The Maidening Ceremony

Arilya burst through the surface of the water and flung her hair over her shoulder.  Her pink skin shone as it absorbed sunlight for the first time, and she propelled herself into the air, performing a perfect back flip and dive.  Her fins slipped back into the water effortlessly and without a splash.  She felt completely alive.

The dream of emerging from the ocean’s icy depths and feeling warmth caress her skin recurred every night.  Arilya had been waiting for this rite of passage since she was three years old.  Since her mother told her about her own first out-of-water experience, and every day since had just been one wave closer to her seventeenth birthday.

It is amazing above the water.  Sounds are clearer and colors are vibrant.  But I must warn you, Arilya, you may never touch land.  Death awaits the merperson who leaves the water and feels the earth.

When Arilya woke up on this fateful morning, she could barely stop her fins from swimming her straight to the surface, but she knew she must wait for the ceremony that would announce to all she was no longer a merphin, but instead, a full grown mermaid.  No one had told her the ceremony would be a wedding.  That part of the fairy tale told to merchildren had been conveniently left out.

You’ll just have to wait and see, Arilya.  The traditions of the Ceremony cannot be known until you are old enough for your own.

“Arilya, are you ready to go?” Dalphen cried out.  Her father was insistent she be on time for the Maidening Ceremony, but Arilya never liked to follow the rules. While he swam impatiently back and forth outside her cove, she and Finley stole away and made love on a bed of kelp.

“Oh Finley, will life still be this perfect tomorrow when I’m a mermaid?”

“Your life will always be perfect, because you are perfect, Arilya.”  He twitched his long yellow fin towards her, and her pink cheeks blushed a brilliant shade of violet.

“Will the world still be this colorful tomorrow when I’m a mermaid?”

“The world around you will always be colorful, Arilya, because you are like a rainbow among the storm clouds.”

“What is a rainbow, Finley?”

“Ah, you will see, Arilya, when you go to the surface.”

“Will I see storm clouds, too?”

“No, they will depart from the sky as soon as you appear, your loveliness will scare them away.  They only like dark and dreary things.  And you, Arilya, can never be dark and dreary.”

“Will you still love me tomorrow when I am a mermaid, Finley?”

“I will still love you tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day for eternity.”  He took her hands and wrapped them around his neck, smothering her lips with his mouth and caressing her blue tailfin with his own yellow one.  Finley knew if Dalphen knew about his love for the merman’s daughter, the safest place for him to swim would be in a monsoon, but he didn’t care.  He’d face hurricanes and sharks and piranhas before he gave up Arilya.

“I suppose I HAVE to go to the ceremony, now.”  Arilya sighed as she disentangled her fin from his.

“If you ever want to see the surface you do.”

“I definitely want to see the surface.”

“Well, then you must go.  But come find me here, after you taste the air.”

“What is air, Finley?”

“Ah, you will know it when you taste it.”

“But how will I know what to put in my mouth to taste if I don’t know what it is?”

“Ah, you won’t have to put it in your mouth, it will enter without your permission.”

“I don’t know if I like that.  The only thing I want entering my mouth without my permission is you!”  Giggling, she tapped her fin on his chest as she abruptly turned and swam away.  He allowed a reasonable distance between them before swimming after her and making his way to the ceremony.

The curse inflicted on him at his own Maning Ceremony last year prevented him from warning her.  But it wouldn’t prevent him from trying to stop the wedding.  And if he failed, it wouldn’t prevent him from trying to swim away with her tonight after she returned from the surface and met him on their bed of kelp.  He knew the penalty, knew he wouldn’t succeed in either endeavor, but again, he didn’t care, he would try anything for her.

As Arilya arrived at the preparation cove, her mother Chaslie, and sisters rushed out to greet her.  Chaslie enveloped her youngest daughter in a cold embrace, and when Arilya pulled away she found a necklace of shimmering black pearls encircling her throat.

“A tradition of the Maidening Ceremony.  The pearls will keep you young and beautiful for as long as you wear them,” Chaslie crooned.

“Is that why you forever have looked seventeen, mother?”  Arilya asked, touching the beads around her neck.  As her fingers brushed across their smooth surface, an electric jolt pulsed through her hands and down her arms, moving into chest and fin.

“Yes, I have worn my pearls ever since my own Maidening Ceremony, many, many years ago.  Should I ever remove them, I would shrivel up and die!”  Chaslie and her daughters laughed at the joke, knowing she would NEVER remove her strand.  But her mother grew serious soon, and continued, “The jolt you felt when you touched the necklace was the power of the pearls being transferred to you.”  Chaslie ended her explanation, unable to inform her daughter of the full extent of the pearls’ power.  Arilya could not learn of the curse of the merpeople until after her Maidening Ceremony.

Arilya again touched the precious jewelry, but her admiration was cut short as her gaggle of sisters flew at her and stripped off the blue seashells covering her breasts.  She protested, but her mother placed a firm hand on her shoulder, ending her cries.

“All merphin wear white seashells on the day of their Maidening Ceremony.  ‘Tis another tradition.”  Producing a pair swathed in seaweed, Chaslie handed them to her daughter, who eagerly unwrapped and held them up.  The whiteness of the shells stood in sharp contrast to her pink skin and blue fin and her hands trembled as she traced her fingers along the outer edges.

“I do not believe I have ever seen anything so white before.  I did not know color could shine like this,” she said with reverence.  “I wish I became a mermaid everyday so I could always wear shells as beautiful as these.”  With all around her watching, she pressed the shells firmly around her breasts and floated back to admire the effect in a mirror.  No sooner had she confirmed her belief that these shells would make her the most gorgeous mermaid who ever treaded these waters, than the shells began to melt into her skin.

“What is happening?  Owww!  Owwwww!  What is going on?  Someone take them off!  Take them off!  They are burning me!”  Her fingers scratched and clawed at the shells while the harem looked on horrified, but to no avail.  The shells would not release her.

Chaslie grabbed her daughter’s fin and bellowed, “Arilya!  You are a filthy whore!  The purity shells have exposed your misdeed.  With whom did you have sex?”

“Whaaat?” she sobbed back, still desperately trying to peel the shells off.

“No matter,” Chaslie regained her composure.  “The burning will only last a few moments longer, and then it will not be visible to your husband until after he removes the shells.  He can punish you as he deems fit.”

“My husband?  What do you mean?”  Fear replaced the pain around Arilya’s heart and her hands fell away from the evil shells.  “Finley and I wish to get married, but we have not told anyone yet.”

“Finley?  Oh, so he is your wicked merman.  It is a good thing the tradition prevents him from warning you.”

“Warning me?  Mother what is going on?”  Tears flowed out of Arilya’s eyes and mingled with the ocean around them.  Chaslie did not answer, but grabbed her daughter’s arm and jerked her away from the preparation cove.  They swam to the entrance of the cavern where all Maidening and Maning ceremonies took place.  Arilya had never been permitted inside before.  Merchildren weren’t allowed to come to the ceremonies.

Chaslie dropped her arm as Dalphen approached them.  He frowned at Arilya and turned to Chaslie. “She is late.  Did all go well with the preparations?”  He glanced from the pearls around his daughter’s throat to the pure white shells covering her chest.  He seemed satisfied, for he did not require an answer of his wife.

“Come.  The ceremony needs to begin.”  This time he gripped his daughter’s arm and pushed her in front of him into the cavern.  Arilya gasped in terror as she saw her friends and family chained by a thick gold coil wrapped around each individual’s wrists and connecting each member of the merpeople community together.  No one looked up as she entered, save Finley.  Catching his eyes as she was pushed past him, she saw anger mingled with pity and sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

Suddenly, she was thrust forward into the center of a smaller circle of merpeople she didn’t recognize.  They did not belong to her community.  Opposite her, a merphan unfamiliar to her was thrust into the circle as well.  His eyes widened as they fell on hers and she knew he shared her fear.  The circle closed in around them and a bright red coil ensnared the wrists of each member.  Arilya cried out in pain as a blazing white coil appeared in the water and began wrapping tightly around her fin and wrists.

“NO!” Finley shouted from the back of the cavern. He struggled against his bindings, flapping and twitching like a fish caught in a net.  “No!  Leave her alone!”  The community ignored his distress.

“Finley, what is happening?  Finley, please stop this, please get me out of here!” Arilya shouted out.  The red circle around her grew tighter and she realized the merphan’s fin and arms were bound in the same white trap.  Dalphen and Chaslie suddenly swam above her head, along with another couple she didn’t know.  Finley screamed, attempting to drown out the beginning of the end.

Dalphen addressed the crowd, “Today, my daughter Arilya becomes a mermaid.”

The unknown merman spoke next, “Today my son Japhet becomes a merman.”

Chaslie and the unknown mermaid spoke together, “The merphin becomes a mermaid, the merphan becomes a merman, only when wed together.  This is the joy of the merpeople.  Only when two becomes one can the other world be known, only when the mermaid and the merman are joined together can their heads break the surface of the water.”

The inner circle began to chant, “Marriage is right.  Love is wrong.  Marriage between two young souls brings peace to the merpeople.  Love between two young souls brings death to the merpeople.  Marriage is right.  Love is wrong.”

Arilya choked on the vomit rising in her throat and struggled fruitlessly against the hot coil burning her pink skin.  “Why are you doing this to me?  I do not wish to marry this stranger!  I am in love with Finley.”  The words tumbled from her mouth, silenced the chant, and carried to Finley.  A sword appeared in front of him and he braced himself against the golden coil restraining his arms, staring death in the face.

Arilya twisted and turned, desperate to see her beloved Finley, but the circle continued to grow tighter around her.  His piercing cry as the sword plunged into his heart was the last sound she heard before the white snake around her cut into her wrist and dragged her into the arms of Japhet.  The coil grew longer and thicker and fused their bodies together.

His fin slipped around hers and she screamed, “NOOO!  I don’t want this, please.”  But there was no escaping the white prison.  The community watched as Japhet plunged his fin into hers.  She sobbed uncontrollably as the rape continued and pleaded with her parents to end the torture.  They merely smirked at her.

When he was finished, Japhet floated backwards, the white coil around his fin and wrists dissolving.  “I’m sorry, Arilya, I did not want to do that to you, the coil made me.”  The guilt smeared across his face told her he was not lying, but she could not look at him for long.  The cords around her disappeared, too, and she tore through the circle back to Finley.  The golden chains holding the community together had fallen away, and Finley lay face up on the cold floor of the cavern, a gaping wound in his chest the only indication a sword took his life.

“Tis the curse of the merpeople, Arilya.  We were given a choice between a life underwater and a life with love.” Chaslie floated above Finley’s lifeless body, “We chose life underwater.  We are given the opportunity to go above the surface once we have sealed the commitment to our choice with an unloving marriage.  Finley himself was married in his Maning ceremony last year.  His wife’s name is Gorschen. He would have left you in a few years anyways.  When a merperson turns 21, they must go and live with their spouse.  He wouldn’t have a choice.”

Arilya did not respond.  She gathered Finley’s head in her hands and cradled it to her scorched bosom.

“The pearls you wear seek out love and destroy it.  Mermen do not have such a precaution bound to them, thus your life was spared.  Finley knew to love you meant death for him.  He was foolish.”  Arilya still did not respond in voice to her mother’s words.  Rather she ripped the pearls from her neck and the broken strand flung the beads in all directions.

