Broken Juliet

He heads toward the door, but before he gets there, he stops and turns back to me. “Can you just pull that sheet down for a second?”

 

I smile and pull back the covers.

 

He groans and bites his lip. “Fuck me. Best brain-Polaroid ever.”

 

I laugh, and he heads toward the door. “Gotta go before I forget why I can’t bang you again.”

 

“Bang?” I say, mock-horrified. “What happened to ‘make love’? You’re so crass, Ethan Holt!”

 

“You love me crass!” he calls down the hallway. “And you love it when I bang you like a Japanese drum!”

 

And with that, the front door closes behind him.

 

I flop back against the pillow and sigh.

 

I miss him already.

 

I’m reflecting on how incredible he was last night, when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up and read the message.

 

<Miss me already, don’t u? The feeling is mutual & I’m still in the elevator. Don’t forget to open your present. I love you.>

 

I smile and open the velvet pouch. When I upend it, a heavy gold heart on a chain falls into my hand. It looks old. Antique. And, if I’m being honest, a little banged up.

 

I open the note.

 

Dear Cassie,

 

I’ve been wanting to give this to you for ages, and after the incredible gift you gave me last night, I figured the time felt right. I found it in a little antique shop in Milano while I was touring Europe. I don’t know why it caught my eye, but I had to buy it for you.

 

The thing is, it’s not perfect. It’s had a lot of owners, some of whom haven’t been kind to it, and it bears the damage to prove it. In a way, it represents me. Sadly, I guess it also represents you.

 

The thing that occurred to me is that despite all the damage, it’s still beautiful. In fact, I think it’s even more beautiful because it’s not perfect. It’s taken me a long time to understand that just because something isn’t pristine, it still has worth. You taught me that, even though I resisted believing it.

 

When I think about us, I often wonder what would have happened if I’d never met you. Would I have had the motivation to change? To address the crap from my past?

 

The truth is, it wasn’t just meeting you that made me realize I had to change. It was meeting you, then losing you. Twice. Being away from you made me face the ugly truth about myself, and after the accident, getting back to you was all the motivation I needed to tackle the issues that had handicapped me for years. You made me want to be better, and as much as I did it for myself, I also did it to be worthy of you.

 

So, I guess this is me, giving my heart to you. Cheesy, huh? Also, kind of redundant since you’ve owned it from the day we met.

 

It seems like we’ve taken such a roundabout way to get to where we were last night, and I know that’s my fault. But despite all the things I would have changed about our journey, I’d never want a different destination. It’s always been you. Beautiful, amazing, talented, loving you.

 

Thank you for giving me this final chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.

 

As I look at you now, I really have no idea how I ever walked away. Thank you for saving me. And for forgiving me.

 

On a related note: You’re outrageously beautiful when you sleep. Do you know that? I can’t stop looking at you.

 

Speaking of that, I took some photos of you with my phone. Sweet or creepy? I’m hoping you come down on the side of sweet. I just needed something to take with me. I already miss you.

 

Okay, I’d better wrap this up, because you’re going to wake up soon, and I want to be next to you when you do. In fact, I want to be there every morning when you wake up, but I guess that’s a longer discussion for another time.

 

I love you, Cassie. Always have. Always will. Keep my bed warm for me while I’m gone. I promise to help you make good use of it when I get back.

 

Ethan

 

I stare at his words. After I’ve reread them a dozen times, I slip the necklace over my head. The heart nestles right between my breasts. Nothing I’ve ever owned has looked so perfect.

 

I swore I wouldn’t cry when he left me this time, but he’s making that very difficult. At least now they’re happy tears.

 

I grab my phone and send him a message.

 

<Love the necklace. Wearing it now. Loved your letter more. Your words were beautiful. But most of all, I love you. Call me when you land.>

 

I pull the covers over me and inhale what’s left of his smell. If you’d told me three years ago that one day, I’d end up in Ethan Holt’s bed, texting him love notes, I probably would have punched you in the face.

 

Now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

 

I remember the card Ethan gave me on opening night. It said, “People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there’s a light from within.”

 

He meant it to be about me, but I wonder if he knows how accurately it describes him.

 

This him.

 

I fall asleep to images of the two of us, smiling and surrounded by light.

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

FINAL BOW

 

 

Present Day

 

New York City, New York

 

 

Dr. Kate studies me, and I hide my smile behind my hand.

 

“You look different today. Happy?”