After Elias

by Eddy Boudel Tan

  I focused on getting dressed and decided to have faith that Elias would show up as expected. I was doing a fairly decent job of remaining calm until Samantha came upstairs to tell me all the guests had arrived. She must have been able to tell something was wrong, but she just smiled and retreated down the stairs.

  It took several minutes to find Elias. I searched the entire floor, opening every closet door and getting down on my knees to peer underneath every bed. The thought of Elias hiding under a bed should have struck me as ridiculous, but it didn’t.

  Finally, I opened the door to a bathroom attached to one of the guest rooms and there he was, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his knees tucked in against his chest, his face in his hands.

  At first I didn’t know what I was looking at. It was Elias, but in a position I had never seen him in before. He turned toward me at the sound of the door and then quickly hid his face away, but it was enough time for me to see the pink hue in his eyes and the tears glistening on his cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Just give me a minute, please. I’ll meet you outside soon.” His voice shook.

  I walked over to his side and slid down to the ground with my back against the wall. We sat there for a while without saying a word. He wiped his eyes and stared at the floor in front of him, realizing there was no point in hiding his face from me.

  I don’t remember what was going through my mind, but I felt at peace. Perhaps it was reassuring to see that the man I loved was also susceptible to the inner ebbs and flows of being human. This time, I could be the strong one.

  Eventually, I broke the silence. “We don’t have to go through with this. It’s okay if this isn’t what you want,” I said, calmly stating what I thought to be obvious.

  He looked at me, surprised. “That has nothing to do with it,” he said. “I’m not trying to call off the engagement. I want this.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “Then why were you sitting on the bathroom floor, crying by yourself?”

  He looked away, embarrassed, struggling to find an answer. I knew how he must have felt then. “Why?” is such an easy thing to ask. These questions always sounded like accusations to me. I hated how simplistic they were, as though expressing the shifting winds inside me as words were as simple as stating the colour of my eyes. I rarely understood these winds myself. Now I was the one compelling a man to justify his storm to someone who was sheltered from it.

  “It’s too much,” Elias said. “This event. This life. Our future. You. I know I should feel happy and grateful. I want to feel this way. But all I feel is …”

  I waited for him to finish his thought, but he sat there in silence.

  “How do you feel?” I asked gently.

  I don’t think he knew how to answer this question. He turned to me, the satellites in his eyes shining sharply, and I knew this would be the only answer he could offer.

  “I don’t deserve any of this.”

  “We only ever get what we deserve,” I responded. He looked at me then, contemplating what I said, before leaning in to kiss me.

  Now, standing here on our wedding day, as I look out over the courtyard of the Ōmeyōcān Hotel, I breathe in the scent of his aftershave and feel the dampness of his cheek against mine. He is here with me. We both got what we deserved.

  “Are you ready?” Vivi looks brave in an attempt to instill the same quality in me.

  The courtyard below is a scene from a fairy tale — my fairy tale. Candles flicker from linen-covered tables. Ornate vases overflow with tropical flowers of every shape and colour. Lights are strung above like supernovas. Heavy petals fall from the trees, their closed fists becoming open palms, but the pink cloud continues to hover overhead.

  All of the guests have arrived. They sit at their assigned tables or linger near the bars, sipping wine and looking rather unsure of what to do with themselves. Carmen croons directly below us, her voice caressing the air like a warm breeze.

  I take a deep breath and nod decisively. “I’m ready.”

  We step away from the edge of the terrace and slowly descend the curved staircase, Vivi to my left and Decker to my right. This would have been my grand entrance. I would have made my way down the west staircase while Elias descended from the east. Carmen would have been singing a jazz rendition of Ben E. King’s “Stand by Me.” We would have met at the bottom underneath the trees and the terrace and the twinkling lights. Our happiness in that moment would have been undeniable.

  I look to the east when I reach the bottom, almost expecting to see Elias in his white suit looking back at me. Of course, he isn’t there.

  Vivi and Decker stay close to my side as I float through the scene. People greet me with conventional sympathy, their faces long and burdened. I counter with verve, smiling widely and embracing them with affection. I will not let them turn this night into a funeral.

  My aunt Sheila approaches and kisses me on the cheek. “My poor, poor boy. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m glad you could make it,” I say, holding her hands in mine. “Isn’t this island spectacular?”

  She hesitates. “Yes, it certainly is. How are you doing, sweetheart? I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

  “I’m just happy to be here with all of you. How about you? How are things with …?”

  “Charles,” she says helpfully.

  “Yes, Charles! How are things with the two of you?”

  “We’re fine. He was here a minute ago but had to pop up to the room because he forgot his eye drops, silly old man. His eyes get very dry despite the humid weather.”

  I laugh loudly before realizing she hadn’t made a joke. Sheila offers a shaky smile.

  “It sure is hot in hell,” I say. “I mean, paradise.” I laugh again, even more loudly this time.