“It makes no difference whether you wear the necklace now or not, save that you will not have eternal youth, for the power of the beads already lives in you.  From the first touch, they destroyed your ability to love.”

“No, I still love Finley.  They destroyed my ability to live.”  Arilya shot upwards through the water, sending currents into the cavern.  She kicked her fin ferociously, striving to get to the surface before her mother or father attempted to stop her.

After swimming a few leagues she glanced behind her, only to discover she wasn’t being followed.  They didn’t care if she left.  They didn’t love her.  She pushed on, her heart both broken and numb to the pain caused by this realization.

The water around her became clearer, bluer.  Her fin appeared darker than ever before and she thought she could see a golden orb ahead.  She changed direction slightly and sped along just below the surface.  Every few seconds she would glance upwards, looking for an indication her destination was approaching.  Finally, she saw it.  Finley had described it to her.

Boldly, she thrust her head out of the water and used her arms to propel herself closer.   The waves offered their assistance, and soon she was only a breaststroke away.  Her fingers closed around the grainy sand and she heard Finley’s voice, “I love you, Arilya,” before darkness closed around her.

Title Change

I’ve been trying to think of a more compelling title for Twenty-Five.  You know, something that has a nice ring to it and catches your eye sitting on the bookshelf.  I don’t know if I’ve mastered it, but I’ve been thinking Love Life is on the List.  If you’ve read the book, or even parts of it, or hell, just the summary, then let me know what you think of this new possible title.  I feel like it does a really good job of describing the plot and high points of the book, but I’d love some other opinions.  The book is still on the blog, so if you want to hit a few random chapters and then let me know, go HERE for a chapter listing.

I’m Going to Write a Second Book This Year, I’m Going to Write a Second Book This Year

I’m going to write a second book this year.  I’M GOING TO WRITE A SECOND BOOK THIS YEAR!

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I’ve been really slack about writing for at least the past twelve months.  I lost all faith in myself and my writing abilities and I couldn’t seem to find a story where I liked the characters enough to want to get to know them.  I kept telling myself that writing Twenty-Five was a fluke and that I’d never be able to write another book because I don’t have what it takes.  That Twenty-Five was the only story inside me.

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But I’m determined.  I want to write.  I want to be someone and do something.  I’m sick of feeling sorry for myself that I’m in debt and stuck in a dead-end job and living with my parents.  When I was writing and editing Twenty-Five back in 2009, I felt like I was moving forward and doing something with my life.  I don’t know why I let that momentum slip away.  Fear of rejection and failure, I guess.  Fear that the nagging thought of “I’m not good enough” would be confirmed.

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But that’s all bull shit.  In the end it doesn’t matter if I’m never published or if no one else reads what I write.  If I’m happy with it, if it makes me happy, then everything else is inconsequential.

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In order to boost this determination and momentum that I’m feeling right now, I’ve gathered some books and tools to help me make 2011 the year of my second novel.

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Candice at I Don’t Want To Write! posted a character profile a few days ago that I’m hoping will help me develop real, complex characters.

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I’ve started reading the weekend novelist by Robert J. Ray and Bret Norris and while I don’t plan to actually use it only weekend by weekend, so far it’s giving me some great tips on plotting and I’m only on page 34.

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Creating Unforgettable Characters by Linda Seger.  I began reading this last year, but never finished.  I think I found it too much work, honestly.  But I know that’s what it takes to create an unforgettable character.  Work.  Hard Work.  So I’m going to work harder.

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On Writing Well by William Zinsser.  I haven’t read any of this book yet, but I’m excited to!  It’s meant for nonfiction, but I think the techniques for writing good nonfiction are the same as writing fiction, but nonfiction is more difficult!  Hopefully if I can master nonfiction than fiction will be a breeze!

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And for fun, I bought How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely.  It’s a fictional account of how one man tries to become rich and famous by writing a best-seller.  I wouldn’t mind being rich and famous (obviously) but I don’t think I ever will be.  I bought the book because I’m hoping it will help me see writing with a more comical and lighthearted view and not take myself so seriously.

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I also plan on reading extensive fiction this year, classic and modern.  You can be my friend on Goodreads to follow my progress.  My screenname there is rach_elle19.

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I’m really excited to read My Name is Memory by Ann Brashares, which was recommended to me by my friend Jaclyn.  (Maybe this mention will get her to finally COMMENT on my blog!)  Here’s the blurb:

Lucy Broward is an ordinary girl growing up in the Virginia suburbs, soon to head off to college.  As she prepares for her last high school dance, she allows herself to hope that this might be the night her elusive crush, Daniel Grey, finally notices her.  As teh events of the night unfold, though, Lucy discovers that Daniel is much more complicated than she is imagined, and perceives that there’s something going on here that she really doesn’t understand.  Why does he call her Sophia?  And why does it make her feel so strange?

Daniel Grey is no ordinary young man.  Daniel has “the memory,” the ability to recall past lives and recognize the souls of those he’s previously known.  And he has spent centuries falling in love with the same girl.  Life after life, crossing continents and dynasties, he and Lucy (despite her changing name and form) have been drawn together — and he remembers it all.  It is both a gift and a curse.  For all the many times they have come together throughout history, they have also been torn painfully, fatally, apart.  A love always too short.

As we watch Daniel and Lucy’s relationship unfold during the present day, interwoven are glimpses of their history together.  From 552 Asia Minor to 1918 England and 1972 Virginia, the two souls share a long and sometimes tortuous path of seeking each other time and again.  But just when Lucy begins to awaken to the secret of her past, to understand her relationship to Sophia, and to understand the true reason for the strength of her attraction to Daniel, the mysterious force that has town them apart in the past reappears.  Ultimately, they must confront not just their complicated history, but a persistent adversary as well, if they are ever to spend a lifetime together.

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Sounds pretty good, right (if you ignore the cliched language, which I really hope is from the publisher and not the author)?  You guys know I’m a sucker for a love story.

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So everyone, please cross your fingers for me that I don’t crap out!  I really want to write a second book this year.  I’m GOING TO write a second book this year.

Chapter Forty-Three: The Wedding

Ben

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I beheld an angel gliding towards me.  Sunshine seemed to come from her very soul and her skin was glowing.  The love in her eyes as she looked at me drove joy into my heart and my mouth expanded into a smile.  My blood pumped faster and my hands quivered as she came closer.

*

Finally, she was before me, clinging to her father’s arm, but never taking her eyes from mine.  The minister addressed the crowd.

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“I feel honored to be in the presence of Abigail and Ben’s love today.  I think we all do.  Watching them together, I’m reminded what true love is.  They think of the other with every move they make.  Abigail can’t say his name without a twinkle in her eyes, Ben lights up when she laughs.  Their love is unending.  We are all here today to show our support and love for them and I know they are thankful that each of you is here to celebrate with them.”  He paused and smiled at the crowd, then turned to Abby’s father.

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“Who blesses this woman in marriage?”

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“Her mother, brother, sisters, and I do,” Phil answered.  He kissed Abby’s cheek, and reached for my hand.

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“Take care of her, son.”  After our handshake, he took Abby’s hand and placed it in mine.

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Abby

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Ben’s fingers closed around mine and the warmth of his skin actually sent tingles down my arm. “I love you,” he whispered as I stepped forward to face him.

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“I love you, too.”

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We stared into each other’s eyes while the minister continued, “Abigail, Ben, you are starting on a never-ending journey.  Your two paths are becoming one, and the road you travel will be filled with hope and love, but also tragedy and grief.  Let your love for each other guide you in both the good and the bad times.  Ben, do you take this woman to be your wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage?  Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

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“I do.”  He pressed his hands over mine.

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“And Abigail, do you take this man to be your wedded husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage?  Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

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“I do.”

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Ben

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The minister smiled as he again spoke to our friends and family.  “Ben and Abigail have chosen to recite personal vows that they have written themselves.  Ben, keep your eyes on Abigail and tell her how much she means to you.”  The crowd chuckled, they knew my eyes weren’t going anywhere.

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“Abby, I promise to love you with my whole heart forever.  I promise to stay by your side and hold your hand through all the ups and downs of life.  I promise to be your Mr. Darcy,” I paused as she laughed and took the opportunity to rest my palm against her cheek.

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“I promise to be your Mr. Darcy and to let you keep my pride in check.  I promise to continue showing you how amazing you are, and to never let you be afraid of trying anything new.  I promise to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”  I raised the hand I was still holding and kissed it.

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“Abigail, tell Ben how much he means to you.”

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She placed her hand over my heart and began, “Ben, I promise to never take this beautiful heart of yours for granted.  I promise I will support you and hold your hand every day for the rest of our lives.  I promise to learn from you and grow with you as life throws its lessons at us.  And I promise to cherish every moment I spend with you, to always remember that you love me, and to love you more with every passing day.”

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Abby

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I felt tears forming, but held them back as I vowed to spend my life with Ben.  His beautiful blue eyes shone down on me as we promised to love each other unconditionally.

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The minister turned to Matt, “May I have the rings please?”  Matt pulled my ring out of his pocket and placed it on the officiant’s Bible.  Then, Anna slipped Ben’s off her thumb and placed it beside mine on the open pages of the book.

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“Ben, place the ring on Abigail’s finger and repeat after me.”  Ben picked the ring up and slid it halfway down my fourth finger and mimicked the minister’s words.

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“In token and in pledge of our constant faith and abiding love, I give you this ring as a reminder of the love, happiness, and contentment you have brought to my life.  As this ring has no end, neither shall my love for you.”  He slid it the rest of the way and kissed my hand again.

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“Abigail, place the ring on Ben’s finger and repeat after me.”  My hands trembled as I grasped the ring between my index finger and thumb and placed it on his finger.

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“In token and in pledge of our constant faith and abiding love, I give you this ring as a reminder of the love, happiness, and contentment you have brought to my life.  As this ring has no end, neither shall my love for you.”  I slid it to the base of his finger, then laced my fingers through his, never taking my eyes off his face.

*

“Ladies and Gentleman, you are all witnesses today to the miracle of this couple’s love and I am proud to announce that by the exchange of vows and the exchange of rings they have pledged to live for and love each other throughout all the days of their lives.  I am happy to proclaim that they are husband and wife.  Ben, you may kiss your bride.”

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My insides grew warm as Ben wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me to meet him.  He lightly kissed my lips, letting his breath wash over me.  I wanted to make this moment last forever, so I refused to let him pull away.

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Ben

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Our lips touched for the first time as husband and wife and a spark ran through my body.  I didn’t want to go too deeply and embarrass her in front of our family, but luckily, she turned our soft kiss into a passionate one.  I heard the eruption of applause from our friends and family, but couldn’t tear myself away.

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Abby and Ben

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We pulled apart at the same moment and stared into each other’s eyes for just a split second before joining hands and walking back up the aisle, beaming at the friends and family who cheered for us.  Our love flowed in and around us, and we knew our adventures together were just beginning.

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The End

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I really hope you all enjoyed my story.  Please, please, please comment and let me know your thoughts!  I’ll get back to posting more blog-like posts starting tomorrow.

Chapter Forty-Two: Reconciliation

Ben

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My fingernails dug into the armrests as the pilot announced we were clear for takeoff.  Closing my eyes, I replayed the scene from Matt and Trish’s wedding.  What if I had just hugged her back?  Things would be so different.

