Trusting his Heart

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Trusting his Heart Page 3

by Kenna Shaw Reed


  The smell of breakfast tray being served woke Bec. Her blue eyes took a moment to adjust to the light and for a moment she seemed stunned to find Geoffrey watching her.

  “Good morning, gorgeous.” Not every woman woke as beautiful as Bec. If only the wedding ring didn’t glisten in the morning light.

  “Good morning, how did you sleep?”

  “Fine,” he lied.

  “Really? I hope I look better refreshed than you do,” the laugh took the edge off her words.

  “You look stunning, the poster child for sleeping on flights.”

  “Well, thank you, kind sir. If you will let me past, I’ll freshen up before we share our first breakfast together.”

  Geoffrey forced himself not to look for her to return. After all the hours they spent together, he should allow the lady a few minutes to herself. Especially since they would spend another six or so hours together before he lost her. Would her husband be waiting? With or without children? Geoffrey imagined half a dozen children waiting with their father at the airport, all with blond curls and varying shades of blue eyes.

  What happened to him? Less than one week ago he assured his old friend there would never be another woman in his life like Rachel. Never the opportunity for love. For a man like him, it was a one time deal.

  Now, he was overcome with jealousy for the man who put a wedding ring on a woman he only met yesterday!

  “So, Professor,” Bec returned with two coffees. “I assumed white with two sugars. If you don’t like it, you can wait for the trolley to arrive.”

  “Perfect, thanks.” Geoffrey allowed Bec to ease past him to her seat thinking how criminal to have curves like hers on a married woman.

  “Geoffrey, last we spoke, you avoided any topic which resembled relationships. So, what woman broke your heart so much you need fill your life with an endless trail of young bodies.”

  Nothing like a well rested woman to cut to his truth.

  “Before I answer, and I am happy to do so, what man would allow you to fly half way across the world with enough luggage to indicate you were not coming back.”

  Her eyes narrowed, “Do you really want to go there?”

  “Bec, we have six hours before we land. You wanted to play this game and after our last night together,” he forced a laugh, “If I am going to tell anyone my truth, it will be you. But, you have to meet me half way.”

  Why did his emotions rise and fall as her eyes softened or hardened against him? “Okay,” she agreed, “Let’s do it slowly, one truth at a time.” A statement, yet Geoffrey nodded as if she asked a question.

  “Have you ever loved a woman?” He nodded.

  “Are you still married?”

  Bec closed her eyes and Geoffrey wondered why she had to fight to stay composed. Why did she find the question hard? Either she was married or not – the ring would indicate a “yes”.

  “Okay, you wanted the truth,” she slowly opened her eyes again but they were devoid of emotion. No sparkle, no anger. “I was married, but I guess right now I’m not. Have you been married?”

  He should have anticipated the question. Now he squirmed in his chair, trying to look past Bec through the window. Luckily their breakfast trays arrived and he focused on the delicate nature of cutting through the egg yolks.

  “My dear Professor, I asked such a simple question, unless of course a Los Vegas church service and one of your young blondes was involved at three am.” A higher pitch laugh, now the conversation entered dangerous territory.

  “I loved my wife.”

  “Loved? How long ago did the marriage end?”

  “Two days ago it was ten years. Your turn. Why do you think you are not married?”

  Bec pushed her plate away and turned to him. All the color drained from her face and she kept pursing her lips between her teeth.

  “My husband died eighteen months ago. I still wear his ring because I don’t know how to remove it - not that I expect you to understand. I’m moving to Australia because I lost my career while taking care of him, and a woman heard me talk at a conference and offered me a job. My luggage is everything I still own. I sold everything else to pay the medical and funeral bills.”

  Bec wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t expect you to understand. I want to move on, I want to start living again. I’m hoping it will be easier in a country where I don’t know anyone and I’m not expecting him to walk into a room.”

  Geoffrey finished his meal and handed their trays to the hostess. Once Bec started crying, he couldn’t face her eyes. The pain he recognized too closely echoed his own. The depth of the pain not only in living it day to day, but sharing her story with another person, equaled his own. The only thing he couldn’t relate to was the willingness to move on and start again.

  Until now, he never wanted to share his own grief with another person. Perhaps, he thought, Bec would understand.

  His truth

  “Once upon a time,” he started, taking her hand softly. She could take it back at any time, but he needed to feel her response to his truth. “There was a scared, English boy in a strange country. A beautiful young maiden captured the boy’s heart and they married. They lived a perfect life together and the young man promised to love her until the end of time.”

  “Sounds like the perfect love story.” Bec returned to looking out the window but hadn’t taken her hand away.

  “It was perfect, until the young maiden wanted to know why it was taking so long to give the young man the family they wanted.”

  “Oh,” Bec turned back to him.

  “The doctors didn’t take long to discover her body was already fighting an invader. They told the young man to enjoy what happiness they could because their perfect life would be over in months.”

  “Oh, Geoffrey.” Bec’s tears returned. Normally, he hated pity and avoided anyone likely to show him sympathy. Still, he continued.

