Текст книги "My Butterfly"

Автор книги: Laura Miller

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Forty-Two
Radio

I pulled back into the makeshift parking lot behind the stage and killed the engine. Then, I forced out a heavy sigh and lowered my head onto the steering wheel and let it rest there.

“Will,” I heard a voice shout out a second later.

I lifted my head to Chris staring at me from the other side of my window.

“They’re lookin’ for you for the radio,” he said.

I took a moment and then nodded my head.

“Okay,” I said.

I sighed and then slowly pulled on the door handle and stepped out onto the soft soil again.

“They’re around the side,” I heard Chris say.

I looked up at him and nodded my head again. Then, I shuffled around the corner of the stage and stopped. In front of me was a van with a radio station logo painted across its body. Its back doors were open, and there was a guy standing right beside one of the doors talking into a tiny mic that was attached to a big set of headphones. He noticed me and waved me over.

I hesitated, then took a deep breath in and then slowly forced it out. And before I knew it, I was being escorted to the van and fit with my own tiny mic and set of big headphones.

“This is 98.7 Wolf Country, and this is Jason David standing here with local heartthrob Will Stephens,” the host said. “Will, tell us what it felt like to sing for the first time in front of your hometown.”

I didn’t say anything at first. Instead, I looked up and caught Matt standing a few yards away twirling his finger in a sideways, circular motion at me. My gaze froze on his moving finger for a second. Then, I quickly forced my attention back to Jason David and cleared my throat.

“Well, it was a pleasure,” I said.

As soon as I had gotten the words out, my eyes lowered and caught the outline of a small box inside my jeans pocket. I took another deep breath and then cleared my throat again and tried my best to force out more words.

“I had my mom and dad and my grandma in the first row,” I said and then stopped.

I looked up and caught Matt’s stare again. Now, he seemed to be nodding me onward.

“And,” I continued, “I looked down one time, and even through the lights, I could see my grandma bustin’ some moves.”

I tried to make the words that came out of my mouth sound happy, though I knew they were soft and unsure as to what happy actually was without her.

“So, that was Grandma down there?” Jason asked. “I thought that was your sister.”

I laughed, and it took me by surprise. I wasn’t sure I would be able to laugh again.

“No, seriously,” I said and then stopped.

My voice was still quiet. I concentrated hard on making it more audible.

“It was great, a real treat for me to be here and to play for all of the people who have supported me to this point,” I said.

“Now, Will, let us not forget what this whole concert is about,” he said. “It’s about raising some support for those victims of the recent floods, right? Tell us a little about that.”

“Yeah, uh, this whole night was for those who have been affected by the flooding,” I said and then took a second before I continued.

“My heart goes out to all those who have lost homes or livelihoods, and I’m just asking everyone, even after tonight, to continue to give to local efforts to support victims and to remember to keep them in their prayers,” I said.

“Well, thanks so much, Will, for coming out and speaking with us tonight,” Jason said. “It’s definitely a great cause to support.”

There was a short pause then, and Jason’s eyes quickly darted toward mine. It caught me off guard.

“I just have one more question,” he said. “You didn’t think you’d get out of this interview without me asking it, did you?”

I nervously chuckled, secretly dreading his question.

“No, I suppose not. Fire away,” I said, eventually.

“Well,” he said, “Will, we’ve never heard that last song, and it was pretty obvious to me that it was about a special girl in your life. Care to tell us about that?”

I sat there, frozen and speechless, while the moments of my life with Julia – both the ones I kept close and the ones I still dreamed of – were awakened again inside my chest and now threatened to erupt. I desperately tried to swallow them back down.

“Well, it was for a special girl,” I finally said. “She was my high school sweetheart.”

“Was she here tonight?” I barely heard him ask.

All of sudden, it felt as if I were in a small tunnel with all my memories buzzing past me instead of in the open, empty field.

“Uh, yes, she was here tonight,” I said.

“Well, where is she now?” he asked.

I let silent moments pass. Honestly, I hoped she was still here, that she had changed her mind, that she had stayed. But what is hope if it’s not fleeting?

“Well, I recon she’s on her way back to South Carolina,” I said.

I knew there was a sadness tightly wrapped around my voice now, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt’s head slowly lower.

“South Carolina, huh?” Jason asked. “So, does this mean you’re still on the market, for all those ladies listening tonight?”