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“Ben.” She stopped a few feet in front of me and looked straight into my eyes.

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“Abigail.” I stared back, not willing to show her my pain by avoiding her eyes, but her emerald gaze broke me.

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“It’s so good to see you!”  She rushed forward and threw her arms around my neck.  Grabbing her around the waist, I pulled her tight to me and squeezed, inhaling her vanilla scent.

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“Oh God, Abby, I’ve missed you so much.” I whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck with my mouth.  She buried her face in my chest and it was like we’d never been apart.

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“Ben, I’m sorry for everything.  Can we try again?”

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“Yes, absolutely.”  I lifted her chin with my index finger and covered her lips with my own.  We became one person for a few seconds and love spread through me, starting at my toes and working its way up through my legs and into my chest and arms and brain.

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“Abby, I love you more now than I ever thought possible.  I want us to be together forever.”

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Shaking my head, I turned and looked out the window.  I expected fear to overtake me, but instead of dread, calmness claimed my body as I peered through the dark clouds and let the night engulf me.

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There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Think about the thing in life that makes you happiest. Abby’s words from our trip to Florida played in my head.  I tried to take her advice again.  Closing my eyes, I thought about her face as she looked at me.  The love that always lived in her smile.

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My fingers relaxed their grip on the armrests and the tension drained out of my shoulders.  I was on my way to Abby.  She may turn me down, refuse to listen to my apologies, tell me I lost my chance, but I felt more alive just anticipating seeing her, than I felt in the last eight months.

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The woman seated next to me was writing in a spiral notebook and an idea came to me.  “Can I have a sheet of paper and borrow a pen?” I asked hopefully.

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“Um, sure.”  She ripped a sheet out and dug in her purse for a pen.  I thanked her, pulled down my tray table, and began to write.

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The plane touched down seven hours later and the pilot announced our arrival at Heathrow Airport.  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I could barely contain my desire to exit the plane, only for the first time in my life I didn’t want to get my feet on the ground because of fear.  I wanted to get to Abby as fast as humanly possible.

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It took over an hour for the plane to taxi to the terminal and allow passengers to exit.  I wanted to scream at the flight attendants, find out what caused such a long delay.  My fidgeting caused concerned stares from the other passengers, but I couldn’t restrain my nervous energy.  Getting off, I was thankful I hadn’t checked any luggage.  I couldn’t wait at baggage claim, customs was bad enough.

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A group of taxis was lined up outside and I tossed my bag in the backseat of the nearest one.  Snatching a scrap of paper out of my back pocket, I read off the address Anna gave me before I left the States.  We sped off.

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It took forty-five minutes in traffic to get to the street I wanted.  Along the way, the cabbie made small talk, pointing out different sites and instructing me to look out the window.  I only heard half of what he said; my mind was swimming with the events of the last year and a half.

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“Here you go.”  The cabbie stopped the car and I gave him his fare.  A flower shop faced me as I stepped out of the cab and I could imagine Abby going in once a week to buy fresh flowers for her apartment.

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Opening the door, floral scents overwhelmed my nostrils.  There were plants and flowers everywhere.  I brushed them out of my face as I walked to the counter.  I made my selection and left the store feeling hopeful.  Abby’s building was only a few steps away.

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My palms were sweating and the hairs on my arm stood up as I climbed the stairs to the landing.  A call box at the entrance listed the occupants and I scanned the names, searching for the one I’d know.  There she was.  Flat #52.  I touched my finger to the button and pushed.  And waited.  And pushed again.  No answer.  She wasn’t home.  Damn it.

*

I sat on the top step and put the flowers beside me on the landing.  It was the middle of the week, why had I thought she’d be home?  Oh well.   A couple more hours of waiting wouldn’t kill me.  I really didn’t have a choice.

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*  *  *  *

*

My watch wasn’t right.  I didn’t adjust the time when we landed, even though the pilot informed the passengers of the correct time.  Was it seven AM when we landed?  Or eight?  I couldn’t remember, but I kept checking my wrist every five minutes, knowing the time it stated meant nothing here in England.  At least I could count the hours as they passed.  Three, so far.

*

I rummaged around in my bag and pulled out the last copy of Intuition Trish gave me.  It was already opened to Abby’s article.  Reading the beautiful words again, I felt empowered to wait on the steps all night, all week.  However long it took for her to come home.

*

Two women walked past me on the steps.  Their confused expressions diffused into grins as they saw what I was reading.  Smiling sheepishly, I explained, “My girlfriend writes for this magazine.”

*

“Abigail?”  The taller girl asked, just a hint of an accent coming through.

*

“Yeah, do you know her?”

*

“She lives across the hall from me.  So, you must be the elusive E she’s always writing about.”

*

“Yep.”

*

“You look like your pictures, but different.”  She stared at me, studying me, her arms crossed over her chest.  “Oh, I’m Lottie.”

*

“Nice to meet you, Lottie.”  I stood up and extended my hand, but she didn’t take it.

*

“Did you come here to make her cry again?”

*

“What?  No.  Absolutely not.  I came to beg her forgiveness.”

*

“Oh, good.  What took you so long?”  She laughed as she put her key in the door and moved inside.  Watching her leave, I sat back down and shame overcame me.

*

What took me so long?  Anger, pride, pain.  Resentment, pride, grief.  Pride.  Pride.  Pride.  I was too proud to admit to her that I missed her, too proud to admit I loved her, too proud to admit she never wanted to hurt me.  Sitting there, damning my miserable pride, I prayed I wasn’t too late.

*

Two more hours passed.  I reread the articles so many times each line was memorized, torturing my subconscious with my pigheadedness.  I thought about going to find something to eat, it was well past lunchtime, but was too afraid to leave her steps.  What if she came home and I missed her?  I was contemplating this when a whisper broke the silence.

*

“Ben?”  Her voice reached my ears and a smile spread across my face.  I didn’t look up immediately, I needed to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.  Pinching my arm, I felt the sting of my fingers twisting my skin.  Definitely not dreaming.  I looked up.

*

She looked beautiful.  Her brown hair hung down her shoulders in loose waves, bangs swept off to the side.   Light blue shadow played up the aqua tones in her eyes and her cheeks were flushed the most gorgeous pink I’d ever seen.  I jumped from my seat and picked up the flowers.  Taking a step down, I held them out to her.  Wordlessly she took them and stared into the bouquet.

*

“Anemones,” I said.

*

“Yeah, I know.  Thank you.”

*

“You’re welcome.”  I couldn’t stop staring at her.  She wore a soft yellow sundress, spaghetti straps showing off her pale shoulders and neck.  A cream-colored cardigan was folded over her arm but she nearly dropped it when she reached for the flowers, revealing the tattoo on her wrist.

*

“Ben,” she breathed after a minute, “I can’t even tell you how happy I am to see you.  But I don’t understand.  Why are you here?”  Her eyes looked back and forth from me to the flowers, confusion spread across her face.

*

“Matt and Trish got me a plane ticket for my birthday.”

*

“But your birthday was months ago.”

*

“Yeah, I know, I couldn’t bring myself to get on the plane.”

*

“But, you said you were done.  You said you never wanted to see me again, I thought I’d never see you again.”  She turned her eyes to the ground and guilt rushed through me.  I hated myself for yelling at her, for doubting her all these months.  I’d deserve it if she turned and walked away and never looked back.

*

“I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for how I acted at the wedding.”  I took a step closer to her.  “I didn’t know about these.”  I held up the magazine.

*

“But you said you read my articles.”

*

“I lied.  I was so hurt, and I didn’t want to admit it to you.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I had no idea what you were writing.  I should never have yelled at you like that, you didn’t deserve it, even without these, no one deserves that.” Another step forward.

*

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.  I never wanted to hurt you.  I’m sorry, Ben.” She still refused to look up.

*

“Abby,” I cooed her name, the name only I was allowed to call her, “Abby, please look at me.” One more step and she was only a foot away.  Her eyes remained fixed on the ground.

*

“I know you didn’t want to hurt me.  Deep down I always knew that.  But I was hurt.  And I couldn’t deal with all of the reminders of you in my life.  I couldn’t bring myself to read the articles because they were just another reminder that you chose your job over me.”

*

This caused her eyes to meet mine.  Her mouth pulled into a frown and her bottom lip trembled.

*

“Ben, please,” her eyes pleaded with mine, “I hate myself for leaving.  There’s nothing in this world more important to me than you.  But how could I give this up?   I just couldn’t.  I thought if I left, you’d find someone new.  Someone who could make you happy, make you realize that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

*

I tried to interrupt, but she held up her hand, “Don’t.  I know I should’ve known better.  And when Trish told me how miserable you were, it broke my heart.  I was so angry with myself.  And then I was even angrier with myself because I started to feel hopeful.  Hopeful I hadn’t lost you for good.  That’s when I decided to write to you in the articles.  I thought if you still loved me, maybe you’d be reading.  I didn’t want to force myself on you.  And when we talked, on your birthday, I thought maybe you’d forgiven me, but I wasn’t sure, you didn’t sound like yourself, so I didn’t push you then, either.  Maybe I should have.”

*

“No, you were right.  It just would’ve made me resent you more.”

*

“Ben, will you ever forgive me?”  A single tear slid down her cheek and I lifted my free hand to wipe it away, letting my fingers linger.  The tears swimming in her eyes melted away as her skin absorbed my touch.

*

“I already have.  Will you ever forgive me?”

*

“For what?  You haven’t done anything to need forgiveness for.”

*

“Yes, I have.  And not just at the wedding.  I should’ve supported you.  I shouldn’t have let you end us.  We could’ve done the long distance and neither one of us would‘ve had to endure the last eight months of torture.”

*

“Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry.”  She brought her hand to where mine rested on her cheek and covered my wrist, her eyes now burrowing into mine.

*

“Abby, I came here because I want us to move forward, together.  You told me in March to move on with my life and I tried to without you, but Abigail, my life isn’t worth living if I can’t talk to you.  If I can’t know what’s going on in your life.  When you left, you said you needed me.  Well, I wanted you then.  Now, I’m letting you know I need you, too.  Do you want me?”

*

“More than anything.”

*

My heart soared and lungs constricted, I took a few shallow breaths and let my mouth stretch into a broad smile.  Throwing the magazine down, I pulled the paper I wrote on the plane out of my pocket.

*

“I made you a list.”  She took it from me from and turned her eyes from mine.  A toothy grin broke out across her face as she read the items.

*

What I Want to Accomplish Before I Die, by Benjamin Harris

1.) Go to London

2.) Find Abby

3.) Beg her forgiveness

4.) Tell her I love her

5.) Kiss her again

6.) Hug her again

7.) Make love to her again

8.) Marry her

9.) Have beautiful children with her

10.) Show her every day how much I love her

*

As she finished reading the list, her green eyes made their way back to mine and I knelt before her, pulling the velvet box out of my pocket.  Her eyes shone as she watched me, but they never left my face to look at the box.

*

I took her hand, “I know it will be tough at first and I don’t want you to leave your job here, but I need to know you’ll be mine for the rest of our lives.  If that means we do long distance for a little while, or if that means I move here to London, I’m willing to do whatever it takes.  I can’t lose you again.  Abby, I love you.  I think I’ve loved you from the first second I laid eyes on you.  I don’t ever want to go another day without hearing your voice.”

*

Tears fell from her eyes, but she stayed connected to me.

