“Asa.” Everything that left either Carmen’s or Asa’s mouth was a gasp now, every single syllable short of breath and thick with emotion.
“Tell me.”
“I’m so happy right now,” she told him, her breath still faltering as she grabbed a fistful of his sweater.
Asa kissed her forehead again. “I’m happy that you are. You deserve the world.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She began shaking her head frantically, her voice trembling. “I’m happy, so goddamn happy, Asa. And I… I don’t—this is too unreal. I haven’t been this content and at peace in, like, forever and I just… Maybe I’m being irrational, but I can’t shake the feeling that this will all just get ripped away from me.”
“Carmen—”
“And—and—and—” Her hold on his sweater tightened, and Asa watched in horror as she looked up at him with scared, watery eyes. “I did have true happiness once, you know. I remember what it was like to have known love. It feels like a lifetime ago, but I remember. I remember what it felt like. And I also remember what it was like to have it all snatched from my grasp within the blink of an eye when my mum died.”
“Mi amor, I need you to breathe, all right? Please just take in deep bre—”
“I thought that feeling was gone forever, that I’d never know what it’d be like to be loved irrevocably, and I have it now, Asa. I have it with you. But happiness has never stuck with me before; it’s always so fleeting. So temporary and—”
Asa grabbed her chin and lifted her face to look at her with determined eyes. “We are not temporary,” he said firmly, making sure she understood how serious he was, and then rested his forehead against hers again. “I can feel your heartbeat,” he mumbled after a while, focusing on the accelerated beats of her heart since her chest was firmly pressed against his own. “It's skyrocketing. Just like mine. Try and tell me that's temporary.”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, looking away.
“For?”
“Panicking. Breaking down on you like that.”
“If not me, to whom are you going to break down on?” He kissed her temple. “You’re always being brave and strong for everyone else. Let me be the one person you don’t have to put on a mask for.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. “Let me in, Carmen. No matter what, always let me in.”
She gave him a tiny smile, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth through him and calm his insides.
“I will,” she promised, releasing the death grip she had on Asa’s sweater and relaxing slowly as the panic faded away.
“Carmen?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s something I've been wanting to tell you all night.”
“What is it?”
“You were wrong the other night,” he said softly. “About the binary pairs.”
“I was?” she sounded confused.
“Well, no, not really. You were right. But also wrong.”
A short laugh fell past Carmen’s lips. “That makes no sense.”
“You said that there was a primary star in the system and a secondary one whose light was dimmer. Well, I went back home and did some reading about the whole binary system.”
“And?”
“And, as it turns out, in certain cases both stars do have equal brightness.” Asa smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. “And then there’s a type of a binary pair called close binaries.” He cupped her face, running soothing circles on her cheek with his thumb. “They say that both the stars in that particular system have the ability to transfer their mass from one to the other, almost like giving each other parts of themselves.” Asa pulled her in for a tight embrace, hugging her so hard that he might as well have kept all the broken pieces inside her firmly held together. “And I think that’s pretty darn amazing,” he said into her hair.
Carmen didn’t respond, but the way her hands tightened around his torso, the way it screamed never let me go never let me go never let me go as she returned the hug, spoke volumes to Asa.
“So, see,” Asa murmured, stroking her hair gently. “Two stars can shine equally bright. And the next time you compare stars to souls, just remember that they can be equals.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in her scent and enjoying the sense of calm it brought him. “Life finds a way to beat the odds, Carmen. You just need to know where to look.”
49.
I’ll Stand by You
The rest of the days passed by in nothing short of pure bliss, and before long, Thanksgiving had arrived too, and the reality of it all hit Carmen in the face like a bucket of iced water.
Her father had grown even more withdrawn than ever, filling in for more shifts at the hospital. Carmen would wake up most days to find himself already gone which eventually cut down their time usually spent together during breakfast.
The logical part of Carmen told her he needed space to think, to come to terms with the fact that he was stepping foot in the family home of his wife’s side after so many years. He was probably anxious to the bone of meeting the people who were once his people too.
But another part of Carmen couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it was she that he was avoiding. That maybe staying in the same room as her was becoming too much for him.
Everybody had their breaking point. Everybody had to hit rock bottom one way or another. Maybe her father’s time was now. And maybe, after hitting it, he’d be able to dust himself off and start over.
Maybe next time
