The Broken Promise
He walked slowly through the snow, his black boots slipping slightly on the icy path. He kept his head down, his hands placed firmly inside the pockets of his black trench coat. The snow fluttered down from the darkening sky as he continued to trudge through the blankets of snow.
"James!" a voice cried from within the snow covered trees. "I swear James if you throw that snowball at me!" a young girl shouted as she burst through the trees, the sound of her voice fading as she continued to run away. A small boy followed, laughing happily behind her with a snowball clasped tightly in his gloved hands. The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed through the quiet park.
The man's boots slowed and came to a halt as he rounded the bend. He had come to a small clearing, surrounded by large oak trees laden with crisp white snow. In the middle was a green bench which he headed instinctively towards. He stopped just before it, his blue eyes searching the clearing as if he was looking for someone. He sighed heavily whilst he wiped the snow off the bench with his hand. He glanced around one more time before taking his seat slowly. The hum of the distant city was the only sound as he sat motionless, his head bowed, hiding his emotionless features.
"Hi Mac," a shy voice suddenly said. The man's head shot up instantly, his eyes searching frantically for the source of the voice. There she stood on the opposite side of the clearing. She tucked her shoulder length curly brown hair behind her ears before tugging the sleeves of her green jumper down over her pale hands. A small smile spread over her face as she saw the man looking intently at her.
"Hey," his hoarse voice replied as he watched her move to sit next to him. "I thought you wouldn't come," he said turning to face her.
"How could I refuse?" she said, laughing slightly at the man's bemused face.
"I missed you," the man whispered as though he was ashamed, he hunched his shoulders and lowered his head once again to the ground.
"I missed you too but Chicago was great you know," she said placing her hand on his black jean clad thigh. His eyes suddenly narrowed, his brow became furrowed as he started searching her face for answers. "You know, it's not as windy as people say, but you would know that wouldn't you?" she joked trying to force a smile. He shook his head before turning to stare resolutely across the clearing leaving the women to her own thoughts. The snow dripped from the tree above them onto his shoulder but he still didn't move.
"Do you remember the last time it snowed?" he suddenly asked breaking the awkward silence between them. She laughed, the joyous sound echoing around them. His lips twitched to form a small smile.
"My snowman was better," she said petulantly.
"Was not!" he cried in outrage.
"Yours didn't even have a scarf on it, everyone knows snowmen always wear scarves otherwise they get frost bite," she said matter of factly, trying desperately to keep a straight face. His smile broadened as he continued to watch her. Her green eyes glinted happily in stark contrast to the pure white snow which surrounded them.
"Aren't you cold?" he asked anxiously, glancing down at her pale looking hand.
"I'm fine," she said earnestly although he still didn't believe her.
"I really really missed you, a lot," he added, his voice choking up as he smiled at her. She nodded seeming to know that he would understand. Slowly and cautiously he took his hand out of this pocket and tried to take her hand in his. But his fingers melted through hers to touch his own thigh. He looked horrified at her fading face, her green eyes started to fill with tears.
"You promised you'd never leave me Stella!" he shouted trying to touch her face desperately with both of his hands.
"I couldn't keep that promise, I'm sorry, "she whispered before disappearing silently, leaving him once again alone on the park bench.
He stood up shakily and crossed the clearing towards an old tree. His now pale hand reached out towards the peeling bark. His tear filled blue eyes lingered on the crudely engraved initials: S.T and M.T which were encased by a wonky heart. He turned his back to the carving which was now etched into his mind. He slid roughly down the tree to the frozen ground and finally the tears flowed freely down his chapped cheeks. He tried to wipe them away angrily with the back of his hand but he couldn't stop his shoulders shaking as he started to sob.
The snow fluttered silently downwards from the heavens whilst the New York skyline glittered with tiny fireflies. The taxis raced through Time's Square and along the length of Brooklyn Bridge and Mac Taylor sobbed alone in the heart of Central Park.