*

“Abigail Bronsen,” I lifted the lid on the box, “will you marry me?”

*

I realized as the diamond and sapphires sparkled that a crowd had gathered around us, watching, waiting for her answer, but I didn’t break my focus on her beautiful eyes.  I took the ring out of the box and slid it on her perfect finger.

*

Before I knew it, the flowers and list were on the ground, her fingers closed around the collar of my shirt, and she pulled me onto my feet.  Our lips met and eight months of dormant passion awakened and surged between us.  Her soul bonded to mine, our bodies dissolved into one another, and her hands slid around my neck, pulling my face even closer to hers.  I latched my hands around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

*

Clapping and cheers from the people surrounding us faded into the distance at first, but now erupted into a deafening roar, and Abby pulled away, laughing as she heard the shouts around us.

*

“I’m sorry,” she started.  “The normal response is yes, absolutely I’ll marry you.”

*

“I liked your response better.”  I pulled her back to my mouth and stroked her hair, intoxicated by its silky softness against my fingers.  I was never going to let her go again.

*

*

<– Chapter Forty-One: Realization ********************* Chapter Forty-Three: The Wedding –>

Chapter Forty-One: Realization

Ben

*

”Ben, we need to talk,” Trish said as soon as I answered the phone.

*

“Sure thing Trish, what’s up?”

*

“In person.  Can you meet me across the street at Starbucks in like twenty minutes?”

*

“I can meet you, but not there, anywhere else is fine.”

*

“No, Ben.  Starbucks, twenty minutes.  I’ll see you then.”  She hung up without waiting for my protest.  Shit.  That was the last place in the world I wanted to go.

*

My outburst at the wedding had the exact opposite effect than I intended.  Instead of feeling better and being ready to move on, I felt so much worse.  The constant stinging in my chest told me I was still in love with Abby, I still wanted her more than anything in the world and I ruined any chance at reconciliation that may have existed.  My anger may have been righteous, but it wasn’t right.

*

Matt was right.  Forgiveness was the only option.  But I don’t think there’s any way she can forgive me now.

*

Approaching the building, my heart leapt into my throat.  It was just wrong.  I shouldn’t be here. It was her safe haven, where she went to relax, read, and feed her coffee addiction.  I was violating her memory by being there after the way I’d treated her.  Putting my hand on the door handle, I paused and took a deep breath.  I really had no choice but to go in.

*

Trish was already there.  She was sitting in Abby’s favorite armchair by the fireplace, flipping through a magazine.  I couldn’t see the cover, but had a sneaking suspicion it would be Intuition.  A cup of coffee sat in front of her on a table and she bent down to pick it up as I flopped into the chair beside her.

*

“How was the honeymoon?”  It felt weird that I hadn’t seen her yet; they’d been back for a week.

*

“It was great.  Rome is absolutely breathtaking.  Have you ever been?”

*

“Nope.”

*

“You should go someday.”

*

“Yeah, sure.”  Running my fingers through my hair, I turned and faced the fire.  It wasn’t really cold out yet, but the flames still comforted me.

*

“Ben, what happened at the wedding?”

*

“What do you mean?”  I didn’t want to discuss this with her.  It was none of her business.  Maybe if she and Matt had stayed out of it in the first place, it never would have happened.

*

“I mean, I got an email from Abigail when I got home from Rome saying she couldn’t be friends with me anymore.  That she was done torturing you by being so present in your friends’ lives.  And she left the wedding crying, she came up and hugged me, tears streaming down her face.  What the hell happened between the two of you?”

*

“I asked her why she came and yelled at her for putting me through hell.”

*

“Ben…”

*

“I was a jackass.  I know I was.  I feel completely horrible about it, but it’s too late now.  I can’t take it back.”

*

“Why not?  Ben, it’s not too late for you guys.”

*

“Why do you even care?  It’s none of your business.”

*

“You’re like a brother to me and Matt.  We love you and want you to be happy.  And she makes you happy when you aren’t too busy being a proud asshole.”

*

“She made me happy, then she broke me.  Then I broke her.  Doesn’t exactly sound like a great foundation for a relationship.  Besides, it’s too late.  I told her I never want to see her again.”

*

“You act like the first person in the world with a broken heart.  It happens to everyone.  You guys had what, like a year without a single fight, and you’re going to give up because you’ve had a rough couple of months?  Get over yourself Ben.  Matt and I are sick of you acting like a wounded puppy all the time.”  She was fuming now, chastising me like my mother.  Folding my arms across my chest, I continued staring into the flames.

*

“Have you even read her articles?”

*

“What is it with the damn articles?  No, I haven’t read them.  Why the hell would I want to read about what a fabulous time she’s having thousands of miles away from me?”

*

“Oh Ben.  If I had known you were thinking that,” she stopped short and shook her head.  Reaching down beside her, she lifted a stack of magazines and placed them in my lap.  “If I had known you weren’t reading them, well, I would have done things differently.”

*

Staring at the stack before me, I grimaced.  I couldn’t read them.  My heart was already torn in pieces.  I tried to lift them and hand them back to her, but she pushed my hands away.

*

“No, Ben.  You need to read them.  I marked the pages after I heard from Abigail.”  She stood and wrapped her arms around my neck, cradling my head, “Call us when you get to London.” Releasing me, she walked out the door and I was left alone with nothing but my curiosity to keep me company.  What could the articles possibly say that would change things?

*

I looked around the shop at the other customers.  A couple of teenagers sat in one corner, holding hands and kissing.  The sight tugged at my heart.  I wanted that again.  I wanted Abby’s hand in mine, her lips on mine.  I glanced down at the stack of magazines in my lap and remembered the first article she ever had published.  She quoted me as an inspiration, called me a friend.  Now what am I?  Nothing.

*

And that’s when it dawned on me.  How could I be so stupid?  Why hadn’t I realized it before?  Of course if she wanted to communicate with me she would use the magazine.  Knowing her, she was afraid email or a phone call would force me to respond even if I didn’t want to.  And she didn’t want to force me to talk to her if I didn’t want to.  Of course she’d use the magazine.

*

“I’m such an idiot!” I said aloud.  Several customers looked over at me from their place in line, but I didn’t acknowledge their stares.  Instead, I grabbed the top issue, checking the cover for the date: May 2010.  It would have gone on newsstands in April, not long after she left.  Flipping through the pages, I searched for the place Trish marked.  There it was.

*

Facing Your Fears, by Abigail Bronsen

*

This month’s column was supposed to be about Ophidiophobia, or the fear of snakes.  Since this column first began, hundreds of letters have poured in from readers who want me to tackle this phobia with them.  A couple of readers, anxious to conquer it, went with me to see a zoologist to learn how to handle a python, but I’ve decided to save that account for next month.  Instead, I have a much more personal story to share with you.

*

A little over a year ago I met the man I’ve referred to in previous columns as my friend, E.  Most of my avid readers have probably realized E is more than just a friend.  He’s so much more.  He’s the man of my dreams, as cliché as that is, it’s true.  I am deeply in love with him.

*

So why am I telling you this?  What does E have to do with this article of facing my fears?  Well, for one thing, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be telling you anything at all.  It’s because of his support and encouragement and adventurous nature that I was given the opportunity to write this column.

*

It’s because of his love and faith in me that I was given another opportunity as well.  Last month, I was offered a second column that will be debuting in the June issue of this magazine.  For the next two years I’ll be traveling and documenting my adventures as “An American in Europe.”

*

What does this new column have to do with E?  What does it have to do with “Facing Your Fears?”  Well, for me, accepting this column is my way of facing my fear of the unknown.

*

Writing this column means moving to London and spending the next two years in Europe.  It means turning my world upside down and staring ahead into the black abyss of the foreign and unfamiliar.  What scares me most is being away from E.  I’m scared leaving him now means losing him forever.  I seriously considered turning the job down, staying in America to get married and have a family with him.  Even now, I wish I’d made that decision, but if I had, I would have been giving into my fear.

*

The thought of him at home, in pain because I’m gone, tears my heart into pieces.  But then, other thoughts creep into my brain.  I think maybe he’s okay, moving on to someone new, and I’m torn between happiness for him, anger against myself, and pain that he isn’t missing me.  I know how selfish the last feeling is, and yet, it’s still there.

*

Ever since I met him, my biggest fear has been losing him.  I was so afraid that taking this column would mean he’d break up with me that I broke up with him first.  I fled. I should have known better.  It was the wrong way to deal with my fear. Learn from my mistakes.  Cut and run is not the way to deal with tough choices in life.  If I included him in my decision, we would have worked something out, together.  I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself for ending things the way I did and I hope with all my heart he will forgive me someday.

*

This leads me back to facing my fear of the unknown.  I have no idea what’s going to happen this year.  I could fail horribly with the new column.  I could lose the love of my life, forever.  I could have amazing and life-altering experiences visiting countries and cities I’ve always dreamed of seeing.  I have no idea what’s coming, but I’m trying my best to face it head on.

*

I stared at the last paragraph for ten minutes, trying to comprehend what I’d read.  When she left, my heart knew she didn’t want to leave me, but I didn’t care about her pain.  I only thought of my own.  I should have forced her to talk to me, to make long distance work.  Both of us only considered two options: either she stayed with me or she left me.  But there was a third option and I felt like an ass for not even trying to make her consider it.

*

Yes, she made the choice to leave me, but would she have been capable of making that choice if I hadn’t encouraged her to spread her wings?  Suddenly, all of my anger melted away and a surge of pride rushed through me.  I was proud of her, for once in her life, she hadn’t taken the easy way out.  If I hadn’t been wrapped up in my own desires, I would have persuaded her to take it, to not be afraid of how it would change her life, to be excited about the chance for a fresh start in a new place.  That’s who I’d always been for her.  I couldn’t believe I was so mad with her for being the person I’d always encouraged her to be.

*

I put May aside and picked up June’s issue.  The first earmarked page was the “Letters to the Editor” section.  Two responses to Abby’s column were printed.

*

Abigail, don’t worry girl.  If he loves you, he’ll support your decision and wait for you.  Good luck in Europe, I’m rooting for you!

*

I can’t believe you have the nerve to complain about breaking up with your boyfriend in your column.  You chose your job over him, you shouldn’t expect him to be okay with that.  Would he have done the same thing if the roles were reversed?

*

The first response stung.  She, whoever she was, was right.  I should have been supportive.  The second response stung even more, because it’s exactly the attitude I took when she left.  I flipped quickly through the magazine and found her “Fears” column.  It was about snakes, just as she promised.  I laughed reading her description of draping a python over her shoulders and feeling it slither in her hands.  The picture it created in my head was priceless: Abby, holding a snake, stiff as a board and trying not to scream.  At the bottom of the page, a single sentence was placed on its own:

*

E- I miss you.

*

I continued flipping through the pages until I found the new column.  The heading took up half a page and was imposed over a picture of Abby at Buckingham Palace, arms crossed over her chest, staring down one of the infamous guards.  The article described her visits to several of London’s famous tourists sites, Parliament, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey, and the culture shock of meeting Londoners and getting to know the city.  Her excitement popped off the page, but the tone of the article became bittersweet at the last line.

*

My whole life I’ve dreamed of visiting London and I can’t believe I actually live here now.  It’s surreal.  It’s nothing like I imagined it would be; but it’s great.  There’s only one thing I would change.  E- I wish you were here with me.

