I feel a sudden urge to take a hike, but my body is in no shape to walk all the way to our spot.
“Tristan?” I say, shattering the silence that formed a bubble around me.
“Yeah?”
“Does my aunt still have that ATV?” I ask, remembering her talking about the machine many years ago.
Apparently she does, because not ten minutes later I find myself seated on it in front of Tristan, who surprisingly didn’t object to taking a ride. Maybe he feels the same need I do, I wonder to myself.
The ride is slow and bump free, not jostling my broken ribs any more than absolutely necessary. The pain is bearable with the amount of medication in my system, and when we arrive at our cliff, with the lake reflecting the sunlight like a mirror, I feel an instant calmness.
This is where Tristan and I learned to share. This is where I learned to love. It’s only appropriate that this is the place I make the most important declaration of my life.
We sit, him carefully helping me place my feet over the edge of the rock structure. The sun blinds me momentarily, but my eyes soon adjust to the light. The landscape is still stunning, taking what little breath I have away for a second. It’s a crystal clear day, not a cloud in the sky. The storm from a few nights ago is nothing but a distant memory as I listen to the leaves rustling, a sweet and loving breeze causing the trees to wave at us.
“Thank you, Tristan. Thank you for saving me. For protecting me,” I say, voice showing no sign of cracking or breaking; completely and totally firm.
He puts his head in his hands, not replying. After a few minutes, I grow anxious.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, which is a stupid question because there are a number of answers.
“I pushed you, Katie. You fell and almost died because of me! I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding anguished.
I’m shocked. Misplaced guilt is tearing away at him; I can see it in his beautiful blue eyes. My heart aches at the sight of him so distressed, and I wonder if this is why he’s been so quiet and remote.
“Tristan, you saved my life. I tripped on my own two feet because I was dizzy, you didn’t push me. Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” I warn, pointing one finger at him.
He says nothing, just stares at me, his eyes roaming over my face. Whatever he finds there must be enough to satisfy him and relieve a bit of the guilt imprinted into his baby blues. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek and his thumb caresses my lower lip. I smile a little, unable to help it.
I lean over and kiss him, really kiss him, for the second time since our first kiss only a few days ago. He flinches and I pull back, forgetting about his injured lip. I open my mouth to apologize, but he closes his lips over mine before I can speak.
This kiss is much sweeter than anything before it. He touches me softly, careful not to disturb any random injuries on my body. Soon enough, I end up lying on top of him, the sun beating on my back, warming my skin through my shirt. The pressure on my ribs hurts, but I don’t care. His hands roam and so do mine as the thought of losing him shoots through my mind again, causing me to push myself closer to him, wanting to consume him.
The kiss goes from innocent to heated as the minutes pass, something I haven’t experienced in quite some time. I can feel his emotion pouring out of him, but only through his actions. There is absolutely no reminder of my punishment at all, except for the dull memories. It seems like a distant dream, my life before God. My life before Tristan. Before salvation.
A bird swoops dangerously low to our tangled bodies, and I break our kiss out of shock. He grips the back of my head and I think he’s about to pull me back in, so I just spit out what I brought him here to say.
“I love you,” I say, but it melts together with his words, the exact ones that just came from my heart to his ears. He loves me. He loves me.
I gasp as my vision suddenly cuts off, sending me spiraling down a black tunnel into nothingness.
Chapter 18
My eyes spring open and I find myself sitting on a park bench, dressed in my favorite sundress. Water laps at the rocks by the shore in front of me, and I recognize the beach from my dream; the dream where Tristan told me he loves me.
I blink, and when my eyes open, Tristan is sitting beside me. We look at one another, utterly confused but unafraid. A magnificent, familiar feeling washes over us simultaneously. My head turns without my permission towards the man standing in front of us, dressed in a turquoise robe with blonde hair and bare feet. I bow my head, instantly aware of whom the man is.
The man is God.
“Children,” he says, his voice sweeter than any sound I’ve ever heard. It’s as if every symphony ever played, every song ever written and every lyric in the universe joined together to create a most precious sound that usually falls deaf on human ears.
“Father,” Tristan and I say in unison, reveling in the warmth coming off the man who gave us a second chance at life.
“I know you’re confused, but I thank you for your faith and trust in knowing that I will help you understand,” the Lord says, grabbing my left hand and Tristan’s right. “Come, let us walk,” he says, so we walk.
The water doesn’t seem so beautiful now; it pales in comparison to the man walking between us. My entire body feels better than it ever has before, like there are no broken ribs or broken pieces of my heart. I feel utterly and completely happy.
“You have shared many lives together, children. It is against my wishes to reincarnate souls, but you are two of four exceptions. I think you know who the other two are, correct?”
I nod, knowing that he is referring to David and Sorren. The only two people in my vision that I know.
“Yes, Katherine. Sorena and David. You see, centuries ago I created your souls, fashioning you in my image and connecting you in a way only true soul mates are connected. You were meant to be all each other needed, a perfect set,” he says, leisurely walking us down a strip of deserted path.
