Destined

by Bella Emy

  I gasp. “Kiss me? Gary, we are nowhere near that stage yet.”

  “Mhmm. Yet. And, honey, you think he’s inviting you to this big thing for milk and cookies… well, come to think of it, he does want cookies… yours! Ha ha!” He bursts out laughing.

  “Gary!” I scold as a chuckle escapes me. I can’t believe how insanely blunt he is; he always is.

  “Just stating the truth, honey girl. Night, night!”

  And with that, I’m met by the dial tone as Gary has hung up the phone. My head drops in front of me, and I giggle to myself.

  About an hour later, I find myself at the entrance of the theatre handing the ticket to the ticket collector that Grayson had given me to his event. As he takes it from me, he looks it over before handing me a program and directing me to the direction of the hall. I walk into the theatre as low lights surround a bright spotlight that is focused on the middle of the stage where a solitaire piano sits. People are scurrying around, looking for their seats. Mine is in the sixth row, and once I locate the number of my chair, I remove my coat and take my seat.

  There’s still about twenty minutes to go before the show starts. I put my ticket stub into the side pocket of my handbag and then proceed to pull out my cell phone. I snap a few pictures of the theatre, zooming in on the lone piano on the stage. I imagine how handsome Grayson will look once he sits on the bench and plays the beautiful melody I know he is capable of.

  I skim through the list of names on the programs and see Grayson will be coming out third. His song, A Kiss at Night in the Snow, is an original piece written by him. Wow. I didn’t know he wrote his own music as well.

  Almost exactly twenty minutes later, an announcer with a silver microphone walks out onto the stage, thanking us all for being here tonight. He runs down the list of performers, confirming Grayson as being number three out of twelve, and then tells us to enjoy the show. A loud round of applause breaks out in the audience. As the show begins, a young woman around the age of twenty-five or so with ash-blonde hair pulled back into a braid walks out onto the stage carrying a violin. An older gentleman carries a red cushioned chair for her and places it in the middle of the stage; the piano is directly behind her. As she takes her seat, he leaves the stage. The lights in the auditorium finally turn off; the bright glow of the spotlight is the only light that remains. As she begins playing, a deafening silence in the crowd emerges.

  The song, a sad Christmas melody, fills the concert hall, while the woman’s head tilts to and fro as she plays. I close my eyes and picture the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center where Luis and I had been the year before he died. The sad melody of the song portrays exactly how I feel every time I think about our last Christmas together. A single tear falls from my eye as the music continues to move me.

  As the young woman finishes her tune, boisterous cheers and applause erupt once more from the audience. I join in with more than half of the crowd and rise as she courtesies and smiles brightly. Once she exits stage left, the next performer, an older gentleman carrying a saxophone takes center stage. His tune fills the amphitheater for a total of seven minutes before the audience once again religiously breaks out in applause.

  And then, as he takes his bow and leaves the stage, Grayson Ramsey walks out and takes a seat at the piano. He’s dressed in an all-black, elegant, vested three-piece suit, fitting him like a model for a Men’s Wearhouse advertisement. I swallow the large lump that has formed in my throat and can’t peel my eyes away from the gorgeous specimen that is Grayson. In an instant, his fingers slam down on the black and white keys of the piano, and before I know it, I’m being taken away by the beautiful melody of his song. The original piece he has written leaves me speechless by the time he stands up and takes a bow for the audience. I rise up and applaud proudly for this wonderful man who in a matter of a few days has become a dear friend of mine. Our gazes meet and then I notice a small smile grace his face. I smile back at him and nod my head. I mouth the word, “Wow,” to him and now he’s the one nodding at me.

  After the show is over, I wait for Grayson in the lobby as the performers come out one by one to meet up with their family and friends. Once he spots me, he eagerly makes his way over.

  “Hey, Ana. I’m so glad you made it,” he says, placing a hand on the small of my back and leaning in to kiss me on the forehead. Innocent, but just enough to send goosebumps dancing up and down my spine.