*

I didn’t stop to think, I picked up the next magazine.  More letters to the editor asked Abby what the status of her relationship with “E” was.  I flipped to “Fears” to find out, but there was no mention of me this time.  I frantically turned to “Europe.”  The left-hand page was a picture of Abby in front of the Eiffel Tower, holding up a sign that read “Happy Birthday, E!”  Turning to the cover, I realized I held the July issue.  The article detailed her first visit to Paris and her happiness was contagious.  I found myself wanting to be in Paris, wanting to see the Mona Lisa at the Louvre and look up at the gargoyles of Notre Dam.  She talked about wistfully window-shopping the world’s most fashionable stores, only to be heart-broken when she finally went in one and looked at a price tag.

*

The magazine certainly picked the right girl for the job.

*

In August’s “Fears” column, Abby helped two readers tackle their fear of heights by taking them skydiving.  Abby, skydiving.  It was unbelievable.  Again, there was a message for me at the end:

*

E- Skydiving! Can you imagine?  It wasn’t even on my list.  I want to go again with you.  You would absolutely love it.

*

The “Europe” column was about Italy: Venice, Rome, Milan, and Florence.  She rode in gondolas, stared up at the Sistine Chapel, listened to opera, went to fashion shows, and threw a few coins into Trevi Fountain.

*

E- I don’t want to jinx it, but I wished for a second chance with you.  Am I crazy to hope?  I feel like there’s more to our story.

*

September was the last issue Trish gave me.  This would be the issue that Ashley mentioned when I ran into her, Anna, and Derek in August.  The “Europe” column was first this month and Abby described her journeys through Spain.  There was no mention of me, but the article was so beautifully written, I read it twice before turning to find the “Fears” column.  The bulk of the column was about the fear of public speaking, but the last couple of paragraphs were dedicated to me.

*

E- M & T’s wedding is next month and I want to come.  I want to see you.  I miss you so badly it feels like my heart has been put through a paper shredder.  I told you I needed to try and live on my own two feet and that’s what I’ve been doing since I’ve been here.  I’ve been crossing things off my list.  I visited Jane Austen’s home.  I got a tattoo.  I’ve been learning French.  There’s only a few things left.  Things I want to do with you.  And I’ve added two things.

*

#26 Have children with you.  #27 Grow old with you.

*

I said before that staying in America and starting a family with you would be giving in to my fears and at the time I left that was true.  But it’s not true anymore.  I faced that fear.  I told you I needed to see if I could face my fears on my own and I did.  Now I’m ready to face the world with you.  Please can you forgive me?  I love you.

*

I’ll be waiting for your answer at the wedding.  If you don’t love me anymore, I’ll never bother you again, I promise.  More than I want you back, I want you to be happy.  If you are happiest without me, then I’ll fade out of your life forever.

*

That was it.  She put her heart out there and I stomped all over it.  She wouldn’t try again, there’d be no more messages for me in the magazine.  She was staying true to her word: fading out of my life.  My stomach rolled and my arms began to shake.  I couldn’t lose her.  I spent seven and a half months trying to get her out of my head, out of my life, but she wanted me back.  I’d never stopped loving her.  There was no other woman in the world who could make me happy.  The depth of my misery while she was gone had been nothing compared to the depths of my joy when we were together.  What the hell was I waiting for?

*

Gathering the magazines in my arms, I sprinted out the door and headed for my house instead of the complex.  Three hours later, I was on a plane.

*

*

<– Chapter Forty: Broken ******************* Chapter Forty-Two: Reconciliation –>

Chapter Forty: Broken

Abby

*

I went straight to the airport.  My flight didn’t leave for another twenty hours, but I couldn’t stay at the wedding.  Ben was there, hating me.  I couldn’t be in the same building with his hate, I couldn’t be in the same country as that hate.

*

“Please, are there any flights that leave sooner?” I begged the attendant at the ticket counter.  He furiously typed into his computer, trying to help, but we both knew there was nothing he could do.

*

“I’m sorry Ms. Bronsen.  All the flights to London are booked this evening.  If anything opens I’ll be sure to let you know.  Where are you staying?”

*

“It doesn’t have to be a flight to London.  Any flight towards the European continent will do.  Please, I have to leave the country tonight.”

*

“Well, there is one flight leaving in an hour and a half to Lisbon and there are a few seats left.”

*

“Great, can I exchange my ticket?  I’ll figure out how to get to London once I get there.”

*

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll take care of it.”  He printed out and handed me a new ticket and I headed to the terminal.  The plane wouldn’t be boarding for another forty-five minutes, so I called Lottie, hoping she could make arrangements for me to get home.

*

“What the hell are you calling me so late for?” she asked.

*

“What, what time is it there?”

*

“3:00 in the morning!”

*

“Oh, Lottie, I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking.  It’s ten here, I forgot about the time difference.”

*

“Ten?  Why aren’t you dancing the night away with your hunky man?”

*

Waterfalls flooded from my eyes and down my cheeks and Lottie’s tone changed from annoyed to concerned.

*

“Ab, what happened?  What’s wrong?”

*

“He hates me.  He never wants to see me again.  I’m coming back tonight.  Well, I’m trying to.  I can’t get a flight to London, so I’m flying to Lisbon.  Can you help me get home?”  I couldn’t speak anymore, I bawled into the phone while Lottie tried to calm me down.

*

“It’s okay, Abigail, it’s fine. If he can’t get over himself then he doesn’t deserve you.”  Her comforting words didn’t help, but I gulped in several large breaths in an attempt to gain control of my emotions.

*

When I could finally speak again, I said, “Listen, can you get online and find me a flight from Lisbon to London?  I’ll email you my flight information when we hang up.”

*

“Yeah, I can do that.  Call me as soon as you land in Lisbon.”

*

“Okay, thanks.”  We hung up and I let myself weep into my hands until the flight started boarding.  Why?  Why am I back here, crying at an airport after leaving Ben alone in Boston? That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.  I was supposed to run into his arms, feel his warmth and love.  He was supposed to kiss me and tell me all was forgiven.

*

The plane ride was torture.  I couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened between us.  It didn’t make sense.

*

My eyes followed as Ben hugged Matt and Trish then made his way to his table.  He lingered for just a moment but didn’t sit.  Instead, he turned abruptly and headed for the ballroom doors.  Jumping up, my water glass tipped over, splashing liquid all over the table.  I dabbed at the tablecloth hastily with my napkin before traipsing after him, knowing it was now or never.

*

Only a few steps ahead of me, he threw open the doors and walked outside into the cool autumn air.  God, he looked good in that tux.  His pictures didn’t do him justice.  I’d been staring at photographs of us together for months, but damn he looked good in person.

*

He kept his face away for only a few seconds, then turned on his heel and focused his eyes on me.  I noticed that he glanced up and down, taking in my entire body, and a fever rose into my cheeks.

*

“Ben.”

*

“Abigail,” he responded.

*

Abigail.  Not Abby.  Not a good sign, but wait… He met my eye and I got lost in those deep blue pools of his.

*

“It’s so good to see you!”  I couldn’t stop my feet from rushing forward, or my arms from finding that familiar position around his neck.  His eyes said it all, he still loved me. But for the first time since I’d known him, his body didn’t respond to my touch.  Well, it did, but not the way I wanted it to.  He usually melted into me, our bodies molded together like clay.  But now, his arms stiffened and the muscles in his neck tightened.  He didn’t put his hands around my waist.

*

Releasing my hold and taking a step back, I tried again, “It’s really, really good to see you.”

*

“I wish I could say the same.”  His voice was cold, distant, unfamiliar.  Where was my Ben?

*

I took another step back, unsure what to say.  I didn’t want to cry, but felt the beginning of tears behind my eyes.  Goosebumps erupted over my arms and instinctually I wrapped them around my chest and rubbed my hands up and down, trying to hold in the pain in my heart and warm my body at the same time.

*

“Look, Abigail, I’m sorry, that came out a lot harsher than I meant it to.”  He handed me his tuxedo jacket.  The simple act reminded me of the Ben I knew, but also made me feel guilty, I don’t know why.  And still, he didn’t call me Abby.

*

“I understand.  I’m not really happy to see me most days.”

*

“Don’t start with that.  I don’t need to play your self-esteem couch tonight.”  The coldness returned and his words hit me like a bullet to my heart.  The assault continued, “Why are you here?”

*

What did he mean?  Didn’t he know why I was here?  “Matt and Trish invited me.”

*

“Yeah, I know that.  But why did you come?”

*

“Isn’t that obvious?  I wanted to see you.”

*

“Why?” he screamed.  “Can’t you just stay away from me?”  His voice got louder and louder as each word hit me like a punch in my stomach.  “Every time I turn around, there you are.  Your name, your family, your baseball hat.  I can’t take it anymore.  How am I supposed to forget you if I can’t get you out of my life?”

*

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.  They poured down my cheeks in currents and I sucked in huge breaths to try and control my voice, “You want to forget me?”

*

“Yes, you didn’t seem to have any problems forgetting me. You left me and you haven’t even glanced back, except for one phone call on my birthday.  What’s that about?  Were you trying to ruin my day?”

*

Ruin his day?  Did he really think I wanted that? “No, Ben, I didn’t think, I…”

*

“Yeah, you didn’t think.  You’ve only thought about yourself.  Did you even consider I wouldn’t want to see you here?”

*

“Yes, I did, but I hoped you would.  I thought, well, have you been reading my articles?”

*

“Yeah, sure.  A poor substitute for you being here.”

*

He’s read them and he’s still angry?  What have I done?  Have I really lost him for good?  “Ben, I had no idea you were so upset, please, let me explain.”

*

“Explain what?  That I wasn’t enough to keep you here?  That your job means more to you than I ever did?  How can you explain that? You can’t explain it and I don’t want to hear it.  I’m done.  I needed closure and this feels pretty final to me.  Don’t call me again.  I don’t ever want to see you again.  I’m done.”  He swept past me without a second glance, cheeks red with anger, mouth drawn into a tight, thin line.

*

Rivers of tears streamed down my face and I clutched his jacket, wrapping it tightly around me.  It smelled like him, like his delicious grassy, minty scent.  The scent was too much to take.  I stripped it off and folded it in half as I walked back inside, dropping it on a bench outside the doors.  He was upset, but I knew him.  He’d feel bad for blowing up and come looking for me to apologize.  I didn’t want to hear it.  He was right.  I deserved every word he screamed at me.  An apology from him wouldn’t change anything.  He’d still hate me, I’d still hate me.

*

We were over.

*

I cried myself to sleep an hour into the flight, but my dreams were just as cruel asleep as my thoughts were awake.  Ben yelled at me over and over, always with pain in his eyes.  I couldn’t figure out what had gone so wrong, why he wasn’t expecting me, or why he hadn’t told me not to come.

*

The plane touched down with a jolt and woke me from my nightmares.  I turned my phone on as soon as the “Turn Electronics Off” sign went dark.  Lottie had emailed me my new flight information; my connection would be leaving in two hours.

*

The intervening time between those flights was a blur.  I can’t remember exactly what I did or said or thought about.  I called Lottie, but I don’t know what our conversation consisted of.  I pulled my notebook out on the second plane ride and started writing everything I could remember about the beginning of our relationship.  I don’t know why.  I guess I thought I could purge it from my memory.  Maybe the memories would heal a little of the broken heart barely beating in my chest.  But like everything else, it made the pain worse.