A smile somehow squeezed past my lips.

“I’m pretty sure there wouldn’t be any of those ladies here,” I reassured him. “See, they all knew me in junior high.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed.

“But no, sir, to answer your question,” I continued. “I’m taken, and I have been since I was sixteen or six. It’s all the same,” I confessed into the little mic.

I watched him nod his head.

“Well, all right, if she’s listening now, is there something you’d like to say to her?” he asked.

“I…,” I started and then stopped.

I was fighting back a stampede of emotions. My eyes were locked on my pocket and on the small box holding the life I thought I would have with her.

“I just want her to know that she’s still the same beautiful, after all these years, and that I’m here – always.”

Chapter Forty-Three
One Knee

I thanked Jason and pulled the headset from my ears and set it down.

“I’m sorry, man,” Matt said, as he walked over to me and patted my shoulder.

I glanced up at him but then quickly lowered my eyes.

“I just need a minute, Matt,” I said, starting to walk away.

“Sure, buddy,” he said.

I took off for the fence line and made my own path alongside it. It was dark, and there were trees grown up around me, so I felt hidden from the world. I walked until the posts and the wire ran out and the trees stopped. Then, I planted my feet and took a deep breath, breathing in the familiar smell of tall grasses and dirt. I let it fill my lungs, and then I sent it back out into the cool air again.

What was I supposed to do without her?

The sound of metal hitting metal forced my attention back to the stage behind me. I turned but couldn’t see anything from where I stood. I figured they must have started cleaning up.

I sighed and then started my slow hike back to the stage. But this time, I followed the line of grass that had been pressed down by tires. I knew the line led to the makeshift parking lot, so I didn’t even bother to look up as I set one foot in front of the other and tried to think about my last conversation with Jules. I tried really hard to replay it in my head, but somehow, I just couldn’t. Then, I tried to think of what day it was, but I couldn’t think of that either. God, would I even be able to think without her?

I heard something else slam hard against what sounded like a bed of a truck. The loud noise forced my eyes upward again. Then, suddenly, I stopped.

“Julia.”

She turned in the plastic chair and then quickly stood up.

“Wha…,” I started to say.

I swallowed hard and tried again.

“Did you forget something?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure if I had spoken loud enough for her to have heard me or even if I had spoken at all.

She was quiet for a moment, and she didn’t move. Then, I watched as her eyes fell into mine and stayed there.

“Yes,” she said, finally.

My breaths became short, and I tried to swallow again.

“I forgot how much I love you,” she said.

I watched the sides of her lips anxiously turn up. Then, suddenly, I noticed that I couldn’t move, and my heart began a violent pounding against the inside of my chest.

“Could you use a hand?” she asked, taking a quick glance around at the field of plastic chairs before settling her gaze on me again.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t speak. This went on for seconds, maybe even minutes. Then, finally, the words came.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

A faint smile found my broken lips.

“You’re even more beautiful than in dreams,” I said, feeling my smile widen. “Though, I’m still prayin’ like crazy this isn’t one.”

Her pretty stare was still on me when I finished. She was smiling, but her eyes were pleading with me to do something. I remembered those eyes.

I forced my legs to come alive again, and I took a couple of steps in her direction, keeping my gaze locked in hers for my journey to her place in the field. And eventually, I planted my feet directly in front of her. But instead of taking her into my arms and squeezing her close – like I wanted so much to do – I stopped. I had one more thing to do that just couldn’t wait.

I felt my lips start to turn up as I bent down and touched one knee to the soil and the grass. Then, I reached into my jeans pocket, felt for a small box and pulled it out. I turned the box over in my hand, feeling its soft velvet against my fingertips. There was still a part of me trying to figure out if this were all real. But after a moment, I brought the velvet box to view in between us and lifted it toward her. And with my other hand, I took the lid and slowly pulled it back.

“Julia Austin Lang,” I began, “I love you more than anything in this world, and I could never imagine spending a second more of my life without you. And I’ve more than learned life’s lesson. I’m not gonna let you get away again.”

I paused to let my smile grow wider.

“Jules, will you marry me – some day very soon?”

I watched as her lips fell open and her hand rushed to cover them. Her green eyes were big and bright, but she made no sound.

I kept my eyes in hers, feeling every, exaggerated heartbeat in my chest.

