Some kids across the street stared at me while I just stood there, still in my PJs, looking frantically up and down the street. It was as if he'd disappeared.
I trudged back inside and cried for several hours. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Part of me wanted to run to him, to believe he loved me. Another part screamed in protest, reminding me I couldn't trust him, he'd only hurt me again. And a very small third part said to stop crying and get over him already. The other parts yelled at that one to shut the hell up because I didn't want to get over him. Even if it meant being miserable.
I remembered the box, brought it into my room before I opened it and found only a couple of things inside. There was my blouse I'd been wearing one night when we made dinner at his house and the sauce splattered all over it, so he gave me one of his t-shirts to wear. His scent permeated my blouse. I buried my face in it and inhaled deeply. Mmm…mangos and papayas, lime and sage, and a hint of man…. I remembered I still had his shirt somewhere. I searched in the bottom of my closet for it and put it to my face. Mmm… I pulled it over my tank top. The only other items were the framed poem I'd given him for Christmas, my engagement ring and a note.
My Dearest, Beloved Alexis,
I love you. Te amo. Je t'aime. Se ayapo. Ti amo.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
I don't know how many times or how many ways I need to say it before you will believe me. I am sure you have lost all trust in me now and I understand. I hope you will understand one day it was not my place to tell you about the Amadis arrangement. All I could do was make it happen and that is what led me to fall completely, irreversibly, undeniably in love with you. You bring the very best out of me, especially the ability to love and allow myself to be loved. After all we have shared, I just don't know how else I can convince you that my love is irrefutably authentic. You are my soul mate.
I am returning the poem you wrote for me because I cannot keep it, knowing you do not feel that love for me anymore. I also want you to keep your ring. I designed it especially for you with the intent of you keeping it forever. Do with it what you want. It is yours and always will be—just like my heart.
I want to believe in you and me together forever, but if you do not come back to me, my forever is over. Without you, my world is bleak again. I beg that you will bring your light back into my life, but if not, I understand and will accept existing in darkness.
I love you more than any soul has ever loved another, my Lexi, ma lykita.
From the deepest, darkest corners of my heart,
ALL of my love,
Tristan
Tears streamed down my cheeks at the first line and I was bawling by the time I finished it. I read it over and over, tears staining it, causing the ink to run in places. I finally dropped it back into the box and held my blouse to my face as I curled up and sobbed.
Mom came in later, after darkness had consumed my room. She flipped the light on, blinding me.
'I thought this morning…' She stopped when I flicked my hand toward the box.
She sat on my bed and peered into it. She picked up the framed poem, read it and set it on my nightstand. I stared at it. I already had the poem memorized. I cried. She picked up my ring and the note and, after reading the note, she placed it in front of the poem and put my ring on top. I cried.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and quiet. 'Alexis, I think you both want the same thing. Why don't you just…'
I interrupted her. 'I just can't yet, Mom.'
She stood up and picked up the now empty box. 'Well, you're running out of time, honey.'
'I know,' I whispered.
I had another night of crying and restless sleep, my blouse and his shirt bunched around my face so I could smell him. By morning, though, I'd decided I'd cried enough. I told myself some fresh air and distraction was what I needed to clear my head and think things through. I went for a short walk on the beach. It wasn't a great idea; I felt so alone. So I went back home and escaped to my book, losing myself in an imaginary love story where everyone lives happily ever after.
'Do you know when he's moving?' I asked Mom that night.
'I don't think he's set a date yet. I think he's still waiting….'
I just nodded and went back to my book. I spent the next day immersed in the fictional world I'd created.
'Has he set a date yet?' I asked Mom that night. She shook her head.
Chapter 17
I spent the next two days the same way. I worked on the book all day; I asked Mom the same question at night. She said no both times. I breathed a sigh of relief. By the end of the third day, I felt the novel was as good as I could make it without input from others. It was time to hand it over—let someone else delve into my fantasies and see what I think about, how weird and twisted and lovely my imagination could be. I practically danced around the printer as each page slowly slid out, feeling both nervous and excited for Mom to finally read it.
Needing something to do to pass the time before she came home, I took a long, hot shower and then painted my toenails purple. Finishing the book and then pampering myself cheered me up. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel good enough to call him . Maybe.
When I came out of the bathroom, I heard voices. I peeked into the kitchen to see who was with Mom. She leaned over the counter, her head in her hands, the phone in front of her. She had it set on speaker and when I heard Tristan's name, I stepped back to listen.
'I've tried to talk sense into him, but he's not listening,' Mom said. 'He insists there's nothing to keep him here, there's no reason to stick around.'
'Stefan has been over there, too, with the same results,' said a female voice through the phone's speaker. She had a foreign accent I couldn't place. 'We cannot let him go, Sophia.'
'I know.'
'There is only one person who will get through to him. You know that.'
'She's still unwilling. I think she wants to, but she's struggling to trust that he really loves her.'
'Oh, of course he does! From what you and Stefan have told me, there is no doubt!'
'I know, but she doesn't. Or if she does, she won't admit it.'
'You need to persuade her, Sophia. She needs to understand. Otherwise, we will lose him forever.'
Mom sighed heavily. 'Yes, I'm sure of that. I'm pretty sure he's going back to them.'
'So am I.'
My chest constricted, strangling my heart. Oh, no! Oh, God, no!
'Do you think they'll kill him?' Mom nearly whispered. My stomach lurched, filling my mouth with the taste of vomit.
'I am not sure. They have a terrible desire to control him again, but if they think they cannot, they will undoubtedly kill him. Either way, we lose him.'
I rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of Mom. Her eyes held mine. She had to see the terror on my face, but put her finger to her lips. I wanted to scream at her and the woman on the phone, but could barely pull air through my constricting throat. I felt like I was suffocating.
'You have to convince her, Sophia! She is the only one—'
'I think we have an answer. I'll call you back.' Mom quickly pressed the end button. 'Alexis…'
The world fuzzed around the edges, then started to go black. I thought I was about to pass out, but I'd never done that before, so I wasn't sure. Mom caught me and set me in a chair, pushing my head between my knees.
'Mom…' I gasped. 'Tristan…?'
'Alexis, did you hear?'
My head shot up and pinpricks of light flashed before my eyes. I looked past them at her face. Her expression was a mix of several different emotions, none of them good. Fear, worry, grief, anxiety…I'd never seen