  “The young maiden was the bravest warrior. She fought the dragon in Australia until she could fight no more. The young man took her to the States to enlist the help of the best dragon slayer in the world.”

  “Oh, Geoffrey.” Lost in his own tale, he didn’t even acknowledge Bec. Never before had he told his story, his truth.

  “We were kids when we fell in love, kids who didn’t know any different or any better. We learned about real, all-encompassing love in those twelve months. Dancing in the dark hospital room to music from our phones. Counting treatments and days in remission.”

  Geoffrey lost himself in his grief, as fresh as it had been ten years ago when he stood beside her grave.

  “Once upon a time, a young man watched his fairest maiden fight the dragon until it finally and cruelly defeated her. In his grief, he wrote random thoughts about the world that others took, published and honored him.”

  “The young man became famous, for the work he knew would never have existed if the young maiden never met the dragon. If the young maiden lived a long and happy life with him, given him children then there would never have been the time or the anger to fight other demons.”

  “Ten years?” she asked softly, now cupping his hand in her own.

  “I came back to come to celebrate the ten years publishing of my work. Regardless of how I created the work, it still means a lot to both universities and they wanted the opportunity to relaunch it to the world.”

  “What about you?”

  “When the parties finished, I left town, fished with her doctor, drank too much and almost avoided doing what in the end I came here for.”

  “Oh, Geoffrey.”

  “I needed to say, ‘good bye’ to the love of my life. I went to the hospital where she died and watched another woman in her bed. Another family with the same look of hope and despair in their eyes. I went to her grave and made sure there was a fresh red rose at the head and saw the old roses at the foot.”

  “Roses?”

  “For the rest of my life, a single red rose will be placed on her grave. Our
marriage was always going to be until my death do we part. Not hers.”

  “So the girls are your way to stay hidden from the world?”

  Geoffrey nodded and ordered a strong drink from the hostess. “Today is not the day to wait until midday for the first drink.”

  “I’m not judging, if I can join you.”

  “So, Miss Bec Garran, your turn.”

  “Same dragon, different story. We were together for the diagnosis and then he left me to get milk and bread. Six months later, his sister rang me to say he wanted to say goodbye. For six months, six lousy months, he tried to run away from me. He didn’t want my pity or support or even my love.”

  “What changed in the six months?”

  “The treatments stopped working. They gave him twelve months to live and he ran out of money for the doctors and drugs.”

  “He came home to you?” Geoffrey found it inconceivable even the thought of not being able to care for Rachel in her final months.

  “I took home to him. His mum, sister and I took shifts. Everything I owned needed to be sold. We fought, he would push me away and ban me from the hospital.”

  “Tough, on both of you.” Geoffrey leant towards her until their foreheads touched. “You have to know the dragon doesn’t play fair. Every fight is different and the way the heroes fight is different.”

  “He didn’t want me to fight by his side. He kept pushing me away, until he got scared and then he would only want me by his side.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for what I said before, about you not being able to understand. I keep forgetting other people have their own story and not all of them are happy endings.”

  Geoffrey put his arm around Bec, holding her close into him. For the first time in ten years, he was proud to cry for his wife and allow another person into his heart. He felt her tears through his shirt and felt prouder still of the strength she had shown.

  The stewardess interrupted their moment, offering more coffee. They broke apart, Geoffrey trying not to feel embarrassed from over-sharing.

  “So, tell me about your wife,” Bec tried to smile and lighten the mood, “What was her name? Tell me the craziest things you two did?”

  Until the plane landed, Bec and Geoffrey shared stories about who they loved and what they had lost.

  “I can’t believe, I can even tell you what I didn’t like and what I don’t miss – for eighteen months I haven’t been able to admit - I don’t miss his snoring!”

  Then, Geoffrey off on art. “I must have married the only art major who didn’t like going to galleries. No matter how famous the artist, she would pick their work to pieces and we would end up leaving before she insulted the other visitors.”

  “I married the only football hating male. He never understood men beating up on other men over a piece of leather.”

  The pilot asked for seatbelts to be on, giving them the half hour warning before landing in Sydney.

  “So, Miss Garran, in no way did I expect this when I suggested we play ‘truth and consequences’ back in Boston.”

  “I have to say, Professor Swains, you may be an arrogant, insulting jerk, but it has been a pleasure to spend the night with you.”

  “I can’t imagine spending the night with anyone else.” Geoffrey knew he had gone too far the moment the words came out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I meant …”

  “I know, it’s too soon for either of us.”

  “Give me another ten years, or so.”

  The plane landed and time to escape their own truths.

  “Geoffrey!”

  “Yes,” he hoped she would ask to keep in touch. No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t. But, still, it would be nice for her to ask.

  “It’s almost Christmas. Why don’t you take a couple of weeks to continue this conversation with your friends. People who would remember you and Rachel. Don’t throw yourself into a new relationship with a young girl who would never understand.”

  Geoffrey thought for a moment, his last gift to this wonderful, caring and grieving woman would be his parting words.