  After pardoning myself, I make my way to one of the bars set up beneath a tree. There stands Gabriel, shaking a cocktail with vigour as he chats with Nina and Naomi. The two women appear spellbound. As expected and against my instructions, he is dressed entirely in black, tonight in a thin silk tie and fitted tuxedo jacket with all but one button undone. His long hair is slicked back in its usual knot. The lanterns from the hallway behind him cast a brilliant glow, framing Gabriel with pillars and light. He is a dark angel.

  Nina and Naomi walk away, speaking to each other in hushed tones with glasses in hand. I’m relieved they don’t notice me standing there.

  Gabriel spots me as I saunter toward him. He places his hands on the bar and grins mischievously.

  “Coen, my friend. I was wondering when I would see you tonight. You have been keeping me in suspense.”

  “I like to retain an air of mystery,” I say.

  “You may be the most mysterious man I have ever met.”

  I try to conjure a witty response, but I come up empty-handed. Instead I laugh, almost certain it’s obvious the sound is meant to fill the silence.

  “Thank you again for being here tonight,” I finally manage to say. “It means a lot to me. I hope it wasn’t any trouble.”

  “It was no trouble at all,” he says, leaning toward me with his elbows on the surface of the bar. “I am honoured to be here. Whatever you need, just tell me.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “You would be very thirsty, my friend.” He reaches below the counter for a couple bottles and begins mixing his potion. “My heart breaks for you tonight,” he goes on as he stirs and pours. “This must be difficult for you. Remain strong.”

  “Don’t let your heart break for me,” I respond. “I’m not worth it.”

  “Worthy or not, it breaks.” He places the glass in front of me with a brisk twitch of the eye. The lights behind Gabriel begin to flicker rapidly, transforming him into an ominous silhouette. For a split second, I see slashes of paint across his face, red as blood and black as night. It happens so quickly that I’m not sure if it happened at all.

  I ta
ke a long sip of the potion, and it makes me bold. “Have you ever had your heart broken?” I ask.

  “Every day,” he says gravely.

  “No, I mean really broken. Truly broken, just smashed into pieces.”

  “You are asking if I have ever suffered the carelessness of a lover. Yes, of course. We all have, no? For me though, that is not heartbreak. That is the sting of rejection. The shame of vulnerability. The cold slap of reality after a warming delusion.”

  “Those things sound heartbreaking to me.”

  “They seem so at the time but then the pain goes away,” he says with a shrug. “It fades. The heart recovers and the mind forgets. True heartbreak never leaves you.”

  “Then what is the cause if not a careless lover?”

  “You.” His eyes peer into mine, and I can’t look away. “People can bring you pain, but nothing will hurt more than the pain you inflict on yourself.”

  The lights flicker again, then stop. I think I see something lurking behind Gabriel. Something dark.

  A commotion erupts behind me. I break away from Gabriel’s hold to see a man being escorted out of the courtyard. He is dressed like the other guests, but I don’t recognize him. The man’s arms are gripped firmly by two large staff members who aren’t outfitted in taupe like the others. Their dark uniforms distinguish them as security.

  “Get your hands off me!” the man shouts with a Scandinavian accent, his face flush with anger. Soon he is gone.

  I turn to face Gabriel. “Another one,” he says, shaking his head.

  I catch a shimmer of colour from the corner of my eye. Raina is glamorously dressed in a form-fitting gown made of metallic purple sequins that glitter in the light. She walks up to me without a word and kisses me tenderly on the cheek. Holding me by the hands, she takes a step back and studies my face.

  “You are disturbingly handsome for a widower,” she says.

  “No, I’m not,” I say. “That is, I’m not a widower. I was never married.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Vivi appears by my side, seemingly from out of thin air, and links her arm around mine. “What are you two talking about?” she asks with her lips stretched tightly across her cheeks in her fakest of smiles.

  “We were just debating the intricacies of being widowed,” Raina says, punctuating the sentence with a melodic laugh. I join along, perhaps too enthusiastically.

  “That sounds uplifting,” Vivi responds, tightening her grip on my arm.

  “She was just joking around,” I explain.

  “Can you believe that man who got tossed out a minute ago?” Raina says in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Now how the hell did he get past security in the first place? Apparently he wasn’t the first one either.”

  “I heard that some of the guests were being harassed in the village,” Gabriel says as he wipes the surface of the bar with a white towel. “Those people are shameful.”

  Vivi’s sleek black hair spins around her head like a whirling dervish as her eyes dart from Raina to Gabriel. She throws up her hands with an incredulous laugh, and it reminds me of Elias. “I don’t think Coen needs to hear this right now.”

  “He’s a grown man,” Raina says. “I think he can handle it.”

  “Wait, why are you here again?” Vivi asks without a hint of humour.

  “Okay,” I say loudly, holding my hands up in front of me. “Everyone relax. We’re all friends here, right?”

  Raina looks at the ground while Gabriel slings his towel over his shoulder. Vivi glares at Raina’s downturned head before saying, “Coen, let’s take a walk before dinner is served. I don’t think everyone has had a chance to see you yet.” She asserts her link around my arm as she pulls me away.

  “I’ll see you both soon,” I say to Raina and Gabriel.

