. The lady in white must have followed me out. She stands not ten feet away, still crying, but they are whimpers now.
The pain is leaving.
No. The pain is still there.
She is leaving.
She’s dying.
* * *
The air is cold as I run from my mother’s screams. The sky is clear of clouds and the stars whisper on the wind, the light calling for me, and I desperately want to go. But fear keeps my feet pounding the pavement. I push forward into the gated lot.
“George. Beverly. Ryan. Emma.” I greet the headstones until I arrive at my spot. There is one headstone that settles me more than the rest. One that I chat with o
penly. One who is buried alone.
“Reece.”
Gravity sucks me to the ground, and I shrug off my backpack to rest against the headstone. “You’re lucky you’re dead.”
Yeah, I’m blunt.
The silence spills over me, and I welcome it. My muscles begin to relax as the crickets gently chirp into the night.
“My mom was screaming again. At least she didn’t tell me how she hates me this time. How she can’t stand to look at me. How she wishes she never had me.” My arms wrap around my middle, holding in the ache. This time it’s not from the murdered woman who came to me in the night. It’s from my mother. It’s from loneliness. As much as I hate her, a part of me still loves her. A part that still hopes one day she’ll love me.
Her cries, ear-splitting and shrill, ripped me apart as I tried to pull myself together on the front porch of the house. But I couldn’t stay for long. One of the neighbors lights turned on, and I knew I had to get out of there. Their judgement rests with my mother’s shrieks of terror.
Now her feelings of me have rubbed off.
Now I’m disgusted with myself.
“I envy you, Reece no-middle-name Winters.”
My fingers trace the grooves in the stone. He would be a year older than me if he were still alive, but he died last year.
My mother moved us to this small town a couple months ago in hopes that a smaller town meant fewer dead visiting in the night. But they always find me.
I stare at this headstone, at his name, and wonder what caused his death. What took him down in the prime of his life? Did he have all the experiences a teenager should have?
An image of him erupts in vivid color behind my eyes, and I pull out my sketchbook to recreate his features. His rich eyes and soft face with crinkles around the eyes.
“I wonder if we would have been friends if you were still here. Would you have taken me away from my mother? Maybe we could have left town together.”
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