“Please ask me,” she sobbed. “You said you loved me.”
“I do. More than I ever thought possible. But this is a foolish notion. It’s your heartache speaking. I love you, I do and that’s why I refuse to let you do this.”
“It’s not foolish to me.”
I sighed. “You’re still so young. We’re talking years, I won’t be able to come to the island often, and you won’t leave.”
“For you, I would try.”
“Then come now. Right now. I can’t leave, I have to teach. Be with me.”
“Ian.”
“Right. That’s what I thought.”
“You know how hard it is for me.”
“That’s why I’m not begging you to do something you aren’t capable of.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I won’t ask you.”
Silence. And it might as well have meant death.
“Koti, please don’t take it the wrong way. You have to understand, I put my life on hold for so long. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do the same for me.”
“How am I supposed to take it? You’re telling me to let you go when I’m telling you I’ll wait. Because I think you’re worth it. I guess I’m alone in that too.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You’ve said enough. Goodbye, Ian.” Her voice broke as did our connection.
“Koti!”
I hit redial and got her voicemail.
After several tries, I left my first message.
“Answer the phone!”
And then rang her again.
“Koti, I can’t ask you. Don’t put me in this position please.”
And the day after.
“I’ve never been so fucking miserable. Please just try to understand.”
And the day after that.
“You’re being childish.”
And the day after.
“If I were there, your ass would be purple. God, but I’m not there and I’m dying to purple your ass. I miss you so much. I can’t come to you now just to leave you. Please believe me, I have no choice. You might not understand it, but I do, and I know in my heart asking you to wait is wrong. I won’t bother you again… but please call me back.”
Trailing my fingers down the piano keys, I tried in vain to keep the tears from surfacing. Before he left and after our signing lesson, he’d played for me daily while I lit candles and uncorked some wine. We’d taken great care of our bubble before it burst. Disco came running at the sound and when she realized it was me, she resumed the wait of her master in front of the screen door.
“Come on, baby girl, please,” I begged as I sat with her on the floor. Her missing him kept her alert. Any sound other than the noise inside the house had her scrambling for the door. Even after months away from him, her loyalty and unyielding love hadn’t faltered a single day.
“I know how you feel, but we have to get our shit together. Hey… who want’s bacon?”
She didn’t move, and I was out of cards to play. That morning it seemed she was suffering the worst of it as if the realization struck he was never coming back. I started my mourning the minute he left the driveway. My days spent wiping away tears every time I woke up and realized he wasn’t there to share a smile with and the fact that I would never again wake up to see his.
The devastation remained as the weeks passed and I couldn’t bring myself to call him back. I was at my breaking point. A mental list full of my new hopes weaved between my racing thoughts and the irony was, those hopes for my future all included him. There was no one else I wanted to share my life with. He was never coming back for me—for us—and I agreed to the heartbreak. I’d allowed it in.
Ian was it for me. And he was gone in every sense of the word.
We agreed on a clean break, but I never agreed to stop loving him because that would be too much to ask of a woman who was finally using her heart for something other than pumping blood through a string of years filled with anxious days.
Though I knew I loved him before he left, I didn’t realize how deep it ran. I didn’t realize the extent of my love or how hard I would love him, or how much it would break me to lose his daily affection. I didn’t realize how his presence would linger in my house or how I would forever sleep on the opposite side of the bed waiting for him to return to his side.
My love hadn’t faded, my tears weren’t anything more than fresh reminders on recycle. The pain of losing him wasn’t lessening as the days and weeks passed, my insides only grew heavier with ache.
His presence and our relationship had restored my faith in the possibility of a different life other than just managing my disorder. His absence took that faith away when he left me with nothing but a house full of memories and days filled with longing. We’d only had a few months to love each other, but that love would have to be enough to last my lifetime. I understood Jasmine and her hesitance to move on. I understood her stubborn heart and crumbling morals. I understood the unending pain and the scars love could leave.
I finally understood, and I fucking hated it.
I grieved him with every breath.
“So, this is what a broken heart feels like, huh, girl?”
Disco began to cry again, the same sorrowful whimper that started months ago as I pulled her into my arms and cried with her. For a moment in time, I lived in a dream with a man who could read my thoughts, whose attention took me to unbelievable heights, whose touch set me on fire and filled me with hope. I had the love of a good man, the best of love stories.
I found the one person in the world who understood me and loved me wholly as I was.
Love stories aren’t always perfect. They can wreak havoc on the heart and distort the soul. I’d gotten lost in love and found the reality at the end of it where I lived in the truth.
Not all love stories come with happy endings.
Two Months later
I SAT ELLA’S COCOA DOWN on the wiry table at the park and took a sip of my coffee as she fed the birds the rest of her croissant. Once seated, she took a sip and commanded my attention with lifted hands.
Dad, you’re still sad.
I’m fine.
You’re lying.
I’m okay. How is school?
Please go. I’ll be okay. I miss her too.
I put up my hands and she covered them with hers.
“Dad,” she said. When it was just the two of us, she saved her voice for when she wanted to make her point. “You were happy with her.”
Her speech was close to perfect. Her structure still lacked a little, but I’d never been a prouder father. Her voice was a gift, as was she.
“You sound beautiful,” I said as she read my lips.
“I do not. I won’t ever sound good. But one day a man will love me like you love her. Do you want me to be without that man?”
I lifted my hands. No.
“Talk,” she commanded.
“No, I want you to have love.”
“And I want that for you. This is not the time to give up.” She swallowed and looked around us still a bit self-conscious from talking in public. “I’m going to the Washington program soon. You don’t need to be here anymore.”
I shook my head as she stomped her foot on the pavement. “Listen to me!”
She was loud, but I didn’t flinch. She was showing me what was in her heart.
“You are a good dad. But I’m growing up to be a woman.”
That time I couldn’t help but laugh at the ironic tantrum.
I took a sip of my coffee. “And I haven’t missed any of it and I don’t intend to.”
“You get on my nerves,” she huffed.
“That’s not nice.”
“I don’t want to be nice. You need to go. Mom is here if I need her.”
“Good for her.”
I still wasn’t speaking to my ex-wife. I wasn’t sure if I ever would. Daniel had buckled under the pressure of her expectations in their first few months of dating and left Tara holding the bag, especially when she told him Ella was his. I’d been spared a custody battle and because he was the piece of shit he was, Ella had been spared too. I got no satisfaction from any of it aside from the fact that my daughter didn’t have to deal with the heartbreak I had.
Ella lifted her chin in defiance. “Go to her.”