  “Of course, I made it. I told you I would be here. Congratulations, by the way. That was a beautiful song.”

  He offers me a kind smile and replies, “Thank you. Are you hungry at all?”

  I giggle. “I usually am.”

  He chuckles in response. “Great, me too. How about you join me for a bite?”

  “I’d love to.”

  We head out to a semi-formal Italian restaurant in the heart of London about fifteen minutes from the theater. Soft music plays in the background while families gather around bowls of spaghetti and meatballs drenched in marinara sauce, fried calamari, and other various Italian dishes.

  “So, I just want to thank you again for coming to my performance tonight. It’s nice to have someone in the audience specifically for me, waiting to hear me play,” Grayson says after swallowing a mouthful of red wine. We have just finished indulging in our own exquisite dishes of pasta and red sauce over a perfectly grilled and seasoned piece of chicken.

  Amidst it all, I had forgotten that he had left everything behind back home and made this his new one. Of course, he had no one here who ever went to hear him play at his events and performances. I’m suddenly so glad I decided to go. It must be awfully lonely to never have anyone around. Sure, I am all alone here now as well… well, sort of. I’ve been spending more time than I could have ever imagined with Grayson. But back home, I had my family and Gary. I wasn’t always alone. I’m sure it must get to you after so long. Four years with no one to really spend time with had to be brutal, even if at times it’s all you crave.

  “It was wonderful. I really enjoyed the show. Your song was so beautiful, and you were absolutely fantastic,” I say, and then pick up my glass to take a sip of my drink. The wine flows easily down my throat.

  He looks at me with the most adorning smile, saying, “Thanks again, pretty lady.”

  I can feel my cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink, warming my face. A tingling sensation races up and down my body, and the butterflies in my tummy flutter around aimlessly. I’m blushing and pleasantly taken by his sweet, innocent comment. “You’re welcome,” is all I manage to say with a straight face. I’m utterly embarrassed not knowing how to act. I hadn’t received a compliment like that from anyone besides Luis in years. Grayson can probably tell I’m feeling uneasy. I’m probably a nervous wreck right now, but at the same time, it feels nice to know someone finds me pretty.

  Unless he’s just being nice? But something about the way we are when we’re together tells me that maybe, just maybe, he might be more than just being nice to me. Something in the way he looks at me and talks to me tells me that he must really find me… nice to look at? Ugh! I don’t know, but if I don’t relax a bit, I’m going to make a complete fool of myself… I just know it.

  I lift my glass once more, and this time, take a huge gulp. He quietly chuckles, looking down.

  I can’t help but giggle as I’m swallowing, coughing and making some of the wine come spurting out from the corners of my mouth. “Oh my goodness, I’m such a mess!” I say, wiping my mouth with the white cloth napkin that had been sitting on my lap.

  “Are you okay, Ana?” he asks with genuine concern gracing his face.

  “Yes, yes. I’m fine, thank you. I’m just like a two-year-old… can’t take me anywhere fancy,” I say jokingly, hoping to take the pressure off of myself for acting like a total moron.

  “Good, because I’d really prefer to show you how I usually spend Christmas Eve.”

  “Huh?” I ask, lost as all hell.

  He hands his signed bill over
to the waiter, and we rise from our seats. I put on my coat as he tips his head at the waiter and then comes to my side of the table, placing a hand on the small of my back. There’s no need to mention that even though it’s not skin-to-skin contact, the thought of his hands on me are lighting a fire within me that had been extinguished so long ago.

  We walk out of the restaurant and a chilly London air hits our cheeks. I rub my hands together, attempting to warm up. The pretty Christmas decorations line the streets as we come to a row of benches in a park facing an ice-skating rink. Ice skaters of all ages spin and gracefully twirl around as melodious Christmas music can be heard blaring from a nearby speaker. We stop at the edge of its entrance and look out at the skaters.

  Turning to face me, he says, “I don’t remember the last time I spent Christmas with someone I was so fond of.”

