Page 3 of Stained Hearts
“Sure.” I really had no idea, but I just needed him to be at peace.
I’m not sure when Brian passed away, but the night had gone dark. As if sensing my mourning, everything around us was still. Taking out my phone, I called the hospital and told them that he had died. They sent an ambulance, and the EMTs found me still cradling the body of my husband. A numbness sapped any strength I had, and I was grateful to the men who took me to the hospital, because I wouldn’t have been able to get there on my own.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of calls and letters, the funeral—Brian had asked to be cremated and wanted his ashes laid to rest in his favorite place in the whole world, Yellowstone National Park. He loved the beauty and tranquility of the place. Of course, I would follow his instructions to the letter, but I wasn’t prepared for what I found when I opened his urn. Brian was always so full of life. He personified grace and beauty in all things. And now? My husband was nothing but a white powder, like something I cleaned out of our fireplace. Upon seeing what was left of my Brian, I broke down in tears. Still, I sucked it up and did what he asked, burying his ashes beneath a tree that he’d carved our initials on decades ago.
Going home—to the house we had bought together a lifetime ago—was bittersweet. I could sense his presence everywhere, and more than once the memories of the life we shared overwhelmed me. Stupid things, like sitting down to watch a favorite TV show, became hollow and empty without him next to me. Going to bed, knowing his side would stay forever cool, had me moving out onto the couch. Not comfortable by any means, but still a damn sight better than rolling over to wrap my arm around him and finding him gone. Again.
One night, a few months in, a storm blew through Milwaukee. The power flickered several times, until it went out completely. I lit a candle in the living room and sat there, watching the lightning flash outside. A sense of melancholy washed over me, and I found myself on the verge of tears once more. I got up and went to the bookcase, where Brian and I had spent a lifetime gathering books from favored authors. I reached up and pulled out my personal favorite,Charlotte’s Web. Taking a seat on the couch once more, I opened the cover, and a piece of paper fluttered out and landed on my lap. I put the book aside, reached down, grabbed the paper, and unfolded it.
Tommy….
So since you’re reading this, I’ve got to assume that the cancer has finally won. We both knew it would, but I’m not ready to leave you to your own devices just yet.
Hot tears streaked my cheeks. It was as if a scab had been torn from a raw, painful wound that had never really healed. I needed his words more than I ever thought I could need something.
I’ve got so many things I’m sorry for. That we didn’t get to celebrate our silver anniversary comes to mind. I’d fully intended on surprising you with a trip to Mexico so we could go parasailing, but I’m guessing that never happened. Too bad. I was looking forward to soaring over the ocean with you.
I choked back a laugh. “Liar.”
Well, I hope that got a laugh out of you, because we both know I would have happily stood on the ground and waved at you, but no way in hell would you have gotten me up there. If God had meant for man to fly, he would have given us wings.
I was never a believer in religion. Having seen too many times the way it was used to put pressure on people, I could never get behind the idea. Oh, I was spiritual, but that was only to the extent of empowering people. Still, if heaven did exist, Brian was up there, looking down on me, cursing the wings that he’d been given.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but knowing you as well as I do, I’m going to guess maybe a few months at best. I figured you’d go for Charlotte at some point, so that’s why I left this letter here for you to find. I just want you to know, no matter what happened or what will happen from this moment forward, my heart always belonged to you.
Maybe by now you’ve met someone—though I doubt it—and you’re happy. If that’s the case, then know you’ve done what I wanted. Don’t mourn me forever, Tommy. It’s not in your nature to be alone. I want—no, Ineed—you to go out and find someone special. If you won’t do it for you, do it for me.
He was crazy. He had to be. No one could replace him in my life. The thought of it was beyond insane. I glanced up at the picture on the wall of the two of us holding out a slice of wedding cake for the other to take a bite from. I frowned, trying to understand what in his mind made him think I could move on. A deep, shuddering sigh rolled out of me as I went back to his letter.
I can hear you arguing, you know. I’ve already said you’re not meant to be alone. You need someone to hold you at night so you can sleep. To wake up with you in the morning so the day is heralded with love. Please, Tommy, you need this. Maybe not now, but one day. Don’t shut yourself off, because it hurts me to think that so much love would be lost to the world.
Now, get back to reading. I’m sure Charlotte is waiting to whisk you away to a new world.
And remember, you’ve always been the only one to have my love.
Brian.
I set the book on the table beside the couch and put my head in my hands. My heart ached, a battle of both sadness and joy warring for dominance. He was right—no one in the world knew me like he did. Almost a quarter of a century together had that effect on people. He could tell with nothing more than a glance when I needed him to hug me or when he needed to back off. He could make me laugh with a quirk of his brow or bring me to tears when he sang my favorite song, softly crooning in my ear, reminding me of our wedding, when he got up, grabbed the microphone, and belted out Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” in a rich, sonorous tenor.
When he finished, no one in the hall had a dry eye. He handed the mic over to someone and strode to me, our gazes locked. “How did I get so lucky?” His voice was thick with emotion. “If you were smart, you’d run off and have the life you’ve always dreamed of.”
I grabbed him by the back of his head, gripping his hair. “Funny thing about dreams is that as we grow up, we’re given new ones that let us know the others were just musings of a child’s mind. When I met you, everything I thought I needed went out the window, and you were the only thing left.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but I kissed him hard. I could feel the warmth of his tears as they mingled with mine. I knew that I would spend the rest of my life reminding him he was loved, and the thought had filled me with hope for my—our—future.
I stretched out on the couch and closed my eyes. I knew I’d dream of Brian, just like I had every night since he died. They always ended the same way, though: me curled up on the couch, clutching the small, sunflower-patterned pillow that Brian had made, with a hole in my heart that I knew would never heal.
All this talk about moving on? How in the hell was I supposed to do that without him? Hell, I hadn’t even realized what life could be like until I saw him, held him in my arms, had him under me. We were each other’s first and last, and that was perfectly fine with me.
Chapter Two
I LOVEmy family. They’re the most amazing people on the face of the planet, but… yeah, there’s always abut. My mom kept calling, wanting me to come for dinner. Dad wanted me to come to watch a game with him. Robert wanted me to go out with him and Galen. I thanked them all, but told them no. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them, I just didn’t have the strength to deal with the pity I knew I’d see on all their faces. I got enough of that when I looked in the mirror.
The thing is, though, my family was there for me. They would always be there for me. Every time someone called, I couldn’t help but think back to Brian and what he’d confessed to me, and the pain it brought both of us. Him because of what happened, and me because I couldn’t take that pain away from him. And though I didn’t want to think about it, I couldn’t help but relive the memories again.
That first year in college, when it came time for us to go back to Milwaukee for the holidays, Brian demurred. He told me he’d rather wait at home. At first I thought it was his fear of heights and being up in a plane, but when I said I’d drive us from our dorm in Northfield, Minnesota, to my parents’ home, he went as white as a sheet. I pulled him to my chest and asked him to let me in on what was wrong. I wasn’t expecting the story he gave me.
“My parents are strict traditionalists. It was expected that I was going to come to school and meet a young Asian woman, with whom I would fall in love. I would marry her, and she would bear my children. When I tried to explain to them that it was not the life I wanted, they….” He clenched his fists, and his bottom lip trembled.
