November 18th, 2004
Pine Valley Pennsylvania
The Cabin
I feel as if I'm drowning, my whole world spinning as I stand paralyzed, the pain so powerful I feel as though I've just shattered into a million pieces. I know in my mind it is another memory, but it still haunts me and probably always will.
"She wasn't in any pain. She went quietly."
The words sicken my heart and I want to pull Joe by the shirt and scream, "no! She's fine! She's still alive!"
Instead, I turn, watching Anna, her wide eyes filled with tears as she backs up against the wall of the hallway. Her body slumps forward as she slides down to the floor. In my mind I try to catch her, but my feet are like lead, keeping me still, hearing her sob now.
The cries become louder and louder and my head starts to spin. I see Anna holding our daughter's lifeless body in her arms, singing her favorite lullaby.
Leora again, being lowered in the cold, dark, earth.
The Leora I will never know at two, running joyfully into my arms as I walk through the door.
Leora at five coloring pictures of rainbows and flowers with the words 'To Daddy' scribbled with crayon in the corner.
Leora.
She is everywhere. In Anna's eyes. In all the children I watch play in the park, knowing that my daughter never had the chance to laugh like that. In the toys, books, and clothes that are in almost every inch of the cabin.
And as if losing her wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to me, losing her mother hurt just as badly.
"If we're going to get on with life and find reasons to do that, we have to be apart. If I wasn't so convinced that our lives depended on it, I wouldn't go. I'm so sorry that I couldn't…I couldn't force this to work. I'm so sorry that I failed you, that I failed us"
Even now, remembering those words as I start to come out of the deep and depressing sleep, I know I will never love a woman the way I loved her.
Anna.
She taught me that there were more important things than money. More precious joys than power.
She gave me Leora.
She gave me her heart.
And in almost every chance I had, I tore it up into pieces, handing her the rest to repair.
After Leora, she couldn't put them back together, not without me.
The grief kept me distant, kept me from the only person that could ever even begin to understand what this pain feels like.
And in the end I distanced her too.
I loved her.
I still love her.
And if I could just get her back, maybe she would let *me* fight for us this time…
I twirl my hair over an over nervously, my ticket still in my hand as I stare out the window of the plane. I hear the stewardess ask me, for what feels like the eighteenth time, if I would like anything to drink. After almost nine hours in the same seat without a crumb in my stomach I still decline.
The sun is setting, glorious colors of oranges and reds skate along the clouds like water along ocean waves, moving in a rhythm all their own. I turn to the person next to me, realizing there is no one. No one to share this unbelievable sight with.
I sigh, lying my head in my palm as I lean against the cabin wall, wishing for sleep to claim me.
I know I must look terrible, and the least I could have done is get a haircut before I decided to make this impromptu trip to Paris.
But I'm kidding myself.
There was nothing sudden about this trip at all, in fact, it was long overdue.
I should have followed her the day she left. I would have told her how I really felt, told her my life doesn't make sense without her, even told her to go to Paris and come back when she was ready…whenever she was ready.
Instead I did what I always did, drowned my troubles in a bottle of scotch and let the world run my life instead of the one thing that really matters. My heart.
Well, those days of backwards thinking are over and as the plane comes to a screeching halt on the runway my heart begins to pound wildly in my chest.
I take a few calming breaths, getting out of my seat, I walk down the aisle without so much as duffle bag of luggage.
When this trip is over, I hope to be leaving with more than just a plane ticket in my hand.
Paris France
For what feels like hours I stand in front of her door, waiting patiently for the confidence I know must be somewhere to give me enough courage to rap my fingers along the wood.
Five minutes later I shake my head in the same spot, knowing this was impossible. Even if I were able to say the words, she would never take me back. Who was I kidding myself?
Defeated I walk back down the hall of her apartment complex, descending the stairs. The Paris nightlife is alive along the streets as I walk, my head hung low as I barely notice the people pass me.
On accident I run into one of them, my momentum sending me tumbling to the sidewalk below. I expect the person to curse at me in French, but instead I hear a woman's voice, the concern evident as she kneels next to me.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't paying any…"
She stops as I look up at her, knowing before ever seeing her face who it was. I would know that voice anywhere.
"David?" She questions me, disbelieving the fact that I was here, in Paris of all places.
My eyes soak up the sight of her like a sponge. I thought I had engrained every beautiful detail about her in my head, but time as faded the image, and now reality has brought this stunning woman back into my heart all over again.
Her eyes are still pained, but not nearly as much as they had when she had left just one year ago. Her face looks fuller, her hair a little longer, her body still trim and fit as she tries to kneel in a skirt next to me.
"Anna." I breathe, not able to say anything else but her name. I resist the urge to touch her, to pull her to me, to run a hand along her cheek. Instead I sit on the ground baffled, wondering if fate had anything to do with this sudden stroke of luck.
"What are you doing here?" She asks me, already puling at my arm to help me up.
