“Not quite,” he answered as I laughed. “You know what was almost as difficult as not receiving a letter from you?” He was back to his mini tirade.
“What?” My voice empathetically rose to justify his indignation.
“Whenever you told Jane you had just written me a letter, but had torn it up. That was enormously frustrating. And how deplorable do I look when a seven-year-old-girl tells her dad that my name is synonymous with the word sad?”
It never occurred to me that Yuki saw me cry. I guess I couldn’t hide anything in such a small house.
“Yeah, if I had sent you all the letters I’d torn up, you would’ve gotten several per week. Sorry,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “But you must have also read in Jane’s letters that my feelings for you never changed. They only got stronger while I was away from you.”
“That was my only comfort during those long months. It was difficult not knowing when I would see or talk to you again. Jane did her best to keep me patient. She believed you would send her your contact information soon.”
“At least you had family and friends to talk to during those days. Do you want to know what was the hardest for me?” I paused wondering whether or not to share this information with Jake. “I had no one to share my feelings with. I hurt alone and that was unbearable. That’s probably why I wrote so many letters.”
I stopped talking. I felt Jake’s heart break.
“Thank you for finding me, Jake. My four months here did nothing to weaken my feelings for you. I think absence does make the heart grow fonder. I didn’t want to, but I was going to stay here another year to try to forget you.”
“Emily, let’s go home. I promised my family I’d bring you back. Can you leave with me tomorrow?”
As much as I wanted to be with Jake, leaving immediately wasn’t a possibility. “I need to stay at least till the end of the school year.”
His eyes expressed sadness again. He pondered our new dilemma. “When is the school year over?”
“In two weeks. It’s not much longer.”
“OK. As much as I don’t want to leave you, I’m going to allow it on one condition.”
“And what would that condition be?” I asked.
“When school is done, pack a bag of clothes, but Fed-Ex the rest of your belongings to Mom’s house.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to meet me in Paris. We’re going to take that romantic trip you promised me. If you agree to meet me in Paris, then I’ll let you finish out the school year.”
“And if I don’t agree to meet you in Paris?”
“Then, I’ll have to lock you up in a tower like Rapunzel and come visit you at night.”
I laughed at the thought. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Are you going to meet me in Paris or not?”
“Is this a choice that’s not really a choice?”
“Yup.”
“Well, then Paris it is,” I said, thrilled at the thought of spending an entire week with him. It was like a dream come true. No, it was a dream come true.
“Did you end up going to Paris in February?” I remembered we were supposed to be there a few months back.
“Yes, I had to go…alone. It was the most depressing trip of my life. I rarely left the hotel. I went from my room to the conference room. It was hard being there without you. The only highlight of the trip was when Gram came to visit me.”
I promised, “I’ll make it up to you.” We both cherished our moment together.
“Also, I have one more request,” Jake said. “I’m going to buy you a laptop with a webcam. I cannot go two weeks without seeing you—not after having endured five months. We will set up a time to talk each day, OK?”
“Is that necessary? It’s only twelve days. What a waste of money.”
He gave me a stern look that made me cower into his demand.
Jake paid for our beautiful meal that went untouched and we walked through the streets of Kyoto. We couldn’t help our fixed smile or our constant touch. We’d been apart for so long. I, more so than Jake, needed a continual reminder of our togetherness. It was amazing how many months of heartbreak could be mended within minutes, with a few magical words. How fickle the heart could be. We sat on a park bench eager to answer more questions and confirm our commitment one last time.
“Emi?”
“Hmm?”