  I’m led toward the centre of the courtyard where a stone fountain bubbles beneath a canopy of branches and lights. Carmen’s silky voice serenades the air from her pedestal, the vines from the terrace draped around her like a waterfall.

  “That was really charming of you,” I say, my voice hushed. “Raina is here to be supportive. You didn’t have to shut her down like that.”

  “I don’t trust her,” Vivi says.

  “You don’t trust anyone.”

  “She doesn’t know you. She hasn’t earned the right to talk to you like that.”

  “Like what? I need you to be cool, okay? You’re not my bodyguard.”

  “I just worry about you.”

  “Then stop!” It comes out more loudly than I intend, startling a few guests around us. A constricting sense of irritation begins to simmer beneath my skin.

  “Coen, calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down. Since you arrived you’ve been treating me like I’m made of porcelain. It’s suffocating, Vivi. I am not as fragile as you think I am.”

  She stands and stares, arms folded in front of her, red lips pressed tightly together. It looks as though she’s deciding whether to give up, to throw in the towel. With a deep breath, she says, “You’re right. I’ve been smothering. I’m just protective of you.”

  “You don’t need to be. Just like Raina said, I’m a grown man.”

  We stand there in the centre of the courtyard, looking at each other, not knowing what to say, when I begin to laugh suddenly. I can’t help it. Vivi watches as my body convulses.

  “Are you okay?” She looks around hesitantly before taking a step toward me.

  “I’m fine,” I say, taking a step back. “I’ve never been better. I think I’ll take a walk. I’ll find you later, okay?”

  She doesn’t respond, defeated, as I hurry off.

  I wander beneath the magnolia trees, smiling and greeting and kissing cheeks as though this is what I was born to do. This is my life now, combatting sympathy with grace. I congratulate my cousin Taylor on his latest promotion. I compliment Nina and Naomi on their choices in evening wear. I run into Charles and make a point to demonstrate how I remember his name. Some people seem confused by my selflessness. They want to talk about me. But I don’t want to talk about me. I’ve had enough with talking about me.

  It is a perfect evening. For the first time tonight, I notice the warmth of the air and the softness of the breeze that blows petals off the trees. One by one, they float to the ground, a reminder of the unstoppable lapse of time. The din of conversation combined with the vibrations of the music and the glow of the lights lends a dreamy quality to the scene around me.

  This is exactly how I imagined this night.

  This is everything you ever wanted, isn’t it?

  It feels like sand in my eyes. They squint harder with my palms rubbing in opposing circles. Everything glistens when I collide with someone so forcefully that I’m nearly knocked to the floor. He catches me as I fall, steadying me with strong hands.

  “You okay, little bro?” Clark asks.

  “I’m fine.” I adjust my jacket, shaking off his hands.

  “You should watch where you’re going,” he says with a tentative laugh.

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  “Hey, I’m glad I ran into you — literally.” Another awkward laugh. “I want to apologize for the other night. I was out of line. You know me. I can be a little clumsy with my words, but I mean well. I know that’s not a legitimate excuse. I just want you to know that I feel like an asshole.”

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I say, wondering if he can pick up the note of impatience in my voice.

  “Are we cool?”

  I look at him with disbelief. “No, Clark. We’re not cool. It’s not that easy. You don’t get to say whatever you want, no matter how insulting or asinine, and then go on with life as though it were nothing. What you said was really dangerous. It was also very enlightening. Now I know how you really feel.”

  He stands there with his hands in the pockets of his pants. Then he takes them out and crosses his arms over his chest. He scratches the back of his head befor
e his hands return to his pockets. I extract the tiniest drop of joy from watching his discomfort — this handsome, arrogant man in his bespoke suit the colour of the midnight sky. I’ve resented him for so long that I assumed he resented me too, but he seems sincere in his remorse.

  “You’re right, of course,” he says. “It was stupid of me to think it would be that easy. Look, I went too far. I said things I didn’t mean, but I also said things that are true. You might not believe this, but I care about you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. I suppose my methods may need some work, but I want us to be able to talk to one another, to be honest with each other.”

  “Right. Be honest then. I know you weren’t finished at dinner the other night. Tell me everything else you want to say.”

  He sharpens his gaze, sensing the challenge. “I’m not here to pick a fight, Coen.”

  “You want us to be honest with each other. I’m inviting you to be honest.”

  He studies me intently before saying, “I don’t think you’re doing as well as you want us to believe.” He stops there, removing his hands from his pockets to hold them over his chest in a defensive stance. The lights strung above his head go dark, then illuminate again. They flicker erratically, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Go on,” I say.

  He hesitates. “I don’t think you’re confronting the circumstances in a healthy way.” He speaks with determination. “Nobody can blame you. None of us know what this must feel like for you now. We want to help, but you keep pushing back. I saw you shouting at Vivi earlier. She’s your closest friend, and you’re even shutting her out.”

  “I wasn’t shouting.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “I am doing just fine, Clark. Believe it or not, I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. There is nothing wrong with how I am dealing with this.”