"I…uh…" I try, her arm on me sending a chill down my spine. "I didn't hurt you? Did I?" Is all I can mange at the moment.
She smiles, taking my breath away as we stand, facing each other.
"No. You didn't hurt me."
"Good. Because I…you know…I…"
I stop, realizing what an idiot I am making of myself. I watch her for a few moments as she takes me in. My mind cringes with what she must think of me, the paleness of my face, the five o' clock shadow, the dark circles under my eyes.
"I look terrible." I say, knowing nothing else to say.
She smiles again, shaking her head in a no. I am surprised she has stood here this long with me, the thought giving me hope that maybe she was just as happy to see me as I was to see her.
"You never answered my question." She replies, playing with her watch nervously. "Why are you here?"
I look down to my feet, wondering what the hell I should tell her. Finally I look up, giving her a small smirk.
"Well I *could* lie to you and say I was here for a medical conference…"
"But we both know I can tell when you're lying." She retorts, the smile still on her face as she looks at me amusement. I didn't realize how much I missed that look until this very moment.
"And I didn't come to Paris so I could start lying to you again." I say honestly, hoping she knows this isn't some sort of con or ploy.
"Then why did you come here?" She asks matter-of-factly, her eyes changing, trying to read my own with what motive I would have to be here.
"I wanted to see you." I hesitate at first, adverting her gaze before looking back up to her face.
I can tell in her eyes she is stunned. After almost a year, without so much as a phone call I am standing in Paris, my ex wife in front of me, telling her I wanted to see her. I wait for her to say something, her brow furrowed now.
"Why?" She finally asks.
Again I hesitate, wondering if I had the guts to say everything that has been racing through my mind these past few hours. Finally, tentatively, I take her hand, the gesture surprising her. Still she does not pull back and it gives me hope that there might be a glimmer of something left between us.
"Can we go someplace and talk?" I ask, keeping her hand in mine.
She bites her bottom lip, thinking, wondering in her head if it was a good idea. I hold my breath, expecting her to kick me back down to the curb.
"My apartment is just up the street." She says instead, pointing now as she pulls her hand away. "We can talk there."
"Good…great…yeah…" I say like an invalid, following her now as she walks past me, wondering where we would go from here. If there even was a next step.
I jog a few paces to catch up to her, watching as she pulls her keys from a rather large bag that struggles to lie correctly on her shoulder. It's too heavy for her and as I open the door for her, I slip the straps from her arm, taking it.
"Thank you." She smiles, not expecting my gesture. Hell, why would she?
"Still carrying around heavy files I see."
She nods her head, rolling her eyes at the amount of workload before the door flings open. We head up the stairs I had just came from before we reach her apartment door. She unlocks it and I step inside, admiring the place she has made for herself here.
"It's not much, but it's mine." She says, kicking a jacket into the corner, hoping I wouldn't notice. I can tell she is nervous, and a bit confused, but I walk further in, looking around the living room, to the tones of beige and reds that accent the walls and furniture. To the books and files that line the coffee table and to the kitchen that looks to be untouched. I smirk.
"Does Robin live here too or is it just…?"
"She was here for awhile, but she took an internship on the other side of the city and wanted to be closer to work." She explains as I set her bag down by the couch. "Plus I think she was getting a bit sick of me."
"I doubt that." I say without thinking, wondering if I had any right anymore to comment on her daughter. I look up to try and decipher her reaction, but she is already in the kitchen, opening up a drawer.
"Can I get you some coffee?" She asks as I hear the clinking of cups.
"Um, I'm good. Thanks." I tell her, knowing that if I drank any coffee she made it would be black and mucky.
As if reading my mind she pops her head back into the room, giving me her smile. It amazes me how quickly she does this now, and how it should have been me to make her laugh again, not another city miles apart.
"Do you want to make it?" She offers, teasing me.
I walk towards her and she laughs, handing me the canister. Within minutes I can hear the brew pouring into the pot as she leans against the counter, watching me this whole time. I wonder what she is thinking and am not disappointed when I turn to face her.
"You always were better in the kitchen." She compliments, folding her arms around her.
"Yeah…" I chuckle. "And that's about it."
We laugh together and I feel closer to her in that moment than in all the months before she left.
"When Robin was here…she use to do all the cooking." She nods, looking down to the tile. "The only thing I can make is a good cup of Earl Grey."
I nod back, agreeing, watching as the coffee stops. I take a cup and pour, then repeat the process, handing her one of the mugs.
I drink from it, glad to have something to concentrate on as I wonder how to start the conversation in motion. My heart is racing as the silence fills the air.
"David?" She finally asks, waiting for me to look up from my drink.
"Hmm?"
"You didn't come all the way here to make me a cup of coffee. Did you?"
I swallow, setting the mug down on the counter.
"Not exactly."
"Then why are you here?" She asks and I wonder if she is growing tired of repeating herself. It's time I stop stalling and tell her everything. I take a breath, hoping this comes out in something that doesn't resemble a jumble of words. I motion to the table in the middle of the kitchen and she sits on the stool next to me as I take my seat.
