Eight Goodbyes

by Christine Brae

  “Yes! Yes! That is the point. Love is the first step. All this can follow.”

  “Love doesn’t erase the memories of the past. Love doesn’t change the reality that I’m a part of your loss. And I can’t compete with what happened,” he says, voice raised, his eyes darkening. Ominous, a foreboding of the pain to come.

  To her, he is Greece. He is the sea and the sky.

  He is Ciel’s father. How does she tell him?

  She tries, but all she can see is his pain. She tries to ease it with her words. “But—I want to move on. I just don’t know how,” she insists. “How can I leave it behind if I don’t know what happened?”

  He hugs himself as his face goes slack. “Do you remember the first time I met you? Here? I feel that way today. I couldn’t wait to hold you. And yet, I’m unsure. Unsure of the path we should be taking. After what happened, to you, to me, I don’t know if that’s even reparable.”

  “I think it is.” She says this with conviction. She doesn’t turn away from him—she returns his stare, his gaze. She doesn’t retreat or cower even though he is leaving her.

  Once he leaves, he’s never coming back.

  “My girl with her head in the clouds,” he says with a sad smile. His eyes don’t change their shape; they take a stand against displaying any emotion despite his upturned lips.

  “Am I still your girl, Simon?”

  “My god Tessa, do you know what you did to me? You turned me from someone who’d taken love for granted to someone who was hopelessly in it. My actions, my words, never have I ever been that way with another person. You showed me what it was like to truly live.”

  “But I—”

  He stops her by shaking his head. “I miss that. But at the same time, it’s no longer the kind of life I can have.”

  “I’ve changed. I don’t float around anymore.”

  “I loved the floating you,” he teases. “You brought me along to coast right next to you.”

  Tears fill her eyes. She wonders whether he notices because he looks away. “I missed you so much.”

  “That’s hard to believe, Tessa.”

  “I did, Simon. I did. But I had other things in my life requiring my time and attention.”

  “Like what? Enlighten me.” She hears the undeniable resentment in his tone.

  “Just life. I shut off completely and tried my best to live in the moment. It wasn’t until the day you called that I felt strong enough to try to remember.”

  She watches as he slowly inches forward, and then backward. How he holds his hands firmly on his lap, how he refuses to blink, how his lips begin to quiver.

  “It’s funny, you know. When we were together, I hated saying goodbye. And you promised me once it would never happen. In Paris.” His voice cracks. He squeezes his eyes shut. She sees the lines on his face. They do nothing to diminish its majesty.

  “Simon.”

  He rubs his chest. “In Paris. They transferred you and refused to tell me where you were. It felt like death to me. You see, Tessa. I had a loss too.”

  She doesn’t understand why he says this. But his pain is indisputable. And she can’t take it. “Simon!” she cries freely, allowing her tears to flow. “Simon, please!”

  She stands up and moves toward him, settling in his lap, her arms tight around his shoulders. He pulls her in like a barrier coming up, protecting her from all the pain she’s ever felt.

  “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  “I’m sorry too,” he says, crying. They are suffocated by hopelessness; there is no redemption. Too much time has passed, too many things have come between them. Tragedy has a way of tearing the human heart apart. It’s the people left behind who really die.

  They swim in their emotion, leaving the silence to save them from drowning. Minutes pass until the sobbing subsides and all they can hear is a sniffle or two, and lots of deep breaths.

  He exhales loudly before gently lifting her and settling her on the cushion next to him.

  She swipes her face with her hands and looks up at him. “No.”

  “I have to go, Tess.”

  “No, please, Simon. Please hear me out.” She clings to his arm, grips it tightly, digging into his skin. “Even if I’d lived with loss since I was fourteen years old, I always had Jacob. He handled the loss of our parents so differently. He loved more, while I loved less. When he died, I realized I wasted so much time regretting what I’d lost instead of appreciating what I had. And now I’m asking for another chance. I’ll take a second. A minute. An hour. A day. With you, I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”

  He shakes his head and pulls his arm away and holds it close to his body. His shoulders hike up, he folds into himself. Like he’s repulsed by her touch.