Then, eventually, I spotted a smile behind her delicate fingers. And soon after, a nod followed.

I lowered my eyelids and then my head.

“Thank you, God,” I whispered to myself.

Then, I lifted my eyes to hers again. I was pretty sure a smile was permanently tattooed to my face as I rose to my feet. And once I was standing, I gently took her hand from her lips and slipped the ring onto her pretty ring finger. Then, I brought my forehead to hers and breathed in her perfume and her smile and this moment. And when I couldn’t take not holding her for one more second, I scooped her up into my arms.

She squealed her little, high-pitched squeal and wrapped her arms around my neck, as I put my lips to her ears.

“Thank you for coming back to me, Jules,” I whispered.

A moment went by. Then, I felt her breaths near my ear.

“I told you I’d come back,” she whispered, as she rested her head gently against my shoulder. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

* * *

“You ready?” I asked her.

She flashed me a wide smile.

“Okay, no turning back now,” I playfully warned her.

She shook her head back and forth and laughed that pretty laugh of hers.

“Everyone,” I announced, “this is my wife-to-be.”

I held Jules’s hand tightly in mine.

The heads in the tiny bar, which was more crowded than usual, all spun in our direction. I found Jules’s pretty eyes and waited for her to find mine. She did seconds later. I smiled at her with a smile that could only be for her. And as she held her gaze in mine, the corners of her lips started to rise again. And right then, I saw in her every moment that made her, her and every moment that made us, us. I saw her blond hair bathed in the sun’s rays as she sat atop a set of monkey bars, laughing and calling out my name. I saw the fire’s flames dancing on the gold in her eyes the night I knew she had found it in her heart to see me differently than her monkey-bar days. On her sweet lips, I saw the words she had wanted to say in the years we had been apart but just somehow couldn’t because it wasn’t the right time. And I saw all our goodbyes and our hurts written on her face, but now, they were also intertwined with our hopes and our dreams and the moments that now bind us together. And I couldn’t help but think right then: I love this girl.

“To Will and Julia,” I suddenly heard Jeff shout from the back of the bar.

“To Will and Julia,” the people echoed.

And then, as if it were fate itself smiling down on us – or maybe just Jeff, now standing at the juke box – a song came pouring through the walls. And it was a song about us.

“Our last, first dance?” I asked, extending my hand toward Jules.

She smiled at me again and then touched her hand to mine.

I took her hand and led her to the tiny dance floor. Then, I wrapped my other arm around the small of her back and pulled her close.

“Tell me this is real,” I said.

I could hear her softly laughing.

“I believe this is real,” she said.

“Jules,” I said then.

I pulled back and found her eyes.

“I’ll quit the firefighting gig,” I said.

She sent a puzzled look up to my face.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why would you do that?”

“I know about your dad,” I whispered near her ear.

Her eyes started to gloss over.

“I mean, I didn’t know until just recently,” I said.

“No,” she said, stopping me and pressing her head against my chest. “I want you just the way you are.”

I paused then and let a slow and steady breath escape past my lips. Then, I pulled her closer, closed my eyes and let my head come to rest on the top of hers as I breathed in the smell of her hair and breathed out a smile.

Chapter Forty-Four
I Do

“Will, you ready?” Jeff asked.

I found his goofy stare and then lowered my head and smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Ten years.”

I met his gaze again. He was smiling too.

“Let’s go,” I said, standing up and readjusting my collar.

As I walked past him, he put his hand on my shoulder and followed me out. We made our way across the street and through a grassy knoll. Then, I stopped when I saw the people. They were our family and close friends, and they were sitting around the gazebo that sat at the edge of the levee. I took a deep breath and then felt a smile start to edge up my face. A moment passed as I reflected back on the journey to this very place. Every grand adventure has its own missteps, right? Luckily, mine didn’t do me in.

“You have the rings, right?” I asked, eventually turning to Jeff.

I watched as he reached his hand into the pocket of his slacks, and suddenly, his face went blank.

My heart sped up, and my eyes widened.

“Jeff,” I said, dramatically drawing out the letters in his name.

We stood there staring at each other for several seconds – neither one of our expressions changing; his was blank and mine was setting into panic – before the left side of Jeff’s mouth started to lift into a grin.

“I’m just pullin’ your leg, buddy,” he said, snickering to himself.

