Part 20
It was past one in the morning when Bella and Scout returned to the apartment, having spent the entire day out in the city, taking in the sites, exploring their rekindled "love", reveling in the feeling of having found each other once again. As they burst through the apartment doors, they called for Will, who they were sure by now had figured out what had transpired between the two of them and who they were so anxious to thank, for if it were not for him there to give them both some clarity about the situation, the reconciliation may have never come about. He was their 'Guardian Angel' they had decided, for through it all, he had remained a loyal and true friend, ready and willing to guide them through their misguided and complicated lives, and finally, back to one another. As Bella hop-skipped through the living room and for the bedroom door, she continued to call Will's name, in a voice that clearly elucidated her ecstatic and gleeful state.
She walked to the door, tapping slightly on it, though she knew it wasn't necessary. When he didn't respond, she twisted the knob, opening it slowly, and was instantly puzzled by what she saw.
He wasn't there.
The blinds were down, the bed made up perfectly, the bedside table cleared of the books she remembered him placing down there, the suitcase—his suitcase—nowhere to be seen. She stepped in further, calling his name in almost a whisper, as if he was hiding in the cracks somewhere…maybe behind the door…but there was no answer.
"Will?" she called out, sounding more alarmed this time. She glanced at the bed, the bleach white sheets starkly contrasting against the dark blue walls and the even bluer carpet. And there, lying on top of the pillow was a photograph—a postcard to be precise. It was of a place Bella had never traveled to before, but had heard Will talk about endlessly ever since he had spent a semester abroad there, and for all his talk, it seemed to be the only place he loved as much or maybe even more than New York City; it was a place where he felt like he…belonged.
She flipped the card to the backside and scribed in a handwriting that read Will Krudski all over it was the answer she sought.
It just was not the one she bargained for.
Her jaw dropped slowly as she sat down on the bed, her eyes intent on what she held in her hand. Her stare did not stray from the words before her, not even when Scout came in the room, he too, puzzled at the emptiness of it, and the site of her just sitting there, motionless.
"Bella, what is it?" he asked, curious and fretful, kneeling down before her so that they were at eye level. She looked up at last, as if awoken from a numbing sleep, extending her hand forward, giving him what she held in it. Scout took it in his hand, sat beside her, and began to read. It didn't take him long to complete it and when he did, he looked at her knowing…well, knowing what they both did. He wrapped his arm around her and cradled her against his body, still holding the postcard in his hand. They stayed there for a while, just like that, their silence deafening, each coping with this knowledge separately, but together at the same time.
At long last, Bella broke the hush by saying faintly, a small, but sure smile playing on her lips, "I hope he finds what he's looking for."
"Me too," he replied, smiling too, as he pulled her closer and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. "Me too, baby. "
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Jake and Hamilton lounged on their beach chairs, the white sand at their feet, the clean, clear blue waves crashing onto the Indonesian shore. Jake laughed when she glanced at Hamilton, sleeping peacefully under the afternoon sun, already tanned though they had only been out an hour. She reached over, moving a strand of hair that had fallen over his eyes, lids fluttering as he dreamed.
This was one dream she never wanted them to wake up from.
She turned back to what she had been doing before—reading. And it was not just some odd, obtuse romance novel she picked up at the airport, but a masterpiece, or at least, it soon would be—Will's screenplay. Jake had skimmed it before, just before the wedding, and even in that hasty perusal, she was touched…touched like no other piece of work had ever touched her before and she knew…she knew that meant this was something truly brilliant Now, she was nearly at the end, and the emotions that she had felt upon reading it the first time had manifested themselves ten-fold, being moved to tears at too many points in the story. And she never cried—better put, rarely. But it wasn't just because Will's script was so deftly written, but because it was so real. It was their lives. Put beautifully, more beautifully than perhaps he should have made it. Nonetheless, it brought her to tears. The ability to do that was a gift and he had it.
He'd always had it—even back in his first days at Rawley.
When she read the final scene, Jake was beaming, though the traces of teardrops were still apparent on her face. She flipped to the next page and there, attached to the back cover, was a folded piece of paper, with Jake written in the same handwriting as the note Bella had received. She removed it and opened it and read these words:
Just when you thought Will Krudski had said all he needed to say, you find it's not nearly everything at all. If you're reading this, then I guess its all been said and done; the day you've been waiting for your whole life has come and gone, yet a new life has just begun for you. And you're finally exactly where you were always meant to be—with Hamilton.
Life is weird…it turns out just the way you never meant it to be. Well, for most of us that is. How complicated it becomes along the way, the twists and turns, the ups and downs…all of it permanently embedded in your memory to remind you of what you have, or more importantly, what you don't have. Sometimes I wonder if what I know as reality is really that or just a creation of my mind. That what I see and what I feel isn't what really is…that it's just…illusion. That sounds crazy doesn't it? It is and so am I—crazy for falling in love with someone I could never have and even crazier for letting myself believe that one day that love would be reciprocated. I knew that all along yet it never stopped me from being crazy in love…crazy in love with you, Jake.