“Every human being in the universe has at least one of these soul mates, a person who helps you become what I created you to become. They find each other before their physical life ends, and their purpose is made possible if they only tried. If they only opened their hearts to my kingdom, they would fulfill all their potential and more. You see, I am the creator of Fate; we work together and mold the future of the souls that will walk the Earth. With the help of the angels, we keep the humans happy and fulfilled.
“But, as you know, the world is no longer a place of perfection, as it was intended to be. I was betrayed, and Satan became my enemy. He works with his legion of follows to enter the realm where Fate weaves the future of my children. There, he wreaks havoc on the souls too weak to resist. It isn’t often Fate makes a mistake, but Satan is a snake and always finds ways to slither into even the smallest of holes.”
I feel the understanding wash over me, filling the gaps in my mind like a solved mystery. The Lord continues speaking and we keep walking, listening ardently.
“Human souls have a divine connection to the Realm of Fate, and when Satan enters the realm and your soul has the slightest weak moment, your earthly body is under attack. Your first lives, children, were during the time of the vision you had, Katherine. Your world was turned upside down. Tristan was framed for a child’s murder by a rogue mafia assassin.
“You and Tristan were married, Katherine. You were expecting your first child, to be a girl named Skylar, a very unique name for the era. It is not in her destiny to live a long life, because her soul is too fragile. Satan entered your Fate, children. He cursed your love with a swipe of his sword and your souls were unprepared for the attack. You have lived two lives since the original slashing of your Fates, and only now have your souls mended. You believe in me, have turned your life to my love, and that change has restored your souls to their state.
“Sorena and David for that matter have refused to join my kingdom again. David’s Fate has been lost to Satan, never again to reborn or remade. So
rena, first born Cassandra Clintock in the year 1850, is suspended in the Realm of Fate, her soul unable to make a decision. She believes enough in me to be reborn again, but only if she chooses to. Modern medicine describes her state as a coma, which I have disguised her conflict as. In actuality, her soul is trying to fight its way out of Satan’s grasp, which she has clung to so strongly in the past.
“Sorena has a kind enough soul to win the battle, but it will not be an easy task. She will have to be reborn in order to set the universe right again. You see, children, every soul has a purpose and every life lived is intertwined, adding to the future of the universe as a whole. When Satan skews Fate, the universe is thrown off kilter. This is why we have murders. This is why there are starving children and drugs and pain. Satan takes my plans and uses them against me.”
The last pieces of my broken heart click together as the mysteries that have been haunting me are solved. There are no accurate words for how I feel at this moment, but I can only hope Tristan feels this way too.
“Lastly, this will be the last you see of me until your human lives are over. I love you, my children,” God says, swinging around to face us head on. “I bless you for your faith and courage, and I am proud to be your Father. My kingdom will always be open to you, and may you rest well knowing you will enter it after this life. May you grow old together, enjoy your children and do what you are destined to accomplish. The universe is righted a little more with the healing of your hearts, and may you always know that Satan cannot touch you.”
I reach out my arms, wanting to hold the man responsible for saving me. He opens his, embracing me, filling me with light and love. Tristan does the same and we huddle together, Father and his children united once more.
“Oh, let me say one more thing. Your human minds will not remember a moment of this, or any of our meetings. Memories of your visions will be erased, all reminders of your Punishments eliminated, and your knowledge of what I just told you will not be accessible as long as you are on Earth. In your hearts, you will be content and know that I am taking care of you, but your minds will be wiped clean of any and all burdens that may have accompanied these divine visits.
“Live well, my children. You will do wonderful things. Go in peace and know that I am God, and I am waiting for you,” he says, kissing each of our foreheads before walking down the path, still facing us, never turning his back.
Tristan and I grasp hands, watching the Lord raise a staff before everything goes black.
Chapter 19
I awake from possibly the most restful nap I’ve ever had in my life. My body is sprawled across Tristan’s, lined up from chest to toes. I giggle, wondering how we ever fell asleep like this.
“Wake up, Tristan,” I coo, but that doesn’t work so I kiss him awake. His eyes spring open and the lovely light azure color brings a smile to my face.
“Hey, beautiful. I don’t remember falling asleep,” he says, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
“Me either. But I don’t really want to move right now, so can we just stay here for a while?” I say, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. The motion ignites a very slight soreness in my torso and it takes me a moment to remember my injuries. They aren’t even half as painful as Doctor Colson warned me they would be, and Tristan’s face is already healed, after only five days.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest onto my cheek, which is pressed against his heart. “I can’t remember when we fell asleep. What were we talking about?”
I struggle for a moment to regain my memory, but then the last words we spoke flash through my mind and I feel guilty for not remembering them immediately.
“You told me that you love me,” I say, pushing his hair back from his forehead, smiling. “And I told you that I love you.”
He smiles as he answers, “That’s what I thought. I just wanted to hear you say it again.”
I laugh and mock slap him, gently tapping his heavenly face with my palm. He traps it in his hand and whips me onto my back, suddenly but still gently enough not to hurt me on the rock beneath us. His lips find mine and his hands move over every line of my body as he kisses me beneath the sun, which shines brighter than I’ve ever seen before, lighting my world with its warm rays.