*

Lottie met me at Heathrow, she folded me into her arms and let me cry.

*

“It’s going to be okay, Ab, it’s going to be okay.”  She patted and rubbed my back for a good fifteen minutes before putting me in a cab and taking me home.  She helped me out of my dress, the dress I wore to the wedding, the dress I wore on both plane rides.  Then she tucked me into my bed and I cried myself to sleep again with Ben’s words ringing in my ears.

*

I don’t ever want to see you again.  I’m done.

*

*

<– Chapter Thirty-Nine: Another Wedding ******************** Chapter Forty-One: Realization–>

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Another Wedding

Ben

*

“How the hell did you get these seats, Ben?” Matt asked, sipping his second beer and looking around our private box in amazement.

*

“It’s the article, man.  The owner read it and offered me use of the seats anytime I wanted for the rest of the season.  I brought a group of kids last week.”

*

“If I’d known I’d get to watch the Sox from box seats, I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time about the bachelor party.”

*

“You’ll know better next time,” I joked, punching him in the shoulder.

*

“Nah, this is it for me.  I’ve found the woman I’m going to grow old with.”

*

“Going to grow old with?  You’re already there, man!”  Everyone laughed, myself, his coworkers, and the guys from our softball team.

*

Matt and Trish were the epitome of the old married couple, desperately in love, and prone to bickering when they thought no one was watching.  Trish had been an extension of Matt for so long, it was hard to remember what my friend acted like before she came into his life.  Oh right, a smart-ass.  I guess he must not have changed too much.

*

As the guys turned their laughing into mocking of Matt and the state of marriage, he turned to me, and said quietly, “You remember when Trish and I broke up, after I graduated from law school?”  His eyes were serious and his jaw pulled tight; probably what he looked like in a courtroom.

*

“What?  You and Trish never broke up.”

*

“Yeah, we did, for a couple of months.  We were so young, like twenty-four or so, I think it was around the time you started building the complex.”

*

“Oh.  Yeah, I do remember now.  I guess, I mean, you guys seem like the perfect couple, I just forgot.”

*

“Yeah, I try to, too.  I was working constantly, trying to prove myself at the firm, and I neglected her.  I canceled plans all the time; I never told her how much she meant to me.  I forgot about her, about us.”  He stroked the stubble on his chin, lost deep in thought.

*

“Why are you telling me this?”

*

“Because she forgave me.  She gave me a second chance.  And it’s time for you to do the same.”

*

“Come on, this is a bachelor party.  We’re supposed to be getting drunk and having fun, not talking about such deep stuff.”  My face grew red.  His situation and mine were completely different.

*

“I’ve known you all my life, I’m telling you this because I care.  You need to man up.  Forgive her.  That doesn’t mean you have to get back together with her, maybe you don’t want to give her a second chance, but you’re never going to be able to move on, with her or without her, if you can’t forgive her.”

*

My heart was full as I listened to him.  Forgiveness wasn’t that easy.  It should be, but it wasn’t.  My love hadn’t been enough, how do you forgive someone for that?

*

Instead of responding, I left my seat and grabbed two beers from the cooler in the back of our box.  As I sat back down, I handed the extra one to him, but kept my eyes focused on the game.  My silence said, Thanks for the advice.  I’ll think about it, and he understood.

*

Popping the top of his can he said simply, “You’re welcome.”

*

We didn’t speak throughout the rest of the game, but Matt cheered or yelled along with the rest of our party whenever the Sox made a great or lousy play.

*

After the game, Hunter, Matt’s friend from work, took over the reigns and forced us to barhop all over the city.  I dropped him off with Trish around two in the morning. He was completely trashed as I helped him through the door.

*

“Thanks for bringing him back in one piece,” she snapped.

*

“Hey, I just planned the baseball game, blame Hunter for the inebriation.”

*

“Yeah, I’m sure he didn’t do any drinking at the game.”  Her tone tried to convey anger, but a smile threatened to expose her true amusement at the situation.  “Will you just try and keep him sober next week?  I can’t have a sick groom on my wedding day.”

*

“Don’t worry, we’re all bachelor-ed out.”

*

“All right.  Well, I guess I’ll see you at the rehearsal.  Be there at five.”

*

“Yes, ma’am.  Night, Trish.”

*

“Goodnight, Ben.  And hey, thanks for planning this for him.  I’m sure he had fun.”

*

I waved at her as I walked backwards to my car.  She smiled at me from the porch, then made her way inside to her drunken fiancé.  In a week, he would be her husband.

*

*  *  *  *

*

On the morning of the wedding, I got up and went to the complex to exercise.  My muscles ached sorely for weeks and nothing loosened the kinks like a strenuous work out.  Stretching my arms high above my head, I thought about what Matt said about forgiveness being the key to moving on.  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that he was only partially right.  I needed closure to move on, not forgiveness.  Closure might take the form of forgiveness sometimes, but not always, and in this case, what I really needed was to tell Abby to leave me alone for good.  I needed to get her out of my head.

*

The ceremony started and I followed Matt down the aisle, involuntarily scanning the crowd for Abby.  Part of me hoped she was there and part of me prayed she wasn’t.  I didn’t see her.  My heart calmed its beating and I focused on waiting for the bridesmaids to file down the aisle.  The audience rose and I craned my neck, searching for a glimpse of Trish, but couldn’t see over the heads of the guests, so instead, I looked at Matt.  His eyes brimmed with tears and he had the biggest, dorkiest grin plastered across his face.  When Trish came into view, he sucked in a breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out and forming the grin again.  I’d never seen him so happy.

*

She glided down the aisle, looking so serene and beautiful I felt wrong being in her presence.  Her father kissed her cheek then shook Matt’s hand before sitting down in the front row.

*

“I love you,” Matt whispered as he took her hand and they turned to face the minister.

*

“I love you,” she whispered back.

*

“Family and friends,” the minister began, “we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of this man, Matthew Jacob Poole, to this woman, Patricia Brooke Martin…”

*

He gave a short message on the importance of marriage, then instructed Matt and Trish to face each other and hold hands.  I couldn’t see Matt’s face anymore, but Trish was just beaming as she repeated after the minister,

*

“I, Trish, take you, Matt…”

*

“I, Matt, take you, Trish…”

*

“With this ring, I thee wed…”

*

“With this ring, I thee wed…”

*

“Ladies and Gentleman, it is my privilege to announce that Matt and Trish are now husband and wife.  Matt, you may kiss your bride!”  With the minister’s permission, Matt took Trish’s face in both hands and planted the steamiest wedding day kiss on her I’ve ever witnessed.  I put two fingers in my mouth and let out a loud whistle; the rest of the crowd followed suit.  Applause broke out and continued to grow as Matt and Trish’s unfettered kiss went on.

*

When they finally released Matt yelled out, “Hell yes!” and grabbed Trish, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.  I laughed so hard, tears came to my eyes, and the rest of the crowd hooted and hollered until the newlyweds finally decided to walk back up the aisle.

*

The group of people clamoring around the couple, trying to express their good wishes was so dense, I couldn’t even make out Matt’s big head.  Sighing, I planted myself in a corner and waited until the last of the non-family, non-bridal party guests were ushered to the cocktail hour.  Finally, a clear path was open to the bride and groom, and I hugged Trish as tightly as I could manage.

*

“Ben, I can’t breathe!” she choked out, pushing her hands against my chest.

*

“I’m sorry,” laughing, I released her, “I’m just so happy for you guys!”  I repeated my bear hug with Matt, who crushed me back.

*

A half-hour of pictures later and I finally made my way to the bar to grab a drink.  I scanned the crowd again.  A tingling in my arms told me she was there, but I couldn’t find her.

*

The DJ announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, I am happy to present, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Matt and Trish Poole.”  They burst through the doors to the ballroom and charged through the crowd of people clapping for them, then waltzed onto the dance floor effortlessly.  As their first dance played, I tried to relax.  The tingling in my arms faded; maybe she’s not here after all.

*

As soon as the bride and groom took their seats, dinner service began, and I turned all of my attention to the prime rib in front of me.  I knew after dinner, I’d have to give my toast, so I pulled out the index cards I’d prepared over the last week and silently reviewed them as the plates were cleared around me.

*

“Ladies and gentleman, the father of the bride would like to toast the happy couple and then we’ll be hearing from the Maid of Honor and the Best Man.”

*

My hands shook as I waited for my turn.  Public speaking was not my favorite thing.  Finally, the DJ announced my name and I took the microphone from him.

*

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been friends with the groom here for as long as I can remember,” grinning at Matt briefly, I then turned to face the tables full of guests.

*

“You see, Matt and I played little league baseball together and the very first thing he said to me was ‘You better not suck, because my team always wins.’  I think if I had sucked he would have hated me for the rest of my life.”  A few chuckles broke out and one in particular struck me; I turned towards it, but couldn’t see in the dim light.

*

“As we grew up, and I got better at the game, and Matt got worse,” another laugh, but I still couldn’t see the source, “we began sharing more than baseball.  He’s been my best friend through everything: high school, college, grad school for me and law school for him, the opening of my business, good times and bad.  I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”  I nodded in his direction, he nodded back.

*

“Somewhere along the way, he met Trish.  I say somewhere, because to me it feels like they’ve always been together.  They have a love that is truly constant.  When I think of that cliché, ‘soul mates,’ they come to my mind.  Matt’s whole face just lights up when Trish enters a room, he’d lay down his life for her, and I know he’s going to spend the rest of it doing everything in his power to make her happy.  And I, as his best friend, will do everything I can to ridicule and humiliate him as he becomes more and more whipped over the years.”

*

A clear, sparkling laugh broke out over the subdued chuckles sounding throughout the room, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.  Abby was there.

*

“So, here’s to Matt and Trish, the world’s most sickeningly happy couple.  I love you guys!”  I raised my champagne, heard the clinking of glass spread throughout the room, took a gulp, and headed to their table.  They both stood to hug me and thank me for the toast, Trish kissed my cheek.

*

“What’s wrong?” she whispered before pulling away.  “You’re as pale as a ghost.”

*

“It’s nothing, just don’t like public speaking.”

*

“Oh, well, you did great!  You didn’t seem nervous at all.”

*

“Thanks.  And really, congratulations.  I love both of you, very much.”

*

“We love you, too.”  She squeezed my hand before sitting back down and I made my way to my table.  A slice of cake was waiting at my seat, but instead of sitting, I headed for the exit.  I needed fresh air.

*

I was only a few feet outside when I heard the clack of heels hurrying behind me.  Bracing myself, I spun to face her.  When she stepped out of the building, I involuntarily held my breath.  Her hair was swept off her face and pinned back, loose strands danced on her shoulders as she moved towards me.  She wore a long, strapless, navy dress that swished with each step, hugging her hips and showing just the slightest hint of cleavage.  Her neck and shoulders were bare, smooth and creamy white.

*

“Ben.” She stopped a few feet in front of me and looked straight into my eyes.

*

“Abigail.”  I stared back, not willing to show her my pain by avoiding her eyes, but her emerald gaze nearly broke me.

*

“It’s so good to see you!”  She rushed forward and threw her arms around my neck.  My entire body stiffened and I wouldn’t let myself hug her.  She quickly let go and took a step back, pain clouding her eyes.