I have to admit, there were mornings when I didn't want to get up. When it was just too hard to walk out of my bedroom and see you there, sitting on the couch, still in PJs, a cup of coffee in your hands, the morning paper laid out on the coffee table in front of you. Some days I would wake up and just dread to see you that way…to see you…and see all the things I'd always wanted in love but never thought I'd find. And I hated myself for feeling that way. For making it so hard; for wishing that you weren't living in my house, that you weren't my friend, that I'd never cared for you, that I'd never met you…that you never existed. But then you would smile and laugh at me for just standing there—hair ruffled, eyes half closed—staring at you. All the time you never knew why. But your smile—that smile—was enough. Enough to remind me that if all those things were true it would mean losing meaning to everything that ever had value in my life. Enough to make me realize that even though you would never be for me what I wanted you to be, what we did have…WAS enough. And that is Real. And True. Just the way things should be.
I still wake up wishing that things were different. But I always knew things would be this way, no matter how much I tried to pretend and kid myself that I would eventually get what I wanted. I'll be okay…I promise you I will. So you don't have to worry about me. I can be strong…like you. After all, time heals—I hope. Or maybe it just changes your sense of reality, dims things for you, retraces and rewrites memories so that they are a little easier to look back on.
Either way, I take comfort in that thought and that in my own time, I will learn to live without you. Above all, that is what I need you to remember about me, Jake.
You know, despite everything, I still believe in love. I have to because it's the only way to justify what I feel and what I will do from here. Believing in love is a constant battle with yourself because love isn't the way it is in the movies or in songs or in books--if it was, we wouldn't be going through what we are going through now. I would have you and to even wish that is wrong. Incredibly wrong. True love doesn't wish for wrong—only for what is right.
But this isn't fiction. This is life. My life. And while it is a distinct possibly that I will find love again, there's also a great chance that I might not. And that's okay. I can live with that.
What can I say? The life of a philosopher-poet is a pretty solitary gig. My mentor taught me that…
So this it. And this is goodbye. I think you always knew deep down things would end up this way too. We were both just too afraid to admit it. I think we both know this is the only way things can be. You with him and me…anywhere but here. You understand, I know you do or will at least. That's what I love about you—you always understood me, when no one else did, and when no one else wanted to. The way you always saw the good in me and gave me good back…and never any less.
Thank you, Jake.
Thank you for being you.
He didn't sign it. It just ended that way, the power of his words reverberating in her heart. She couldn't help herself—she gasped a sob so loud and so deep it caught her off guard and for a moment, she was silently thankful that Hamilton was sound asleep. She heard Will's voice in her head as she read those words, causing the tears to fall more and more as the seconds passed, yet her body was still, almost unable to react to what she had just read. She looked to the bottom of the page and at the edge of the page was a design, simple yet familiar. It was a picture of a bridge and a familiar clock tower in the distance and a flowing river of a place she long knew that he belonged—alongside all the other great writers. It was a picture of London.
Beneath the picture, Will had written these words:
This is our last goodbye
I hate to feel the love between us die
But it's over
Just hear this and then I'll go:
you gave me more to live for,
more than you'll ever know.
Quickly she remembered they were lyrics and when she did, she reached into her bag and searched through her CD collection. As fate would have it, it was at the first CD she pulled from the bunch. She shook her head and smiled at this coincidence, and putting her headphones on, she let the sound of music fill her ears. As the tears trickled down her face, the lyrics capturing every emotion she was feeling, memories of Will ran through her mind. As she recalled all of their happy times together, she was overpowered by the memories for in a way, she was seeing her whole life flash before her—a life which Will had been such a big part of. And a life she could not imagine without him in it.
As the song continued to play, Jake brushed off her wet cheeks and smiled involuntarily. She looked over to Hamilton, still sleeping soundly, and gently touched his arm, smiling through the tears. Taking a deep breath, she glanced up to the sky, the bright rays of the sun reflected in her eyes.
Already on the other side of the world, Will looked out of the plane window at the same sky, but this one was just becoming day, for it was just before sunrise on that side of the Atlantic. And as the light of day slowly filled his eyes, he could not help but think of her and smile, and not for anyone else this time, but for himself. Because for Will Krudski, this wasn't just the start of another day, it was the beginning of a whole new world…
This is our last embrace
Must I dream and always see your face
Why can't we overcome this wall
Baby, maybe it is just because I didn't know you at all.
Kiss me, please, kiss me
But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation
You know it makes me so angry 'cause I know that in time
I'll only make you cry, this is our last goodbye
Did you say "No, this can't happen to me,"
and did you rush to your phone to call?
Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind saying,
"Maybe...you didn't know him at all."
Well, the bells out in the church tower chime
Burning clues into this heart of mine
Thinking so hard on her soft eyes and the memory
Of her sighs that, "It's over...it's over..."
[The End]