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. It’s time to move on. You are right. Life is short, we have to make the most out of it.”

  He disappears into the night without that familiar goodbye.

  Like fog, like smoke, like a snowflake so beautiful and soft and light, it melts away after you touch it.

  She’d touched him, he was there. But now he’s gone.

  “Jesus! You’re the only one I’ve ever known to run and talk at the same time! I don’t know how you do it,” Riley says.

  In the background, Tessa can hear laughter and the banging of pots and pans.

  “Practice,” she answers, each stride hitting the pavement, her pace steady, her breathing in check “How’s my baby?”

  “Can you hear them? Liam is making pancakes and she’s banging the rolling pin on the strainer. My husband is doing a monkey dance. He’s lost it.”

  Change of venue. Today she’s running along the Hudson, starting out at the West Village, intent on ending at Battery Park.

  She had made a conscious effort to stay as far away from Midtown as possible. Owen had warned her about certain triggers. Best to avoid them as he didn’t want her to regress.

  “Are you there, Tess?”

  “Sorry, so many cyclists, I need to pay extra attention. It got busy all of a sudden,” she breathes into the mouthpiece. “I’m slowing down, hold on.”

  She hits the stop button on her watch and looks for a bench to take a break. “Okay, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can,” Riley answers. “How was it? The run?”

  “Great. It’s a pretty clear day. You know I love this route. It’s beautiful. Although there was a boatload of people by Chelsea Piers this morning. Maybe a tour of some sort.”

  Tessa takes a gulp from her water bottle and wipes her face with her shirt.

  “That place is like your second home. Oh hey, wait, Ciel, say hi to Mama!”

  “Hi Ciely!”

  Riley is back on the phone. “Oops, she just walked away.”

  Tessa laughs. “That’s my daughter. Always on the go.” She catches her breath when she hears herself say that. “So, she’s good?”

  “Yeah, she’s been sleeping really well too. And you, how are you holding up?”

  “Well, the good news is I don’t think about him every hour anymore. The bad news is I still think about him at least once a day.” She stretches out and does a number four, knees folded, hips on the ground.

  She still sees him every day in the eyes of her daughter.

  “That’s normal. It’s still fresh. You’re grieving. It will get easier, Tess.”

  “I suppose. I did start to write again, though. The other night, I just whipped out my notebook and wrote his last words to me. I want to build a story around it,” she says.

  What she doesn’t dare to say is she wants to write about how love can evaporate in an instant. How loss can overshadow every happy memory, how it cripples, how it kills.

  Riley doesn’t need to hear this. She’s lived it.

  “I have to let him go,” she sobbed as Riley held her the night she arrived from Las Vegas three weeks earlier. She’s d
etermined to remain strong despite the days when the tears still come, and the pain feels oppressive and punishing.

  You think it’s the end of the world, but really, it’s just the end.

  “That’s good! So how long do you have to be there?”

  “I’ll be home in two days. The meeting with Harper Collins is this afternoon,” Tessa says.

  “The Lionel and Carissa Part Two meeting?” Riley teases.

  “Yeah, they want me to make things right between them,” she says. “Anyway, tomorrow night we have a little get together at Nobu and then I’ll be flying out at 8 a.m. the next day. Should be in Chicago by 11 a.m.”

  “Okay, take your time. And be safe.”

  “Thanks, Rye, for always being here for me. For taking Ciely, too. I love you. I’m going to make myself better, I promise.”

  She walks around in circles, trying to avoid the birds that have settled next to her.

  “Love you too, babe! Go get ‘em! You’re writing again. Best news ever.”

  Tessa ends the call just as a giant pigeon perches right next to her, its scrawny little feet clinging to the rusty arm rail. She swears his head is bigger than her hand.

  She springs up and walks away, back in the direction of her hotel. She’s got a few hours to stay by the pool before having to get ready for her meeting.