  “Promise me you won’t take ten years to move on. He loved you enough to leave you, the best way to honor his courageous battle with his dragon is to let him go and allow love back into your life again. Don’t become old and bitter like me. Don’t let me be your future.”

  It took every ounce of his self control not to look back at her.

  Sun through clouds

  Geoffrey came back from the United States a different man, sometimes he didn’t recognize himself and neither did his friends.

  Most of his colleagues thought he wanted to bask in the glory of his papers becoming the flavor of the month again. Article after article appeared about his ground-breaking research and all the work since by peers trying to disprove it.

  For the first time in years, he attended the Vice Chancellor’s Valentines Day fundraising ball alone.

  He charmed all the wives, dancing with them and handing them back to their husbands with words of flattery in their ears. In truth, he enjoyed the strange sensation of being his own man and not having to keep up with a young girlfriend, or to justify her to his colleagues.

  Rigby invited him to join the Vice Chancellor’s table. “Susan, lovely to see you again,” he hugged Rigby’s wife, “I don’t know how you do it but the older Rigby gets, the younger you seem!”

  “Geoffrey, who and where is your charming date tonight?” Susan at least tried to be polite to his choice in young partners.

  “My darling, Susan, you misjudge me. Tonight, is about celebrating love by opening our wallets for a good cause. You of all people know I’ve loved, I lost and now all I can contribute to the fantasy of love is my attendance and my money.”

  All the judgement left her face, as Susan took his hand and led him to the dancefloor. “Geoffrey, I’m sorry. I miss her too. If I judge you, please know it is only because she would be so angry you have avoided any relationship with a chance of making you happy.”

  “For me, it has always been too soon.”

  “Yet, here you are tonight, without anyone at your side and looking happier for it.”

  “When I took a break in the States, I caught up with her doctor.”

  “David? How is he?”

  “Fighting hard for his patients, winning some and losing others.”

  “It’s a tough life.”

  “He gave us Rachel’s last twelve months. There is no way I could ever repay him.”

  The music finished and he escorted Susan back to her husband.

  “You are a good man and have been a good friend, so I hope you will hear me out,” Susan held his arm, “Something else happened while you were away and you seem different, calmer. You deserve a woman who can match you – someone you can respect and love. You will never find another Rachel, but you don’t have to settle for students too young to understand or appreciate you.”

  Rigby reclaimed his wife, “Thanks for looking after my charming bride. We are having a dinner party at the end of the month, there is a spare seat with your name on it.”

  Geoffrey smiled. He dropped off all dinner party guest lists when he insisted on bringing young women. Lecturers seemed to be uncomfortable when their students were sitting at the dinner table.

  “So, I turn up to one ball without a date and you are trying to set me up?”

  “Not at all, I’m only offering to feed you.”

  “Looking forward to it, enjoy your evening.”

  He didn’t need to stay any longer. The auctions were over and he outbid a woman at the front table for a water color painting of a dragon being slayed by a young woman. The painting reminded him of the story he told Bec. The other bidder put up a good fight, but he was more confident in the size of his bank balance and the higher the auction went, the more personal owning the painting became.

  The gavel sounded, he now owned a painting he never expected to bid for. Strangely, he didn’t want
to hang it in the university residence. Perhaps, he thought, after ten years it was time to buy a home of his own.

  He shrugged, something else new to consider. Since coming back home, he wasn’t interested in dating a new student. He wanted to put down roots and use his cash for a home.

  Ever since meeting Bec, he tried to look for the sun through his clouds of grief. Some days he felt it there, shining, waiting for him to notice.

  “Professor, you have dinner at the Rigby’s tonight. I have flowers for you to give Mrs Rigby, a bottle of port for him. Your suit is back from the cleaners and I cancelled your mentoring session, so you have no excuse to be late.” Layla at her bossy best.

  “Thank you, but I’m sure they wouldn’t miss me if I called in sick.”

  “Professor this is the first time they have invited you to an event since I started working for you three years ago.”

  “It’s been a long day …” he started to fight a losing battle.

  “Professor Geoffrey Swains! You said you would go, and you are going.”

  “Layla, what would I do without you?” He gave up, one less dinner to eat alone.

  Driving up to the house, he realized he should have asked how many were attending the dinner. After circling the block twice looking for a car space, he parked two blocks away because of all the other guests. Too late to back out now, but they would never have noticed if he failed to turn up.

  “Geoffrey, glad you made it,” Rigby greeted him at the front door. “Actually, Susan would have banned me from the golf course for a year if you pulled out. She needed a single man to place with the guest of honor and you drew the short straw.”

  “Rigby, she isn’t playing match maker again! I thought I dodged that bullet.”

  “Relax, the woman joined Derek Casbar’s firm and is too old and too smart for you. Poor Susan was struggling with seating and figured you would be charming, wouldn’t bore the woman nor embarrass her with inappropriate flirting.”

  “So, who is this woman, I should at least learn her name before I insult her.”

 

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