Speechless, I watched as he pulled out a small, black box, held it out and then quickly shoved it back into his pocket.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep, slow breath.

“But I do have a piece of advice for ya, buddy,” he said, patting my shoulder.

I found his eyes again.

“You sure?” I asked him.

He flashed me a puzzled look. Then, he seemed to catch on.

“No, no,” he said. “I think this is pretty good advice for once. It’s actually from my dad.”

“Well, in that case,” I said, starting to smile again.

“All right,” he said. “My dad always told me that there are two sides to every argument.”

I kept one eye narrowed on him.

“Okay,” I said, slowly starting to nod my head.

“Well,” he continued. “You find out which side is hers, and you jump on it. Then, you both win.”

I closed my eyes, lowered my head and laughed.

“Thanks, Jeff,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “That’s probably pretty good advice.”

He smiled his proud, goofy grin.

“But now, I have some advice of my own for ya,” Jeff said. “And it’s not like all the other advice.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “What is it?”

“You love her?” he asked.

I met his stare. His face was straight and serious.

“Of course,” I said, as my lips edged up a little higher at the thought.

“And you’ve loved her ever since you could spell your own name – well, the short version anyway?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head.

“And you lost her once?” he asked.

My smile faded, and I lowered my eyes and nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I said, eventually.

“Then, Will,” he said and then stopped.

I lifted my eyes again.

“Don’t ever let her get away again,” he said.

I felt a grin fighting its way to my face.

“I won’t,” I said, shaking my head.

“All righty,” he said, pushing me forward. “Now, let’s go get you two high school lovebirds hitched. It’s about damn time.”

I smiled wider and then took the last few steps to the gazebo and planted my feet in front of it. The air was warm – almost hot in my suit. I adjusted my jacket and then spotted my mom and dad in the front row. They both smiled that proud smile that parents get sometimes. Then, my gaze caught a piece of the river behind the levee and fell onto the butterfly weeds that danced along its edges. I gently smiled as my eyes lingered on the flowers for a few more seconds and my grandmother’s words replayed in my head: They bring the butterflies back.

Yes, they do, Grandma. Yes, they do.

The song of a violin suddenly forced my attention back to the aisle runner, and what I saw there made my heart skip a beat. There, standing at its end, was a pretty girl – my butterfly.

She was beautiful. The sun’s rays were cast against her silhouette, and her hair was down. And there was a veil over her face, but I could still see her pretty, green eyes and her pretty, soft lips. And I watched her lips now as they turned up into a soft smile.

I smiled too and memorized the way she took her slow, perfect steps, each one bringing her closer to me.

Her dress was simple but perfect. I noticed it now. It looked as though it was made for her. It was the kind that didn’t have any straps and that showed off her sun-kissed shoulders and arms – the kind that made me long to touch the places it didn’t. And in her hands were little, orange flowers – butterfly weeds. My smile beamed across my face, as my eyes made their way back to the green in hers.

Finally, she got close enough that I could touch her, and I reached for her hand. She planted her eyes in mine and gave me that playful, happy look that always drove me crazy. Then, she handed her flowers to Rachel and placed her hand in mine. There was a second where my eyes were locked in hers, and I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. Then, I felt something soft nudging against the palm of my hand. My gaze darted to our hands and then back up into her eyes. She was still smiling, but that didn’t keep my heart from starting to race. I didn’t need any more surprises today. I just needed her to say I do and then to love me for the rest of my life.

My gaze found our hands again. Then, I took the object and turned it over. It was a napkin, and there was writing on it – a couple of lines. I breathed in another slow, deep breath and then allowed my eyes to carefully follow over each word: Since my wish has come true, I guess I can tell you now. It was for you – for always. Love, Jules.

When I finished reading the words on the napkin, I reached for her other hand. My mind was already rushing back to the hood of my old truck and a warm, starry night when I brought my lips close to her ear.

“Thanks for marrying a country boy, pretty girl,” I whispered.

I watched as her lips started to part and then form a soft smile.

“I love you,” I whispered near her ear again.

Her eyes found and searched mine for a second. Then, her lips fell open.

“I’ve always loved you,” she whispered. “I’ve always loved you, country boy.”

