Don't Look Back
Page 17
I turn to the right, immediately feeling disconnected from Matthew, as if I have fallen off the track, somehow derailed. With each step I take toward the coffee shop, I feel the pull grow weaker as Matthew slips away.
I see Allie and Dave sitting at a table, both on their phones, unaware of my arrival. I am reminded of my typical life, and the reality slaps me brutally across the face. As I approach them, Allie is first to notice me, and she smiles, pulling out one of her ear buds. My heart lightens a little at the sight of her, my beautiful baby girl. I swallow hard.
“Hey, Mom.” She jumps out of her seat, grabbing her large iced coffee drink. “How was your trip?” Allie wraps her arms around me, her teenage coolness lost for a rare moment.
“It was great, honey,” I reply, hugging her tightly back. I am trying to disguise my raw emotions, hanging onto my daughter for strength before she pulls away from me. “I’m extremely tired.” I swallow hard again.
Dave steps to the side and takes my suitcase and bags, our hands touching briefly during the exchange. “How was your flight?” he asks, making polite conversation.
“Best flight I’ve ever had,” I reply numbly. He will never know the truth of these words.
“Do you need anything before we get on the road?” He motions toward the ladies’ room on the right.
“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go.”
Dave walks ahead, leading the way by a few steps; Allie tucks her ear bud back in and follows a couple of steps behind him, sucking on her straw, teenage persona returned. I take a step forward, but something within me is fighting me. I cannot honor my last promise to Matthew; I do not have the will or the strength, and so, surrendering, I turn my head back toward the terminal as I move to the exit doors.
He is leaning against the wall by the end of the ramp, his arms crossed over his chest, his sunglasses covering his eyes. I cannot read his expression, as it is a blank canvas; he stares in the direction where I am standing, where I greeted my family moments ago. I am frozen, paralyzed. My lungs ache as if they have collapsed, and my heart is crushed; it feels as though it has stopped beating in my chest. He raises his hand to his lips, and in slow motion, he blows a kiss my way. Everything becomes blurry as tears fill my eyes and cascade down my face. My windpipe burns as my throat constricts, my chin quivers uncontrollably, and my chest convulses. Agony sears through my body, engulfing me, as though my soul is being ripped from its roots.
“Mom!” Allie’s irritated voice jolts me, snapping me away from him. “Are you coming?” she persists, her tone sarcastic.
“Yes, of course,” I reply, wiping my tears, hoping she doesn’t notice them.
I search over my shoulder one final time, but Matthew is gone.
EPILOGUE
The sun against my skin feels delightful; it is a true luxury of the English summertime. As the bright white glow radiates through my closed eyelids, it casts a warmth that expands through my body. My hair flutters softly in the breeze, and I can hear the rustling of the ancient oak tree that stands majestically above me as I lie peacefully on the grassy embankment of the park hillside, enjoying a precious moment alone.
St. James Park is one of my favorite London quiet spots, a lush oasis in the middle of a bustling city. I have fond memories here, many fond memories, and for a brief moment, my heart aches that familiar ache of having loved and lost.
I hear laughter in the distance; familiar giggles and screams grow closer. Sensing the end of my tranquility, I sit up, wrapping my arms around my knees, enjoying the scene playing out before me. Allie, now a stunning sixteen-year-old, is trotting up the hill from the pond, zigzagging back and forth. A few steps ahead of her, her little brother runs, exerting all his toddler strength, desperately clasping his new orange ball against his chest. His deep brown curls bounce energetically, and his golden brown eyes are wide and full of delight as he squeals, thrilled at their game of chase. Seeing them fills my heart so completely that the ache from a moment ago dissolves and is forgotten.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nicola Graham, the mother of two, lives in Southern California with her husband. British by birth, she immigrated to the United States as a young teenager in the early 1980s. She has always flirted with writing poetry and lyrics. Don’t Look Back is her first book.