But we had loved each other with a ferocity that I hadn’t felt since.
“Of course I’m different. People change, Yoss. It has been fifteen years,” I pointed out sharply, crossing my arms over my chest and almost wishing someone would get on the damn elevator. It was unusually empty for that time of day.
“The first thing I ever noticed about you was your eyes. You looked at me and that was it,” he mused, running his fingers over the healing scratches. His swelling had gone down days ago and the bruises were starting to fade. He had grown a thick scruff on his chin that gave him a rugged appearance, completely unlike how I was used to seeing him. But the evidence of his experience was in the hesitance of his movements, the stitches healing on his arms and on his head.
It was in the blank hardness in his deep, green eyes.
But right now, his eyes weren’t blank or hard.
They were gentle.
Tender.
They were lost in things I could never, ever forget.
The elevator doors opened and we were interrupted as people filed in. I made sure to stay close to Yoss so that he wouldn’t get jostled about as the space became more crowded.
I noticed that he leaned in slightly, turning his head so that his nose brushed against my hair. “But maybe some of you is still the same, Imi. I hope so. I really hope so,” he whispered and I couldn’t help but shiver.
I didn’t say anything. Yoss moved away slightly. As much as he was able to while surrounded by people.
When we reached the ninth floor, I helped him off the elevator. We moved slowly. One step at a time.
I led him to the glass doors at the back of the café and held it open for him to step out onto the balcony. It was cold. The wind had picked up, blowing my hair in my face. The view wasn’t anything spectacular. We could see the small park behind the hospital and the giant parking lot. We could hear the distant noise of the highway.
“It’s pretty cold out here, maybe we should go back inside,” I suggested, watching Yoss as he walked to the railing.
“Just a few minutes. Let me enjoy the fresh air.”
“Okay. Only a few minutes though.” I watched him look out at the world below.
“Did you ever get to the beach?” he asked out of the blue, surprising me.
I wrapped my arms around my middle, berating myself for not wearing a coat, hoping that if I ignored his question, he would forget he asked it.
I should have known better.
Yoss glanced back at me over his shoulder, his hands gripping the railing, his eyes piercing and intense. “Did you, Imi? Did you walk on the sand the way we talked about?”
I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to rein in the regret and anger. “No, Yoss, I never made it to the beach.”
Yoss frowned. “Why not?”
I walked up to the edge of the small balcony and leaned over, the wind frigid on my face. “Because life gets in the way sometimes. You should know that better than anyone.”
“You’re happy though. You have a good job. You have a house and a car and friends. Right?” He sounded strange. More than curious. Not quite frantic.
“I have a good job. A house. A car. A friend or two, I guess.” I didn’t sound convincing.
Yoss picked up on it immediately.
“You were supposed to find your happy life, Imi.” He sounded accusatory. As though I had done something wrong. As if by not going to the beach, I had let him down in some way. It irritated me.
But it also made me feel ashamed. Because even though I loved my job, I had very little else to show for myself.
My marriage had failed. I didn’t have any children. Sure, my mother and I were on better terms, but that really depended on the day.
I had little depth to my life and while I had thought myself content with the existence I led, I realized now that wasn’t true.
The realization made me defensive.
“What about you? Is this what you consider a happy life? Still living in abandoned houses, scrounging for food, barely getting by? Is it a happy life to contract hepatitis B and not realize it? To have so little regard for your health and safety that you would be in a position to contract it in the first place?” I stared out over the park. “You lied, Yoss. You were going to do something better. You told me over and over again that that part of your life was over. Your promises are all broken. Why should I have bothered to keep mine?”
Yoss was silent.
Our breath puffed out in front of us. Small, white clouds drifting off into nothing.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
On and on. Constant and continuous. Infinite.
“Tell me a story, Imi.”
I sighed. “I’m not in the mood for fairytales, Yoss. I haven’t been for a long time.”
He looked at me, his eyes full of remorse and something else. Something stronger. Something that made my heart constrict and my throat tighten. “Then tell me a true story. Something that really happened. Something happy. Something about you.”
“I don’t think I have one of those kinds of stories.”