  I turn my head to face him and look at him like he’s got two heads coming out from his neck. “What are you talking about?”

  “You, Anabelle. I’m talking about you. You’ve been wonderful to get to know,” he admits.

  “So have you,” I confess. It’s true. I’ve enjoyed his company more than I could have ever imagined.

  He then takes my hands in his; they are tiny sitting in his large palms. “Back at the restaurant, I was trying to say that I’m really not all about the fancy glitz and glam holiday meals. I’d love to show you how I usually spend the day. Christmas Eve…”

  “Oh,” I say, not sure where this is going, but having a feeling he is about to ask me out again. Maybe this time it will be a casual sit-down place. I brace myself for what’s inevitably about to come: another invitation.

  “Spend Christmas Eve with me at my place. Please? I’ll cook us a generous meal, and we’ll, hopefully, enjoy a relaxing environment. You can even come in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers! No dressing up all fancy is necessary… although, you do look amazing tonight. More so than ever before… if that’s even possible.”

  I blush once more. He knows exactly what to say to send my heart beating at the speed of light. He leans in a bit closer, I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. He grabs the left side of my face in his hand while the other wraps tightly around my waist, and I’m suddenly floating on cloud nine, wrapped up in the rapture that is Grayson. “What do you say, Ana? Spend Christmas Eve with me...” he whispers in a sultry voice, his lips mere inches away from mine.

  I can feel the warmth of his breath caressing my lips, teasing me. God, what is happening to me? I want to know what those plump luscious lips feel like brushing against mine…

  Is that wrong? Is it wrong that I wouldn’t mind kissing him right now? Actually, “wouldn’t mind” is not the correct feeling I have inside. I want to… I want to kiss him.

  A delicate snowfall begins to come down from the heavens, creating the most picturesque scene. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect ending to an already perfect evening.

  “I… I…” I can’t think of much else to say. I want to accept, but I’m completely speechless right now from the magnetic pull forcing us to become closer to one another. I don’t have a chance to even think about how to form the words to accept his proposal, because before I can register what is happening, he is smashing his lips sweetly into mine.

  My eyes instantly close, savoring the taste of him. Good Lord. I don’t even try to pull away from his mouth against mine. Instead, I welcome it as I give in to every demand he is requesting of me with this one simple kiss. We stand there kissing while the rest of the world goes about their business not even noticing us.

  I want more. I need more. I haven’t felt like this in so very long, but I’m loving the way Grayson’s lips feel on mine. I become hungry, yearning for more, so much so that I take the plunge and open my mouth to allow him access to deepen the kiss if he so wishes. Not missing a beat, he opens his lips as well, letting his tongue find mine. The way our tongues entwine with one another causes a pool to form in my panties.

  When we finally pull away, I open my eyes to find him totally indulged in my very being. The way his eyes are looking deeply into mine, the way his hands are holding on to me so tightly, I can feel myself caving in to this man. Suddenly, he offers me the sweetest smile with the most affectionate chuckle to go along with it. “Is that a yes, Dr. Davidson?” he inquires.

  I feel myself relax, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel guilty about the possibility of finding love again without my precious Luis.

  “It’s a definite hell yes.” I smile back, but only momentarily before our lips find their way back to one another. We spend almost another good hour making out in front of the ice-skating rink with the lightly falling snow crashing down all around us.

  Come to think of it, maybe I could have asked for a more perfect ending to an already incredibly wonderful evening, and here it is.

  6

  “I’m telling you, Gar, I don’t know what it is, but something about him makes my insides turn to mush. I’m really enjoying spending time with him,” I reveal to Gary as I’m standing wrapped up in a towel in front of the closet, looking for something suitable to wear. It’s Christmas Eve and I’ll be taking an Uber to Grayson’s in just a few short hours.

  “Mhmm. It sure does from the sound of that face sucking,” he chuckles.

  I can’t help but giggle along with him before turning serious once more. I turn away from the closet and plop my ass on the bed with a pout, letting out a deep sigh.