Epilogue

I’ve only got one story – the only story I live to tell. It’s about a girl. She was my first love, and she was my last love. And she was every love in between. Julia Lang stole my heart probably from the moment that I first laid eyes on her. Yes, that moment when she was in pigtails wanting to ride the big tractor at my grandpa’s store – that same moment I chased her off – I loved her then too. But, as life would have it, it would take me a few more years to figure out what it was that I felt for her then – what this love stuff was all about. Yet, even in her pigtail days, I always knew there was something in those moments – in those little moments when she waited with me, her hand on my knee, calming my fears or when she smiled and made me believe I was the only one in the world worth smiling for. In those little moments, she made me want to know her more. And like I have said, she was my first love, and little did I know at seven or at seventeen that I would spend the rest of my life chasing after that pretty girl – to college, across the country, across town to that dusty, gravel road where we spent a lot of our days and a lot of our nights too and even across the lawn when we played tag with the children we would raise together. I didn’t know then where life would lead us, but I didn’t have to know either. Love has a funny way of hiding the past and the future, so that the only moment that matters is right in front of you.

But I did make some mistakes in my life – lost some years I shouldn’t have, but then, I guess, that’s life. And that’s youth, I guess, too – always being wasted on the young. But in the end, I’m pretty sure that life is all about finding your way through it, around it, over it, any way it takes to get to the one you love.

Jules, I’m sorry I didn’t find my way to you faster.

My eyes follow over the words again I have written to the love of my life, knowing she’ll come across them one night as she sits next to an empty chair. The words in the letter aren’t anything I haven’t already said, but my hope is that they will remind her of some things after the good Lord takes me home.

A deep breath fills my lungs, and then I feel it escape past my lips in my next exhale. I just want her to know that I love her and that I’ll be waiting for her. And I want to remind her to live, to live each day just like she always has – full.

I reread the last piece of the letter:

Now, you and I both know that I’ll wait a lifetime for you– remember, Butterfly Weeds never give up. So take your time down there. And tonight, as you watch that big, orange sun disappear into the earth and your world gradually grow dark, I’ll help God turn on the stars, and I’ll wait for my dawn – when you return to me, Julia Stephens.

I love you, My Butterfly. You’ll always be my endless song.

I know I’ll be there with her, just like every night before, as she writes her life’s story in her journal and we watch the sun escape back into the lake. The only difference then will be that I won’t be right beside her. Instead, I’ll be watching her from above.

“Daddy,” I hear my oldest say as she enters my room. “How are you doing?”

My thoughts are put on hold, as I quickly turn over and lay into my lap the letter to her mom.

My little girl, who’s not so little anymore, makes her way over to me and kisses the bald spot on my head. She has a worried look on her face, but I know she doesn’t think I can tell. She tries to wear her pain on the inside. She always has. It’s the trademark of the oldest sibling, I think. She smiles and speaks in this calm and upbeat kind of way. But I’m her father. I recognize the hurt in her eyes. I only wish I could make it disappear.

It’s hard when your children get older and a simple hug or reassuring word can’t make the monsters or the fear of the dark simply disappear. Somewhere in the course of life, children struggles morph into adult ones, and the pain becomes too deeply rooted for a hug or a word to cure anymore. But it’s life, I remind myself again. And we must go through all of it – the good and the not-so-good – to be with the ones we love – even if it is on the other side.

“I’m as good as I’ve ever been, my dear, now that you’re here,” I say to my daughter’s brave expression.

I smile and stretch out my arms to hug her, forever hoping that a hug can still heal even a small piece of her heart today.

“Mom said you haven’t been feeling well today,” she says and takes a seat in the chair beside my bed.

Her expression hasn’t changed. It’s calm and soft.

“Oh, your mom worries about me too much,” I say, with a gentle smile.

I watch her lips slowly rise at their corners.

“But dear,” I say and rest my creased palm on her own, delicate hand.

Her eyes meet mine.

“Your mom’s a strong woman,” I say and then pause.

I see her eyes turning sad as her poker face slightly falters.

“After all, she put up with me for fifty years,” I say.

Her eyes turn down as she laughs to herself. I secretly wish I could see her laugh more – see all my children laugh more. My children know my time here is coming to a close. They’re wrestling with the one certainty of life we all must face at some point. It’s not easy, I know. I wish I could heal them and erase their fears, but again, I know I can’t. But that’s why God made grandchildren, I guess. Aah, the blessing of grandchildren. They know not of life’s trials or its most hated foe. My grandchildren are wonderfully oblivious, and they still laugh. And I love their laughter. If it weren’t for them, I fear that there would be very little laughter in my last days.

