His Wounded Light (38 page)

“Oooh. Nice. Do they have it in red?” That’s Evie asking. She’s a red person. Beautiful, bold and daring.

“Want me to check?” I plop back down on the couch and hug my new bag to my chest. “I can stop back at the store tomorrow.”

“Sure, if you can. I’ll pay you back.”

“No problem. Now, next question. The tour was good. Nothing I haven’t seen before, but it was nice to see it from a different perspective.” I set aside the bag and pull my knees up against my chest, holding the phone with one hand in front of my face.

“What perspective is that?” Ali asks, intrigued.

“You know, just really appreciating the sights by myself.”

“Hmmm. Don’t get it, but okay,” Ali answers.

“What she means is that she’s enjoying the sights without Alex’s normal smartass commentaries!” Evie bursts in good humoredly. “That guy just never stops talking.”

I can’t help but laugh at her comment despite the tears that have formed in my eyes from the mere mention of his name. “Why are the kids with Anthony? Where is their dad? Is everything okay?”

Evie smacks Ali on the arm. The phone drops and I hear giggling.

“Guys??? Are you there?”

“Sorry, Evie is being a dork. Don’t worry, Alex is okay and he’s there with them. I think he just went to attend a meeting out of town and had to leave the kids with Tony for a day.”

I can see Evie glaring at Ali before she directs her attention back to the phone. “Seriously, Iss, how are you. Are you doing okay? Will you be coming home soon?”

“I felt really good when I woke up this morning, Eves. I really think I’m getting better. I have one more place to visit and then I think I’ll be ready to come home.” I shift positions and lay on my stomach, resting my head on my elbows. “How are the kids? I normally call them at night there so I still have few hours to go. If they’re with Tony, though, I’ll skip tonight’s call so I don’t bother them.”

“They’re really good,” Evie says, her face still in focus. “They miss you so much, Eddie especially. He knows you can’t come back until you’re better, he just wishes it happens sooner rather than later.”

“Tell him I’ll be back soon. Maybe I can catch a flight next week if I feel strong enough about everything.” I pause, wondering if they can tell that I’m trying to convince myself as much as them. “I’m really getting there. I am.”

“So happy to hear this, Isa,” Ali says. “We all miss you. Always know that we’re here for you, okay?”

Suddenly, my chest feels tight and I am once again filled with a longing. I have to ask. I just have to. I need to know. “How is he?”

There is a long pause as both heads pop into full view. Evie then takes control of the conversation.

“He’s doing well,” she says matter-of-factly. “We’re not going to lie to you, though, he had a little bit of a meltdown after the airport but he’s dealing with it in the way that he deems best. Just like you’re dealing with it in your own way.”

My heart is heavy again.
What way? I want to ask them. Can he tell me the best way to deal with this?

“Not to mention the Lucas thing!” Ali blurts out. “He freaked out about that too.”

Evie calmly puts the phone down and I can hear Ali muttering, “Sorry! Sorry, I had to tell her.”

“Tell me what? You guys, you’re making me dizzy. Stop moving the phone around!”

“Long story short, Lucas mentioned in some interview that he’s in love with someone who is taking time to sort things out. When the reporter asked him about it, he gave very clear hints about who it was. Leigh brought the newspaper article over to Alex, who, in turn, called us both. That was the day before you left, which probably explains the scene at the airport.”

“Remind me never to date famous men. I mean it.”

Who am I kidding? I’m not going to date. Period. No one will ever come close to him.

I take a deep breath and will myself to snap out of it. “Okay, well, I’m going to go out and get something for dinner. I miss you both very much. Please kiss the kids for me. I’ll call you next week if I decide to come home. Love you!”

“Love you too, Iss! Take care and be strong! Bye!” my sisters exclaim together before I press the button and I’m left alone with my sad, solitary life.

***

“Only from the sky can you touch the heart. Tonight, the moon kisses the stars.”

—Rumi

Yesterday, I allowed myself to wallow in hopelessness and pity and anger. I didn’t leave my hotel room. My conversation with my sisters triggered all my emotions, all the feelings that I have yet to affirm in order to visit that one last place, the reason for my trip to Paris. I told myself that I had forgiven him and yet I was angry when I heard that he was okay, because I’m not and I may never be. But as I lay in bed and allowed buckets and buckets of tears to flow, I did realize one thing—I can never deny loving him the way that I do. That no matter how much I try, it will never be over between us. Life never promised to be perfect and I can’t really ask for anything else.

And so today, April 7th, one year to the day after we made a promise, I am here. Standing at the Pont des Arts, our bridge of love. It took all of my resolve to make it here. I’m here to find the beautiful piece of metal that marked our love for each other. I’m here to discover it, to feel it, to prove to myself that it was once real. To wrap my fingers around the object that he held. That he touched.

And then I’m here to let it go.

I walk the wide expanse of the bridge, along the rickety wooden planks, past gas lamps that lit the way long, long ago. I’m lost in a sea of locks; I don’t remember where ours is. The last time I saw it, I used a boat on the water to remind me of its placement. There is no such boat today. There is no such landmark. Still, I walk back and forth; I have all day to do so.