*

“It’s really, really good to see you,” she repeated.

*

“I wish I could say the same.”

*

She took another step back, looking like I’d slapped her.  She brought her hands up and wrapped them around her arms, rubbing them up and down to warm the goose bumps forming in the chilly autumn air.

*

“Look, Abigail, I’m sorry.  That came out a lot harsher than I meant it to.”  I took off my jacket and handed it to her.  Attempting a smile, she took it and pulled it on.

*

“I understand.  I’m not really happy to see me most days.”

*

“Don’t start with that.  I don’t need to play your self-esteem coach tonight.”  Again, she winced at my words, and again I felt guilty for being so rough, but I didn’t apologize this time.  “Why are you here?”

*

“Matt and Trish invited me.”

*

“Yeah, I know that.  But why did you come?”

*

“Isn’t that obvious?  I wanted to see you.”

*

“Why?  Can’t you just stay away from me?  Every time I turn around, there you are.  Your name, your family, your baseball hat.  I can’t take it anymore.  How am I supposed to forget you if I can’t get you out of my life?”  All of the resentment inside me seeped out as I yelled at her, unable to control any longer the anger she’d created.

*

“You want to forget me?” she asked through sobs.

*

“Yes, you didn’t seem to have any problem forgetting me.  You left me and you haven’t even glanced back, except for one phone call on my birthday.  What’s that about?  Were you trying to ruin my day?”

*

“No, Ben, I didn’t think, I…”

*

“Yeah, you didn’t think.  You’ve only thought about yourself.  Did you even consider I wouldn’t want to see you here?”

*

“Yes, I did, but I hoped you would.  I thought, well, have you been reading my articles?”

*

“Yeah, sure.  A poor substitute for you being here.”  I don’t know why I lied.  What difference would it make if I’d read the articles?  For some reason, my anger wouldn’t let me hurt her in that way.

*

“Ben, I had no idea you were so upset, please, let me explain.”  She could barely speak through her tears, but still I ranted on.

*

“Explain what?  That I wasn’t enough to keep you here?  That your job means more to you than I ever did?  How can you explain that?  You can’t explain it and I don’t want to hear it.  I’m done.  I needed closure and this feels pretty final to me.  Don’t call me again.  I don’t ever want to see you again.  I’m done.”  I stormed past her into the hotel and didn’t look back.  I left her crying, just like she left me seven months ago.

*

My victory was short lived.  As soon as my feet hit the ballroom entrance, I was racked with guilt.  No matter how badly I hurt, no one deserved to be treated like that.  I turned on my heel and followed the path I’d just taken.  She wasn’t there anymore, but I found my jacket folded neatly on a bench near the entrance to the hotel.  Putting it on, I caught her scent, probably for the last time.  My body slumped backward and the bench caught me.  Putting my head in my hands, I let myself cry until I was completely drained and exhausted.

*

I knew I had to go back into the reception, but celebrating the happy beginning of Matt and Trish’s marriage seemed like the absolute worst idea in the world.   How could I act happy for them when my heart was broken and bleeding?  When I knew Abby was somewhere weeping and devastated?  Wasn’t confronting her supposed to make me feel better?  Why did I feel worse than ever?

*

Matt’s voice floated out from the entrance.  “Hey, Ben, we’ve been looking for you.”

*

“I’ll be right there.”

*

“Dude, you okay?”

*

“No, I’m really not.  But don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  I just need a few minutes alone.”  I kept my eyes focused on the ground and waited until the patter of his footsteps ceased before standing and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.  Finding a bathroom on the way to the ballroom, I splashed water on my face to cool the red heat threatening to give me away.  Get it together, Ben.  For Matt and Trish.  This is their day.

*

The DJ announced the garter toss as I entered the ballroom for the third time.  I didn’t join the other single men on the dance floor.  Abby was across the room, leaning against a wall.  Even from the distance, I could tell her eyes were red and her cheeks splotchy with tears. When our eyes met, she turned her head immediately.  I watched as she walked over and spoke to Matt and Trish.  Then she gathered her bag from her table and left from a side door.  My heart beat wildly in my chest, until I clutched at it, afraid it would literally break.

*

It was really over.

*

*

<– Chapter Thirty-Eight: Regret ******************** Chapter Forty: Broken –>

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Regret

Abby

*

I slumped into my apartment after a long day at the Intuition offices.  I met with Elizabeth for two hours, going over my September and October itineraries and editing my current piece.  She loved the personal information, but had a lot of comments on my coverage of Spain.  After that, a teleconference with Helen to go over the same piece produced similar results.

*

With the column finally given the green light to be sent to New York, I hailed a cab, too exhausted to walk, and made my way home.  Well, as much home as my flat could be without Ben.

*

I flung my body onto the couch, not bothering to take off my jacket or shoes, and settled in for a nice long nap when Lottie’s familiar knock sounded on my door.

*

“Ugh, go away,” I called half-heartedly.

*

“No chance of that!” she sang as she glided through the door.  “They brought me your letters again.  Since when do you read Sports Illustrated?”  She dropped a bundle of bills and magazines onto my lap, SI right on top.

*

“Oh my God!  I can’t believe it’s here!” I squealed, unable to answer her question.  I ripped the plastic wrap off the cover and sat up at the same time.  Lottie slid onto the couch, taking the space where my head previously rested.

*

“What’s so exciting about a sports magazine?”

*

“Well, him for one thing.”  I pointed at Dejuane on the cover, but didn’t really give her time to look before flying through the pages and reaching the article on Ben’s business, “and him, for another.”

*

Lottie gawked at the picture of Ben filling up the left hand side of the page and turned her eyebrows up at me.  “So your man’s an athlete?”

*

I sighed.  “He’s not my man anymore, I don’t think.  And not exactly.  He owns this athletic complex.  Well, here, read the article with me, you’ll see what it is.”

*

She shrugged her shoulders and scooted closer to me on the couch.  I flipped the page and started at the top.  Each new sentence, each new paragraph filled my heart with a deep sense of pride.  Ben was such a good man.  He’d done such a wonderful thing with his life.  And I had been lucky enough to be loved by him, even for just a little while, even if I’d ruined it by leaving.

*

Silent tears sprang from my eyes by the time I reached the end of the article.  I could just imagine Ben, sitting in his office, reading the same words.  I wanted to call him, congratulate him.  Tell him how wonderful he truly was, how the article couldn’t even capture half of his generous spirit and kind heart.  I actually attempted to find my phone in my purse, before realizing I was probably the last person he would want to hear from.

*

Lottie finished reading a few minutes after me and tugged the magazine out of my hand to get a better view of the pictures covering the pages.  “Ab, why’d you break up with him again?  He seems fantastic,” she asked, never lifting her eyes.

*

“I don’t know.”

*

Ben

*

Two weeks after the SI article came out, it was still all I could think about.  I got calls from dozens of new investors once the issue hit newsstands and the owner of the Red Sox called me personally to congratulate me!  He even wanted to come to the complex and take a tour.  Money came pouring in and for the first time in over a year, all Steve had to say was “Congratulations.” I was elated, to say the least, but tried to remember my duty to my friends as I approached South St. and the restaurant where I was meeting Matt and Trish for dinner.

*

“Matt, what do you want to do for your bachelor party?” I asked, joining him at a table.  As far as I could tell, Trish hadn’t arrived yet.  It was a weeknight, but most of the tables were full and the lights had already been dimmed.

*

“I don’t know.  I hadn’t thought about it.”

*

“You haven’t thought about your bachelor party?  I thought that was the reason you’re getting married!”

*

“Very funny.  I guess I don’t really feel like a bachelor.  We’ve been together forever.”  He scanned the menu and sipped a beer, looking as if he could care less about the end of his bachelorhood.

*

“We gotta do something.  I’m your best man, it’s like the law that I throw you a bachelor party.”

*

He continued looking over the menu, ignoring me.

*

“We don’t have to do the stripper, cigar, get-drunk-off-our-asses bachelor party, but we should do something.” I grabbed my white cloth napkin off the white tablecloth and put it in my lap, looking around for the waitress at the same time.  I really wanted a beer.

*

“Whatever you want, man.  But definitely no strippers.  Trish would KILL me.”

*

“Now who’s whipped?”  I snorted.

*

“Yeah, yeah.  Laugh it up.  Just tell me where and when and I’ll be there, but seriously: no strippers.”

*

“I think you know me well enough to not worry about that.  Strippers aren’t really my thing.”

*

“Yeah, I know.”

*

Trish walked up at that moment and bent over to kiss Matt before sliding into the chair beside him. “What’re you boys talking about?”

*

“Oh, just the usual, strippers, getting wasted,” I teased.

*

“Riiiight.  Ben, I saw the article.  It was fantastic.  Congratulations!”

*

“Thanks.  Yeah, I think it turned out pretty good.  Did you see the page on Dejuane?”  Picking up the menu, I perused the entrees, and tried to mask my true excitement.  I didn’t want to monopolize the conversation, but I also wouldn’t have minded talking about it all night.

*

“Yeah.  It looked good, too.  We’re so proud of you, aren’t we Matt?”

*

“Of course.  Good job, man.”

*

Shaking my head at Matt’s disinterest, I thanked Trish again.  I knew he was happy for me; he just wasn’t the type to show it.  Trish moved on to discussing the wedding and my article seemed forgotten, until the check came and she insisted on paying for me to celebrate it.

*

We were leaving the restaurant after a delicious dinner, when a familiar laugh caught my attention.  My heart skipped and I whipped my head around quickly, trying to find the source.  Scanning the candlelight tables, I found it, in the back corner of the restaurant.  Anna.

*

My brain couldn’t stop my feet from carrying me over to the table where Abby’s siblings were having dinner.   Anna’s laughter stopped as soon as she saw me, but her smile remained plastered to her face.

*

“Ben!  Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you!”  She hopped up from the table and I couldn’t help but stare at her protruding stomach.  She hugged me firmly, and I actually felt a little punch in my abs.

*

“Anna, you’re pregnant!  Congratulations!”  I grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, trying to wrap my brain around this new information.  It seemed like something I should have already known, but Abby and I hadn’t talked in months, so how could I have?

*

“Yeah, thanks!  I’m due in November. You should see Will, he’s so excited.  He keeps coming home with baby shoes and shirts and toys.  This little girl is going to have him wrapped her little finger.”  She patted her stomach and grinned back at me.  She was glowing.  A little girl.  My stomach lurched.  At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more in life than a little girl with my throwing arm and Abby’s green eyes.  Snap out of it, Ben.

*

“I’ll bet.  Man, I can’t believe it.  I’m so happy for you.”  I hugged her again then turned to greet Derek and Ashley.  Both got up from their seats, Ashley hugged me, and Derek shook my hand.

*

“It’s good to see you,” he said, griping my fingers, “how are you?”

*

“I’m alright.  How are you guys?”

*

“We’re blocking the aisle, let’s sit down,” Ashley motioned to the server trying to get around us and I took the empty chair beside her.  “Ben, we’ve missed you.”

*

My face grew hot, so when a waitress passed I asked for a glass of water.  “That’s nice of you, Ashley, but we don’t need to go there.  What’s new with you all?  Other than Anna’s pregnancy?”

*

“Not much,” Ashley answered.  “We were actually just talking about Abigail.  She was right about this place, the food is delicious.”