"I could have planned this out better." I start, her eyes locked with mine. "I could have called you first. I could have brought flowers and dressed up in more than just a sweater and a pair of jeans. I could have had this elaborate speech planned out but I don't have *any* of those things Anna."
I run a hand through my hair nervously before continuing.
"I was never good at the formalities you know? I never thought past the moment I was in…which I'm sure you already know by now."
She smiles a small and knowing smile.
"So that's why, after almost a year without even a phone call I get on a nine hour flight to come to Paris to make you coffee. Because apart of me is selfish, and a part of me is arrogant enough to think I still have some sort of say in all of this…but most of all…this…" I motion the air between us. "This hurts like hell. I thought I could live like this, that I could learn how but I can't. I can't even make it through one day without thinking about you. About us."
"David…" She tries to stop me, but it's too late, I couldn't even begin to stop the words if I tried.
"I know this makes you uncomfortable and I'm sorry. After all of this…if you still want me to go I will, but I can't part from you a second time without telling you…"
With tears I have just noticed in her eyes, she nods her head slowly, giving me the floor. I take her hands in mine, steadying them, my eyes focused on her.
"I love you Anna." I say with meaning, watching one of those tears slip down her cheek. "In a way I've always loved you. I thought I could stop. I can't." I shake my head. "You're apart of me. You're apart of our little girl and in my foolishness I thought I could stop loving you, but how could I? If I can't stop loving Leora, how could I even begin to stop loving you?"
"Oh David…"
"I know I hurt you. I know that I have no reason to be here, but I couldn't help myself." Tentatively, I lean over, brushing a few tears away with the pad of my thumb, reveling in the softness of her cheeks. It hurts me to see her cry, but I can't keep carrying this around anymore.
"I miss you." I smile, her hand still in mine. "The sound of your voice. Your hair in my face when I sleep. Even the coffee you make that I can barely choke down."
She laughs at this, which was my intention before I continue.
"I never should have let you go. It should have been me Anna. To make the pain go away. To hold you when you wanted to cry. It should have been me."
"But it wasn't." She tells me honestly, her voice hoarse from the tears. "And we can't change that."
"You're right." I nod. "We can't."
"I don't blame you David." She squeezes my hand. "You dealt with your grief the only way you knew how, but when it was all said and done…I had nothing left to give you. To put back together. So I did the only thing I could." She sniffs.
"You left." I answer for her, looking down to our hands together.
"I was drowning." She admits. "And the thought of you going under with me…"
"I should have been helping you." I say harshly, angry with myself for not being the man she needed. The man she deserves. "I should have been holding you up."
"And then what would have happened?" She cries back. "One of us was going to sink whether we want to admit to it or not. You coming here doesn't change that fact."
"Does it change anything at all?" I ask, my tone changing, my eyes wide as she turns her head away, the question a little too blunt. After several seconds she turns back.
"I don't know." She whispers.
I look at her, knowing that this was a long shot in the first place. Still, it was good to tell her. Because she knows now that I love her and nothing will ever change that.
"I'm sorry." Is the only thing I have left to say. "I'm sorry I hurt you Anna. That I blamed you. That I wasn't there physically and emotionally for you. Out of all the mistakes I've ever made, those are the ones I regret the most."
"I'm sorry too." She nods her head after several seconds, brushing away tears from my own cheeks. I didn't even know they were there until this moment. In the back of my mind I wonder if this will ever stop hurting. "I didn't blame you then, and I certainly don't blame you now David. You gave us the three most perfect months of our whole lives." She smiles at me. "I won't ever hold you responsible for what happened. It just wasn't her time. It was no ones fault she couldn't stay with us."
I don't want to, but all I can do is nod my head.
She was gone.
And nothing I could say or do tonight or any other night, would ever bring her back.
For what feels like an eternity we sit together, knowing it would really be the end this time. I hold her hand as tight as I can, not wanting to let it go. When the clock in the hall chimes nine I close my eyes and release it, cursing the time that I never was able to make the most of.
"I should go." I say, the words breaking my heart all over again.
"Yeah." She replies softly getting up from the stool as I do the same.
We walk to the door together and I open it. I turn back around, wanting to get one more look at her. I bring a hand to cup her cheek, giving her a soft smile. She smiles back.
"I don't have any regrets." She tells me, my thumb tracing below her eye. "Not one."
"I could never regret you. Not one minute of what we had."
Her breath hitches and I lean down softly, bringing my hand away to kiss her cheek.
"Goodbye Anna."
"Goodbye David."
I turn around, shutting the door behind me, my dreams of any happiness that was left in life now broken. In a haze I make my way down the stairs, wondering if all of this was worth the pain I was feeling. If it gave her closure…then it was.
I push the door open and I am back outside in the fall weather, the streets still as busy as when I had left them. Silently, I walk back down the sidewalk, feeling more lost than I even could have imagined.
Looks like the pain wasn't going away after all.