When the Heart Falls

The realization crashes into me like those waves against the rocks. My body trembles in fear as all of the skeletons in my soul come out to haunt me. Ghosts. Ghosts of my past, ghosts of my memories. We’re all haunted whether we realize it or not.

I don’t feel the water on my face until Cade holds out his hand. “It’s raining.”

“The angels are crying," I say. "That’s what I used to believe as a child, that when it rained, it was angels weeping.” I hope it doesn’t get worse. Cade’s been looking forward to this trip, and I’d hate for us to get rained out. "Let's get to the abbey.” I reach for his hand, unwilling to let anything stop us from doing what we’d planned.

Cade’s hand is warm, strong, so big it swallows up mine as we continue to climb the hill. The rain and wind don’t die down as I’d hoped, instead, their frenzy increases.

Cade stops, pulling me to him. "We should get back to the hotel.”

A lone raindrop snakes down my neck and the back of my shirt. Shivering, I move closer to Cade. Our bodies heat up between us as rain falls on us.

He kisses the top of my head, a spot he can reach more easily than my lips due to our height difference.

But I don't want a chaste kiss on my head, so I lean back and tilt my face up, rain falling on it, nearly blinding me. He lowers his head so that it blocks out some of the water, and now all I see are his eyes, bright blue against his tanned face.

"You're beautiful in the rain," he says, his voice low. We kiss as the sky pours down on us. I can taste the rain on his lips, like the island is becoming a part of us.

It's hard to keep my head, to stay focused, when every touch, every taste of him steals my equilibrium.

A strong gust of wind pushes against us, breaking apart our kiss as it blows Cade's hat right off his head. It twirls through the air and down the hill we just climbed. Cade lets go of me and runs after the hat, his curses barely reaching me as the wind swipes those away as well.

I know this hat is important, even if I don’t know why. I follow his path, desperate to help him retrieve something that means so much to him. The rain comes down like ice, striking my face so hard it burns. Cade disappears into the fog, and panic grips me as I lose sense of direction. I can’t see anything around me, just white fog and rain.

Pushing too fast, fear gripping me, I land on my foot wrong, twisting it. “Shit!” My voice is eaten by the wind and rain. Limping forward, I look for a familiar sign or marker to tell me where I am, but see nothing. I can tell, as I move down the path, that I'm alone. The streets are empty for the first time. It finally feels remote, isolated, no longer a tourist trap. The tourists were all smart enough to come in from the rain before it turned into this storm.

This trip was supposed to be fun, to be romantic and adventurous, and instead it’s turned to shit like everything else. This trip to Paris, my book, it all turns to shit no matter what I do.

I’m ready to give up, to give in to my self-loathing misery and let the world fall apart around me, when the wind calms as quickly as it started. The rain, while still steady, no longer feels like daggers of ice trying to cut me. A silhouette in the distance gives me hope. I step carefully, moving closer.

It’s Cade. He’s on his knees in a puddle, clutching his hat to his chest as if in prayer.

I stop when I reach him and study his face for clues about his heart. It’s blank, as if the wind finally tore him apart, only it wasn’t his body the wind took, but his soul. “Cade?”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move.

I take a step forward, reaching my hand out to rest on his shoulder. “You’re worrying me.”

Finally, he looks up, and his eyes register my presence. "I'm sorry.” He glances down at the hat clutched in his hand. "It was my brother’s." He says this as if it explains everything. It does, but not enough. I have so many questions but this isn’t the time to ask. He looks up at me. "We should go."

But he doesn't get up. He's still holding the hat, staring at it now. The hat is a piece of his brother, maybe the only piece he has left. He can’t lose it, can’t lose his brother. Whatever happened to his brother, his family, Cade hasn’t grieved yet. It’s bottled up inside of him, just like my pain is bottled up in me.

We each bury our grief, hoping that if we ignore it long enough it will go away, but it never does.

I lift my hand from his shoulder and hold it out to him, like he held his out for me when he pulled me onto the stage on Bastille Day. When he gave me the courage to face one of my fears. "Come on. I'm here. It's okay."

He takes my hand and stands.

We lock eyes, the rain plastering our hair to our faces, as we hold on to each other.

And I realize in that moment, we can’t always wait for the rain in our lives to pass. Sure, the sun always comes up, a new day is always born, but all we have is the moment we’re in. The past is gone, the future not yet here, all we have is now.

And right now, I want to live my life.

On impulse, still holding his hand, I twirl myself around and let my fears and worries wash away.