*

As she spoke, alarms went off in my head.  I looked around and realized this was the restaurant we’d gone to on our first date.  The waitress who set a glass of ice water in front of me looked familiar.  Had she been our server that night?

*

Ashley didn’t seem to notice my anxiety attack, because she kept right on talking, “Oh, and her latest article came out yesterday, did you see it?”

*

I gulped the liquid down before responding, “Um, no, can’t say that I have.  I guess I’ll have to pick it up.”  Yeah right.

*

“You should.  I think you’d find it interesting.”

*

“Yeah, well, um, I think I’ve interrupted you long enough.  I know your siblings’ dinner is kinda private.”  Hastily standing up, I gave a half-hearted wave and headed for the door.  I barely heard their cries of “goodbye,” as I joined Trish and Matt.  They had paused to wait for me.

*

“What was that all about?”  Trish asked as Matt held open the door.

*

“Abby’s family.”

*

“Ah.”

*

“Matt, I’ll call you about plans for the bachelor party.”  I turned away from them and hopped on my bike.

*

“What bachelor party?  Wait, were you guys serious when you said you were talking about strippers?”  Trish shot daggers at me with her eyes, but I just chuckled and revved my engine.

*

“Not completely.  Good luck, Matt.” Pressing my helmet over my head, I kicked into gear and zoomed out of the parking lot.

*

On the way home, I thought about what Ashley said about Abby’s article.  I realized I hadn’t read a single one since she’d been gone.  A momentary sense of guilt came over me, soon replaced by resentment.  How could anyone even imagine I’d want to read those articles?  They were the reason she left Boston, the reason she left me.  Vowing to never look at them, I turned into my driveway and went inside the house exhausted.

*

The last six months had put me through every conceivable level of hell.  Anger, pain, betrayal, guilt, remorse, love, and even more pain.  The muscles in my neck and shoulders strained against the stress and I tried to work out the knots with my knuckles.

*

Six months and I couldn’t get over her.  Six damn months.  Fury kept growing inside me until I was so frustrated I balled up my fist and punched it through the wall.  The plaster gave way as stinging jolts rushed through my fingers and blood trickled onto the floor.  Pulling my t-shirt off, I wrapped it around my bleeding knuckles and stretched out on the couch, thankful to the physical pain replacing the ache in my heart.

*

*

<– Chapter Thirty-Seven: Angel in the Outfield ******************** Chapter Thirty-Nine: Another Wedding –>

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Angel in the Outfield

Ben

*

July faded into August and the collection of artifacts on my dresser grew to include Abby’s pink Red Sox hat, which I found a week after my birthday hiding under my bed.

*

When I couldn’t sleep, which was pretty often, I’d take her note out of my wallet and re-read the words I’d already memorized.  Some nights the audacity of her phone call and gift would make me livid.  My fists would ball up around the paper and throw it, crumpled, on the dresser along with the other souvenirs.

*

Inevitably though, the next morning, I’d smooth out the wrinkles, neatly refold, and put it back in my wallet.  On those days, I’d seriously consider booking myself on the next flight out of the country, but even the thought of seeing Abby again wasn’t enough to get me through six and a half hours on a plane alone.  At least, that’s what I told myself.  Then, thinking of the distance, fire would rise in my chest and head until I was so pissed off at Abby for leaving, I couldn’t think straight.

*

I repeated the same pattern over and over again, but couldn’t bring myself to dismantle the shrine in my room.

*

“Ben?  Ben! Man, snap out of it!”  Dejuane had to clap his hands in front of my face before I registered that he was in my office.

*

“Oh, sorry.  When did you come in?”

*

“A few minutes ago.  God, you’ve been outta it lately.  Please tell me it’s not still about your woman.”

*

“Says the boy who came to me blubbering like a baby when Sarah broke up with him.”

*

“Man, that’s cold.  That was different, she was already hookin’ up with one of my teammates.”

*

“Yeah, I’m sorry, that was a low blow.  What’s up?”  Swinging my legs until my feet were propped up on the desk, I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back in my chair.  Dejuane held out a slip of paper.

*

“I need letters of recommendation for my college applications.  You mind?”

*

“Not at all.  When do you need them by?”

*

“End of the month?”

*

“Sure, that’s no problem, but why so soon?  School hasn’t even started yet.”  I looked over the list; he was applying to twelve different colleges, all over the country.

*

“I wanna get the applications done and out of the way, so I can focus on my game and getting scholarships.  I won’t be able to send them in until after first semester, but they’ll be ready to go.”

*

“How did you get such a good head on your shoulders?” I asked him, amazed at his foresight and dedication.

*

“I don’t know, I guess I had some pretty cool people to look up to.”  He laughed, heading towards the door.  “Hey, the magazine comes out tomorrow!  I can’t believe I’m going to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated!”

*

“I know, it’s crazy.  Who’d want to put your ugly mug on the cover of a magazine?”

*

“Ugly?  Shoot, you wish you were half as good looking as me.”  He strutted out the door, swinging it closed behind him.  I chuckled, feeling blessed to have the kid in my life.

*

I paused after writing the first draft of his letter to check my email and noticed a new one from Gwen.

*

Hey Ben- the article comes out tomorrow.  I’ve messengered over some advance copies for you and Dejuane.  They should arrive this afternoon at the complex.  Let me know what you think!  Gwen

*

Hitting reply, I thanked her, promising to write again as soon as I read it.

*

When the package arrived an hour later, I dropped everything to rip it open.  Gwen sent ten copies, five for me, five for Dejuane.  My mouth stretched into the biggest grin I’ve ever worn as I examined the cover.  Pride.  It was the only word to describe the emotion building in me.  Pride in Dejuane, pride in myself.

*

I scanned the table of contents and found the page with the article.  A picture of myself standing on the baseball field filled two pages with the headline, Angel in the Outfield: Boston’s Athletic Philanthropist.  The title was new.  Gwen tossed several around, but I’d never heard this one.  My face flushed and my palms grew slick as my fingers fumbled with the corner, trying to separate the pages.

*

Benjamin Harris (29, Boston, Massachusetts) is not your typical philanthropist.  He doesn’t donate millions of dollars every year to numerous charities supporting a wide range of causes.  He doesn’t attend benefits or openings of new medical facilities.  Instead, he spends his days on a baseball field, a basketball court, a golf course.  He spends his days providing a safe haven for the kids of Boston.

*

Not exactly the life most children of privilege choose for themselves.  And that’s exactly how the humble Harris describes himself: a child of privilege.  Growing up in Brookline, a wealthy suburb just to the west of Boston, his parents held important roles in the community.  His father was a successful prosecutor-turned-judge, his mother a respected pediatrician.  He attended Tufts University, then Harvard Business School.  “I wanted for nothing,” he explained.

*

With MBA in hand, Harris could have followed in his parents footsteps and gone to medical school or law school.  Instead, he used his trust fund to build Inner City Sports, an athletic complex situated just north of Dorchester that houses basketball, tennis, and volleyball courts, swimming pools, golf course, and baseball field in addition to fitness center, ticket office, sports bar, and memorabilia store.

*

While the complex itself is an amazing achievement, the real story lies in Harris’s motivation for building it and the way he chooses to run it.

*

At the age of 17, Harris joined the Delta Tau Delta fraternity, and volunteered for the Big Brother program at the local YMCA to fulfill his required philanthropy hours.  “I had no idea what the meaning of compassion, or charity, was before I joined Big Brothers,” Harris smiled as he described his first year at Tufts.  “I just wanted to party and have fun, and the frat said I had to do volunteer hours.”  Don’t let his modesty fool you, though.  He put in more hours in his first year with the Big Brothers than the entire senior class of Delta Tau Delta combined.

*

It was while working with Big Brothers that Harris met Dejuane Jackson, then a five-year old kid living with his mom in Roxbury.  With no funds for childcare, and no father at home to provide Dejuane with a positive male role model, Mrs. Jackson signed her son up for the program at the Y, hoping he would find a better way to spend his time than the other kids on their street.  She was in constant fear that one day her son would join a gang and throw away any chance at a future outside of their neighborhood.  Though Boston has seen a reduction in crime since the 1990s, Mrs. Jackson witnessed first hand what the youths of the city were capable of.  Dejuane’s father was killed in a drive-by shooting when Dejaune was just two years old.

*

With Harris as his Big Brother, Dejuane was encouraged to follow his dream of being a professional basketball player (see page 80 for more information on Dejuane’s hoop dreams).  But, as Harris’s school demands grew, he had less time to transport Dejuane back and forth from the Y.  It was during his second year of business school that he came up with the idea of the complex.  He wanted to create a place where Dejuane and others like him could go to “play, have fun, and be kids.”  Where kids without a privileged background could learn to love sports, just like he had as a child.  And in order to ensure that every kid had that opportunity, he arranged van rides from all over the city to the complex, absolutely free of charge to anyone who wanted a ride.  Use of the facilities is free as well.

*

Throughout the building and construction of the complex, Harris still mentored Dejuane and ensured that his schoolwork was his highest priority.  When Inner City Sports opened in 2006, Harris was 25, Dejuane was 13, and they played the first game on the new basketball court together.  When Dejuane turned 16, Harris gave him his first job, as a part-time employee in the complex’s memorabilia store.

*

Today, the two friends still play one-on-one and Harris still looks out for underprivileged youths.  The complex is open seven days a week, 363 days a year (it closes only on Christmas and Thanksgiving), and the vans run from 8:00 AM until 10:00 PM during the summer, 8:00 PM during the winter.

*

While Harris does make a profit from the non-gratis functions of the complex (the ticket office, gym, sports bar, and memorabilia store), he is constantly exceeding it to improve the free programs; often taking pay cuts to make up the difference.  He also lets investors in, giving the complex even more options for expansion and success.

*

When asked how he feels about being a hero in the community, Harris just laughed and waved the label off.  “I’m no hero.  I’m just a friend.  I’m the lucky one to have these kids in my life.  They show me what true joy is, what a free spirit is.  My love of sports led me here, but I’ve stuck around because of the kids.  Every child deserves the opportunity to play.”

*

And the kids of Boston have embraced the world of sports he provides for them.  When SI visited, every court and field was full.  Children and adults of all ages, races, and backgrounds share the complex, filling it with the joy and spirit that keeps Harris going.

*

He may not consider himself a hero, but Dejuane certainly does.  “Ben was a true brother to me.  He’s been there for me every step of the way. I’m going to graduate high school in ten months and I’ll be the first person in my family to go to college.  That never would have happened without Ben.”

*

And the city of Boston wouldn’t be the same without its athletic philanthropist.    Sure, he doesn’t flaunt his generosity and sure, he’d rather play softball than admit his growing impact on the community, but that’s what makes Inner City Sports, and Harris, so special.

*

My emotions and brain were in hyper drive by the time I got to the end of the article.  I couldn’t make sense of my own feelings.  Gratitude, disbelief, overwhelming happiness.  I sat staring at the last page, a cheesy grin spread across my face, the muscles in my cheeks actually hurting.

*

Picking up the phone, I started to dial Abby’s number, but quickly hung up.  I wanted nothing more than to share this moment with her, but I couldn’t bring myself to finish dialing.  She should’ve been there, it should not have been up to me to figure out the time difference to make the overseas call to experience it with her.  She should be here for this, for me.

*

*

<– Chapter Thirty-Six: An Invitation******************** Chapter Thirty-Eight: Regret –>