“But take care of her – your mom – will you, dear?” I ask her when our eyes meet again. “Just come visit her when you can and bring your two, little ones, and tell Jackson and Abigail to do the same.”

She lets out a sad sigh and pushes her lips together. Then, a renegade tear escapes from her eye, and I reach up to wipe it away.

“I love you, Austin,” I say. “You’ve always been so strong, like your mom.”

She squeezes my hand and holds it tightly.

“I love you too, Daddy, and I will,” she says, slowly nodding her head.

Then, we hear a “mommy” echoing through the hallway. It’s one of her little ones. The voice sounds shaken but not life-threatened. It’s probably nothing a kiss and a Band-Aid can’t heal.

Austin rises from her chair, still holding my hand. Then, she kisses my head and rests my hand back onto the bed before turning to tend to her child. I watch her hurry to the doorway, but before she disappears into the hallway, I remember something.

“Austin,” I say, regaining her attention.

“Yes, Daddy?” she asks, as she turns around.

I gather the letter from my lap, carefully fold it twice and hold it out toward her.

“Will you put this in your mother’s journal?” I ask.

She hesitates, her eyes locked on the cream stationery.

“Sure, Daddy,” she says, walking back toward me.

I release the letter into her keeping and softly smile. She forces a smile too. It’s a knowing smile. It understands. I’m thankful and also saddened – only because I can’t make her hurt go away. It’s all a part of life, I tell myself. And I would tell her the same, except that she already knows.

“Mommy.”

We both hear the little voice calling from the hallway again.

“Go,” I say, smiling wider and nodding in her direction.

She glances at the letter pressed in between her soft fingers, and then she looks back up at me. I watch her take a deep breath, and I can tell she’s fighting back tears.

“Go, go,” I say, chuckling and shooing her out the door. “And bring him in here once you’ve made him all better.”

She smiles one, last time and then turns and exits the room, with the letter in her hand.

I rest my head back against the headboard behind me after she’s gone. I’m well aware that my time here is short, and there are no late check-outs when the Big Man calls you home. I know that, and anyway, I’m not looking for any. I’ve said my peace, and I’ve lived a good life – a full life, with my butterfly at my side. That’s all I ever wanted. And now, I have a new mission – to spend forever with her. Get to forever. Get to forever. Meet her at the gates of forever – do what I’ve got to do to meet her there, so she has someone there waiting for her, so she’s not alone.

I turn and reach inside the nightstand drawer next to the bed and pull out her photo.

“My Jules,” I whisper, as I clutch the old photo in both hands.

And suddenly, a silhouette appears in the doorway. I look up and then quickly shove the photo under my leg and fight back my tears. I can’t explain the tears. I’m at peace, but I guess it’s still hard knowing I have to leave her for a little while.

“I brought you some tea, dear,” she says, shuffling into the room.

I watch her make her way toward me, set the tea tray down onto the nightstand and then fall slowly into the chair beside the bed.

“Thank you, sweetie,” I say, meeting her eyes and gently smiling.

Her eyes are the same – the same eyes I remember from her pigtail days and her cut-off-jeans days and her eight-months-pregnant days. They’re soft and sexy and beautiful. I smile again at the thought. The only thing I didn’t see back then was just how loving they really are.

“Here,” she softly says, bringing the cup to my hands.

I notice her eyes lock onto the photo. A piece of it is sticking out, revealing the side of her young face. She acts as if she doesn’t see it, and she meets my eyes again and smiles.

“I love you, Will Stephens,” she says.

I take the tea cup in one hand and squeeze her soft, creased hand with the other. I look deep into her eyes then. I’m remembering all the moments that we loved and we cried and we loved so much that it made us cry. And I’m remembering all the hell we put ourselves through just to realize we should have been together from that very first moment. I love those moments, though. I love every one of them now. They’re our story now. Every mistake, every hurt, every joy, every longing – it’s ours, only ours.

“Jules,” I start to say, and for some reason, I just can’t get the words out.

I’m fighting back the tears in my eyes, and I’m remembering a lifetime of memories, and I just can’t get the words out to let her know how much love I have for her. I feel my lips quivering, and I quickly press them tightly together.