  “Uh-oh, honey. I know the sound of that exhale. What is it, suga?”

  I slump my shoulders and look out toward the window facing the front of the hotel. The sky is gray and looks like another snowfall is heading this way. “I don’t know… am I wrong for all of this?”

  “All of what, exactly, sweetie? Enjoying life after four years of torturing yourself? Pah-leez, girlfriend! Do you honestly think Luis would want you to stop living your life just because his own ended? Yes, it’s sad, but sweetheart, it’s been four years… four long and treacherous years. You’ve tortured yourself enough. Trust me when I tell you that Luis would want you to be happy. He wouldn’t want you to stop living because he did. He had no choice in the matter, but you do!”

  I take a moment to think over what Gary just said. Of course, he’s right. Luis would never want me to stop living my life. He’d want me to be happy and enjoy it. If I were in his shoes, I’d want the same for him. Yes, it’s sad. Yes, it practically killed me inside. But I know the time has come to pick myself up off the ground and move forward. I’ve spent the last four years grieving the death of my husband and forgetting to live my life. If he can see me from heaven, I know he’ll be frowning down at me, knowing I never bounced back from that tragedy. And yes, Luis had no choice in the matter. He passed away, that’s why his life ended. Me, I’ve been choosing to stop living.

  “Gary, you’re right. Luis would want me to be happy. He loved me so much and would want to see me smiling again. I know I would if the situation were reversed.”

  “Of course, I’m right, pumpkin. Now, stop moping around and get ready for a wonderful evening with this stunning young man. Don’t ever doubt that Luis would be proud of you for taking these steps toward your new life. Merry Christmas, bestie.”

  “Merry Christmas, love,” I respond, and Gary sends me an air-kiss.

  We hang up, and I rise from the bed and walk over to the window. Once again, the crowded London streets hustle and bustle about on this holy day. I let out another deep breath and look up at the sky. “I’ll love you forever, babe. Thank you for all the wonderful years you gave me. I will treasure them for the rest of my life, no matter what or who comes my way.”

  “My, you look beautiful, Ana,” Grayson states once he’s opened the door to his apartment. I had arrived no more than two minutes ago and rang his bell as soon as I had. Quickly coming to answer, he had greeted me in a gray sweater with a black zipper starting at mid-chest, which he left open; a white T-shirt sat underneath. I had also settl
ed for one of my comfy pairs of jeans topped with a red long-sleeved blouse. The neckline isn’t that low-cut, but it’s revealing enough to let his imagination run wild.

  “Thank you,” I respond with flushed cheeks.

  He steps out of the way and motions for me to enter his home. “Please, come in and make yourself at home,” he says.

  I smile and walk into his cute bachelor pad. The first room I step foot inside is a living room no doubt with a white grand piano off to the left side. A three-seater sofa sits in the middle of the room, positioned in front of a large television set hanging on the wall. The room is painted a soft-beige, off-setting the rest of the dark-colored furniture nicely.

  He walks in behind me and shuts the door. “Here, let me take your coat,” he says as I take off my gloves and place them inside of my black pea-coat before handing it to him.

  “Thanks,” I reply and continue observing my surroundings.

  “Dinner will be ready in just about twenty minutes, please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” He stops and his eyes roam over me.

  Excitement floods inside of me as I feel his stare on me. I so desperately want to kiss this amazing man once again.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just wait for dinner. Thank you,” I cordially decline.

  He smiles. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He hangs my coat on the rack to the right of the door and walks out of the room.

  I walk around and head over to the fireplace crackling quietly. On top are knickknacks and some photographs of him and what I assume to be his family and friends. One photograph of a little girl no more than three years old strikes me. She is beautiful, with shimmering green eyes and two blonde pigtails on each side of her head.

  I hear his soft footsteps as he walks back into the room. He’s carrying two crystal flutes filled halfway with see-through pale yellow liquid. I turn around, and he’s already smiling at me once more. “I know you said no, but I felt it would be rude to drink alone.”