I feel unlike I ever have before: capable of anything and totally free. My burdens over David’s attack are nonexistent and I’m not sure why, but something tells me not to dwell on facts. Call it divine intervention, a sixth-sense, whatever you want… but all I know is that I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
Chapter 21
The rest of the year at Shields Valley High School went by without a hitch: I made honor roll, made lots of friends and completely remade my reputation. Tristan joined the lacrosse team in the spring, earning him a scholarship to Northwestern University and back into the good graces of the entire community.
David was charged with six counts of murder and three attempted murders, and a death sentence was served, bringing peace of mind to everyone in the saddest possible way. It’s heartbreaking to see a life so consumed by evil that they must be put to death, but it’s for the best I assume. I no longer refer to David as “my brother,” and his sentence was far easier to bear than I would have ever thought.
Yes, our small town was shocked for a few weeks, unsure of what to do with all the media attention. My classmates were shaken by the fact that one of their own peers was the sister of a now notorious killer, but the whispers and concerned looks stopped after a few months. My mother moved back to Chicago, but she and I maintain weekly contact, mending our relationship one step at a time. She dealt with the death of my father fairly well, knowing he couldn’t hurt her or their daughter anymore. I am frequently saddened by the way his life turned out, but something tells me I have no reason to mourn.
Sorren is still in a coma, living with the assistance of a machine, unable to survive on her own. Doctors have told us that coma patients have been some of the most miraculous recoveries in the medicine world, but I know it’s up to her. Sorren is strong enough to pull through, so I’ll always be waiting for my friend. I will never forget her and I think of her every day. She’s in every prayer I whisper and every hymn I sing, but there is a peace in my heart for no reason, forbidding me to be depressed over her situation.
“Ready?” a voice says from behind me, muscular arms wrapping around me.
I sigh, placing my hands over his. “Yes,” I say, stretching my neck up to kiss his chin, hovering just above my shoulder.
“Then let’s go, angel,” Tristan says, pulling me towards the door of his apartment, where I stayed last night, only after reassuring my aunt that Tristan would sleep on the couch. Being trusted feels wonderful. Being legally eighteen feels even better.
“Why did you ever start calling me that?” I ask as we hop in his truck, carefully tucking our robes inside the doors.
He chuckles, grabbing my hand as we pull onto the street. “I have no idea, but you’re so perfect, I can only assume you’re heaven sent,” he jokes, winking, which makes me laugh and mock-punch him in the side.
We pull up to the school that has been my home for the past eight months and sit in the truck, reflecting on what was probably the craziest year of our lives. We both miraculously survived attempted suicides, but I can’t even remember what possessed me to try to kill myself. That was a time in my life that apparently dragged me so far under water that I blocked it out completely. Aunt Rachel tells me that things like “mental block” happen a lot to trauma patients, but here’s my theory: God gave me a chance to start anew, making my bad memories hazy and giving me a completely new slate. What makes me special enough to deserve that, I have no idea. But thanks to my faith, I have a constant feeling that everything is going to be alright.
Times speeds up and before I know it, we’re standing on the stage. Tristan is standing in front of me, as we are lined up alphabetically, and he is next to be called by Vice Principal Nicholson.
Miss. Nicho
lson speaks, her voice blasting through the speakers for the whole town to hear. “Tristan Presidio, graduate with honors, member of the National Honors Society, and recipient of the Presidential Alumni Scholarship to Northwestern University in Illinois where he will be studying engineering.”
The clapping in the room is thunderous, the town celebrating the walking miracle that is Tristan Presidio. Tears fill my eyes and a wave of thoughts flood my head. What if we had never met? Fate is what brought us together, I’m sure of it. If I had never met Tristan, my faith wouldn’t be as strong as it is now. My faith wouldn’t have had the power to bring me out of the darkness that seemed so constant.
I wouldn’t be the person I am now if it weren’t for the hardships in my life. I have survived abuse, suicide, emotional torment and a hostage situation, all in a span of eighteen years. I have been kicked, bruised, broken, and had my heart shattered into a million pieces by the people that should have meant the most to me.
I was weak, but now I am strong. I was alone, now I have a family. I was empty, but now I am filled. It took death, destruction and heartache to get me to where I am, but I am proud of the person I have become.
“Katherine Prince, graduate with advanced honors, member of the National Honors Society, and recipient of the Susan Caputi Scholarship to Northwestern University in Illinois, where she will be studying psychology,” says Miss. Nicholson.
The steps towards my principal seem to take a lifetime, but once I’m there, I feel as if everything is happening at warped-speed. Clapping fills the auditorium and I spot my mother and Aunt Rachel snapping pictures in the third row. I descend the stairs and impatiently wait until they finish calling students.
“Congratulations to the class of 2014. Live well, pupils. I have no doubt you will do wonderful things,” our principal announces, and the sentiment feels achingly familiar.
Pieces of a Mending Heart Page 19