The view of the Seine is extraordinarily beautiful this afternoon. There is a perfect sunlit sky shining its blessings on all the lovers that walk along its path. One hour later, I’m still moving back and forth across the bridge, slower now, beginning to feel that it’s been lost forever. We had marked it so clearly, a red lock with a shiny white ribbon attached to Saint Catherine’s medal. We proclaimed our love and our hearts clearly too, but there’s never a guarantee that anything lasts forever.

I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I start to cry. My tears are falling, but I won’t stop walking. I pause to pull out the locks that I think are ours only to find that they’re not. Another hour passes by and I’m exhausted.
How do I know when it’s time to let go? The moment has come. It is now.
I stop to look over the bridge and I speak the words that my heart wants to say, words that I wished he could hear.

“Alex! I’m here. On our bridge. I tried my best to find our lock, but it’s gone and I can’t locate it. I’ve come full circle, Alex, and I’m heartbroken that it’s not with you. Part of me can’t believe that you’re not here next to me, that you’ll never be by my side again. But I know that I have so many things to be thankful for. I’m grateful that I had the privilege of being loved by someone like you. I’m grateful that I’m here, in Paris, missing you. I’m beholden to you for our memories. And our children. Eddie and Maddy and our little Sophie.” I clutch my chest at the mention of her name.

“Most of all, I’m thankful that you’re alive and well and getting better. I want you to know that I love you. That no matter what happens, you will always be in my heart. I will never love anyone else as much as I love you. You have erased any memory of who I was before we met and you made up for all the tears that I shed in my lifetime. Most importantly, please know, that on this day, here and now, I
forgive you
. I forgive you, Alex, for sending me away. I understand why you did it. All I want now is for you to find happiness. Today I’m leaving it all here. I need to get back to being a mother and a sister and a friend to those who need me. I’m leaving my love for you on this bridge. For as long as this bridge remains, so will my love for you. This may be the last time I get to say this out loud, so here goes: I LOVE YOU!”

As the words come tumbling out of my mouth, as I proclaim my love for him in Paris, I feel my sorrow being washed away by my tears. In that instance, I let myself go. I let my heart speak the words that will set me free. I do love him. I readily accept that I always will.

“I can help you,” an angel’s voice says close behind me.

My breath hitches. My lungs feel tight. I swing around and my hand flies to my mouth. I’m stupefied. He is here. Standing on his own two feet with the help of a cane, his achingly beautiful eyes smiling at me. Once again, there’s a stream of people going about their business, shuttling back and forth from end to end
,
but time stands still right here and now. A universe of emotions goes through me as I see his face, but none of them are anger. None of them are pain.

It’s just him and me. After all this time, he’s still all I ever see.

“I can help you find our lock,” he repeats. “I know where it is.”

“Alex.”

There are no words for this moment. He slowly walks towards me and I don’t waste another second. I fly into his arms, laughing and sobbing all at the same time. He holds me tightly and kisses my head, my forehead, my nose, and then, finally, my lips.

“Isa!” he moans into my hair. “I made such a mess of everything. I am truly sorry.” His body quakes as he holds my head against his chest.

I lift my head and crane my neck to peer into his eyes. “Oh, Alex. I meant what I said that day at the airport. I forgive you.”

“After your fall, I couldn’t bear to look at myself. I knew that I had to get better. I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am for everything. I love you so much,” he cries, tears streaking down his cheeks. “Please baby, please come home so we can be a family again.”

The realization hits me as I separate myself from him to make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing. “You’re standing!” I exclaim excitedly.

“I am,” he says, tears still falling from his eyes. He leans his cane on the railing and lifts me up in his arms. “I can put weight on them now!” He continues to carry me, swinging me around effortlessly. His arms and chest feel as firm as they were before the accident. His dancing blue eyes are back.

“That’s so wonderful!” I yelp excitedly, wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

He kisses me hungrily, placing my feet back on the ground so he can hold my face in his hands.

I break our kiss only to ask him the question that plagued me from the moment I saw him. “How did you know I was here?”

“I hoped that one day you would come looking for it,” he explains, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “so I’ve been visiting this place every day for the past week, waiting for you.”

“It took me a while, I know.” I look up at him sadly, filled with reproach for staying away for so long. And then it comes. The grief I have known for months is leaving my body through wracking sobs that weaken my knees and pull me to the ground.

He slowly folds his legs and sits down next to me. He knows what I’m thinking; he always does. I’m curled into a ball, shrouded in the security that is his body blanketing me, soothed by his hand that strokes my hair.

His voice is stilted, but strong and confident. “Everything that has happened in the past few months is my fault, Isa. All of it. None of it is yours.”

“I was weak.”

“You were alone.
I
left you alone. I don’t expect you to understand this, but I really thought I was doing you a favor. I didn’t know whether I was going to ever get better. And you deserve more.”

I break away from his cocoon and gently place my hands against his chest. “I was your wife. I loved you, no matter what.”

He pulls me back in and mutters softly, his lips against my mouth, “I’ve lost you, haven’t I? How can I get you back? Tell me, baby. Please.”

We’re still sitting on the ground, in public nonetheless; I can tell he’s feeling unsettled because he’s constantly shifting his weight as he kneels before me on the hard surface. His face is all over mine, kissing me, rubbing his nose against my skin. I am absorbed in his smell, in his touch.