  The signs of summer are all around her. Joggers, bikers, swimmers, worshiping the heat and the humid air. She thinks about the winter months, when she’d heard from Simon for the first time after three years. And how far she’s come since then. And although she doesn’t regret searching for him, finding him, telling him how much she loves him, she’s thankful for the warmth of the sun and signs of life blossoming all around her.

  Summertime at any of New York’s rooftop bars is the season to see and be seen. When Tessa and Revete decide to celebrate with a drink at 230 5th, little do they know everyone else has the same idea. Luckily, or unluckily, they are able to squeeze into an Adirondack bench with Adam, Jerry and Marco—three investment bankers from Blackstone.

  “I still can’t believe how you pulled it off,” Tessa raises her glass to Revete. “Cheers.”

  “Don’t thank me. They wanted you so badly they knew they had to make concessions. Where are you going, by the way?”

  Tessa takes a sip of her Moscato. “Next week, Paris, and then I just want to stay home in Chicago to tie up loose ends.” She turns away from Adam, who’s been trying to get her attention. “I figured it would probably take me another six months to finish the draft. Stamping takes a few more months and then the first round of edits. Signing the agreement for a period of eighteen months should be plenty of time for me.”

  “This is good for you, the break, the writing,” Revete says, taking Tessa’s hand and squeezing it. Everyone’s been too benignant lately. She could embezzle, cheat and steal all in the name of a broken heart and they would look the other way. Revete drops her hand hastily just as her phone buzzes with a message.

  “Who is it?” Tessa asks, leaning sideways, curious.

  “Oh, it’s Roman. He’s checking in from school,” Revete says, without directly addressing her, speed typing first and then immediately throwing her phone back into her purse.

  “At this time? Did he go somewhere after school?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll ask him later,” Revete says, reaching out for her glass and then turning to Marco. “So, Marco, tell us, are you a native New Yorker?”

  Leave it to her agent to indulge everyone in conversation. The guys begin to weigh in about New York, their jobs, where they live, where they go to hang out. All three are NYU alumni, enjoying the single life, sharing a penthouse in Manhattan. They flaunt that fact a few times.

  Adam has taken an interest in her. She knows this because he doesn’t pay attention to what the others are saying. His head is constantly moving as he turns to her and unleashes a litany of pick-up lines.

  “So, what brings you guys to New York?”

  “You are definitely the prettiest girl here tonight.”

  “What do you say we go for a cigarette? We can ditch these guys for a few minutes.”

  Tessa is bored. She looks around and notices how beautiful the flower boxes are, violets, peonies and hydrangeas. How fake the palm trees look. She wonders how the shrubs have grown so thick in just a matter of weeks. Did they transplant those to line the barriers? Are peonies perennials? She should ask Riley when she gets home.

  She cranes her neck to see what the people next to her are eating, thinks about ordering some chicken nuggets and tempura vegetables. And then a few feet in front of her, a dark-haired woman is dancing in the arms of a tall, blond haired man. They remind her of Jake and Riley, professional, stoic doctor by day and big ball of mush by night. Next to them, looking lost and alone, is a man with sandy brown hair and the saddest blue eyes. His hair looks just like Simon’s except it hasn’t been cut in a while. His beard is scruffy, thick and unkempt, and he is wearing jeans and sneakers. Nothing like the business types trolling the place tonight. But his presence draws her to him. He is stunning.

  “Adam,” Tessa says, patting him on the shoulder. “I think I’m ready for that cigarette now.”

  Revete looks up at her and shakes her head. “Tessa.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I also want to call Ciely to say goodnight.”

  Tessa stands, squeezes her way between the maze of outdoor chairs and walks toward the outer part of the bar. Adam smiles at his friends and follows behind.

  They meet in a secluded corner facing the view of the Empire State building. It’s strangely dark and empty. She chalks it up to the diminishing number of smokers in the city. Adam gives her a cigarette and a lighter and cups her hand to shelter the fire from the wind. They talk about the view from where they stand. He tells her some interesting facts about the Empire State Building, standing tall and illuminating the sky. That it was built in a year and forty-five days. That it cost forty million dollars to construct. That it briefly regained its “Tallest Building in New York” status after the downing of the Twin Towers in 2001. That since 2012, the One World Trade Center has eclipsed its designation. And then they venture into movie trivia and talk about the three movies filmed in that location.

  “Name your favorite movie,” Adam challenges.

  Doesn’t he know she’s the queen of pop culture? Her brother had a thing for board games. While in Paris, they’d lost a game of Trivial Pursuit to Jake and Riley. At least the happy, insignificant memories managed to stay in her mind.

  “An Affair to Remember,” she declares without missing a beat.

  “Nice. I’m impressed,” whispers Adam, taking one step, two steps, three steps, toward her. “Tessa, I’m so attracted to you.”

  Tessa ducks as he tips his head to try to kiss her. “I think we should be heading back. Revete wants to leave soon.”

  She doesn’t wait for an answer. Tessa plods away and resurfaces back where she left the rest of the group. Except there’s that same man standing next to her friend.

  “Simon?” The inexplicable pull deciphered.

  “Tess. Hi.” He steps forward and extends his arms to her. She steps back. Immediately, he runs his hand through his hair and draws a deep breath.

  “How did you—” Tessa glances at Revete and then at him.

  Revete throws her arms in the air. “What can I say? I told him where we were. He’s been trying to reach you since this afternoon.”

  By this time, the three men have scampered away, moving on to more accessible conquests.

  “Please, Tess. Can we talk?”

  “I don’t understand. I. You—”

  Tessa covers her mouth and shakes her head. What did he intend to do? Engage in useless talk, make her beg again, like she had just weeks ago?

  “Please. Can we talk?” he repeats.

  Revete steps in between them. “I’m going to leave you t
wo alone. It’s getting late and we have an early flight tomorrow. Tessa, I’ll meet you in the lobby at six. We have to be at La Guardia by seven.”

  Before Tessa could argue, Revete is gone. Simon gently steers her by her elbow toward a table for two underneath the fake looking palm trees.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asks, just as soon as he pulls the chair for her.

  Tessa nods. He leaves to go to the bar. She sends Riley a text message.

  TESSA: Can’t call yet, sorry. We were at 230 5th and Simon shows up!

  RILEY: Simon? What’s he doing there? From Minnesota?

  TESSA: Don’t know. Says he wants to talk.

  RILEY: Are you okay?

  TESSA: He went to get me a drink. I need it LOL. Don’t worry. All cried out.

  RILEY: :(

  TESSA: Please kiss my baby for me. Tell her I love her, and I’ll be home tomorrow.

  RILEY: I already did. Love you. Be strong.

  TESSA: xoxo

  She slips her phone back in her purse just as he lays the drinks on the table. “They’re out of Moscato so I hope a Bellini is okay.”

  She nods.

  “Cheers,” he says, raising his whiskey glass up to her.

  She doesn’t return the gesture. Instead, she stares at him, hands on lap, expressionless. “What is it you want to talk to me about, Simon?”

  He places both hands on the round mesh table. “Tess, I’m sorry for what I did, what I said to you in Vegas. These past few weeks, I’ve been trying so hard to forget you. To live up to my words and walk away. But I can’t. Not at this moment, at least. I’m not ready to stay away. I can’t stay away. Nothing has changed. Not my feelings, not the way I see you, not even after…” He pauses. “After what you did to me.”

  “What did I do, Simon? What happened?” Tessa pushes her drink to the side and crosses her arms on the table. She rubs her forehead, furrows her brows and bites her lip. Her hands begin to shake.

  Simon takes the opportunity to lay his hand on hers.

  “You really don’t remember?”

  “No. I don’t. The last thing I remember is that you left us to go to the pharmacy two doors down. I remember you asking me to marry you. What happened, Simon? What did I do to you?”