The Heart's Ashes (3 page)

“
Ara?” his voice sounded echoed, as if he were calling through
cupped hands.

I sighed
heavily. “Mike?”

“
Ara?”

“
I’m over here.”

Nothing but a
bulky silhouette showed in the shadows near the trail. The dark
made him look menacing and creepy. He sighed heavily, staying where
he stood, lit by the soft green light of a phone beside his cheek.
“Greg. I got her,” he said. “Yes...okay, I’ll bring her home with
me. No—thanks, Greg.”

I turned away
when the light withdrew as he dumped his phone in his pocket and
looked at me. “Ara?” The word came out in a long sigh.

“
I’m sorry, Mike.” I hugged my knees closer.

He hoisted
himself onto the rock, shaking his head. But, then, he just sat
quietly and watched the lake with me while the sunlight in the
distance disappeared completely.

After a while,
he turned to me and said, “You look damn beautiful, girl.”

I said
nothing.

“
Just tell me why? Ara, why did you wait until you made it to
the altar?”

A rise of heat
flooded my stomach, shaking my insides. “I don’t know.”

He opened his
mouth to speak, but let it out with a huff. “Do you still want to
marry me—ever?”

“
Mike,” I whispered. “I just—I want you to be happy. I’ll
never be
that
girl; the one that loves you and
only
you, the one who can think of
no one else in the world.” I rested my chin to the cold satin dress
over my knee.

“
I was okay with that, Ar. The heart takes time to heal,
I—”

“
No.” I paused and looked at him. “When I kiss you, I should
only see
your
face. But I...well, I...I’m not her, Mike. I fell in love,
but he’s gone now—and I can’t move on. I can’t love you when it
will never be openly.”

“
Ar—”

“
No. I want better for you—you deserve better.”

“
Don’t you think that’s a decision
I
should get to make?” More
agitation than I’d ever heard before filled his voice, making him
seem more fragile in the darkness without the expression on his
face to simmer it down. “Ara, I was happy with you. I know you’ll
never be over him. But it was enough for me.”

“
Only because you’ve never had that kind of love before. You
don’t know any better.”

Mike nodded
thoughtfully. “I think you’re making a mistake.”

“
I probably am.” I shrugged one shoulder slowly.

As the moon
rose over the lake, painting the top of the water with a silvery
line and announcing the end of my last day as a child, Mike placed
his arm around me and softly said “I have a plane to catch.”

“
You’re going back?” I asked, knowing already that he would.
Of course he would.

“
There’s not much reason for me to stay right now. I think we
both need time to think.”

I nodded, but
although I tried to be strong, the tears burst out of me. I pressed
the back of my wrist to the crease between my brows and let myself
sob for a minute, while Mike just sat, breathing jaggedly, looking
out at the darkness.

“
I’m so sorry, Mike,” I whispered, but he didn’t
respond.

The airport
had a different presence to me as I walked between Dad and Mike.
The clouded blur you get for what stays behind when you’re about to
take a journey someplace else were no longer mine. I’d been
prepared for weeks to come here, board that plane, and never look
back. Now, I was on the other side; instead of leaving behind a
memory, I would wave, then turn around and walk back into the air
and the energy of the place I was never going to return.

People stared
at me as they passed, not because I was in a wedding dress—I got
changed before my dad drove us to the airport—but because I was
crying so hard I couldn’t see through the tears.

Mike’s head turned an inch to look at me, and though he
clearly saw the plea for forgiveness in my eyes, he looked away. He
won’t say it. I knew he wanted to yell at me, or cry, or tell me
how much he hates me, but he wasn’t saying anything. He hadn’t
said
anything
.

“
Please, Mike?” I sobbed while Dad waited at the security
check-in to have his shoes scanned. “Please say
something.”

He sighed,
dropped his bag to the ground and stepped into me. “Don’t cry.”

“
I’m trying not to.”

He nodded.
“You just have to be strong,” he said softly, stroking the side of
my face. “You’ve always been so strong. I’ll...I’ll be okay.”

“
No, you won’t.” I wiped my face. “I know you
won’t.”

“
Final boarding call for flight two-oh-three.”

Mike looked up
at the speaker box. “I have to go,” he said, and I cried harder
then. My dad wrapped his arm around me as Mike picked up his
bag.

“
Greg.” Mike shook Dad’s hand. “Thank you—for
everything.”

Dad let go of
me to hug Mike, patting him on the back several times, saying
something I didn’t hear.

Mike nodded
and stepped back, then looked at me for a second. “Bye, Ara.”

My chest shook
and I sobbed my heart out as he backed away, one step at a time,
before throwing his bag over his shoulder and turning
around—without a hug, without a kiss, without anything.

The sight of
him leaving was more than I could bear. As he stopped at the gate,
he handed the girl his boarding pass and I could almost feel myself
running after him. But I didn’t move. “I don’t want him to go,
Dad.”

Dad cleared
his throat. “Ara...”

“
What if I’m making a mistake? What if we’re meant to be
together?”

“
Then you better run after him.”

I watched with
tear-filled eyes as the girl placed the boarding pass in his hand,
and he lowered his head, looking at it for a moment.

“
Mike?” I called across the distance between us.

He looked up
with eyes full of imprisoned tears. He was trying to be strong, but
I was supposed to be with him—going home. We should’ve been
laughing, holding hands, kissing and telling everyone we were just
married. This should’ve been the happiest day of our lives.

Only now, Mike
was leaving. Alone.

But my call to
him went out in vain, because I had nothing else to add; I couldn’t
run into his arms, I couldn’t change it—any of it. It had to be
what it was. I had to watch, had to see his hope break again as he
nodded to himself, knowing I was going to let him walk away. Then,
as the hostess waited for him, the last passenger, he waved once
and disappeared through the doors.

A piece of me
fell away inside. I couldn’t move. Everyone around me was still
smiling and talking, continuing with their lives. But mine just
stopped.

Everything
stopped.

My shoulders
lifted with each gasp of realisation; he came here to say goodbye,
all those months ago when we saw each other for the first time in
so long, and now he’s leaving with exactly what he thought he was
coming here for—a broken heart.

“
Come on, honey.” Dad gently grabbed my shoulders and turned
me away from the devastating sight I’d come to know so well in my
life; the emptiness of farewell. “Let’s get you home.”

“
Dad,” I said, fighting to glance back. “Did you see that—did
you see the way he looked at me?”

Dad, unable to
meet my eye, just nodded and said, “Yes. I saw it.” And despite his
obvious disappointment, he still hugged me before I climbed into
the car, and told me everything would be okay, but I knew what he
really wanted to say.

The red rose—the one from Dad’s buttonhole—sat scrunched-up,
abandoned, in the tray under the dash, and the words my dad had
said to the driver echoed in my mind;
You’re a real life saver...life saver...life...

That driver
may never know exactly how many lives he saved by saving me from
myself. I will never destroy another man’s heart by believing I can
love him—ever again.

I’m going to
live my life as living was intended.

But I’m going
to do it alone.

Chapter
2

“
Emily? Do you have that box with the kettle in
it?”

“
Yeah, on my way,” she called. The setting sun’s long orange
shadow faded from the tiles as the front door closed and Emily
bounded around the corner carrying ‘Emily’s glory box’. “You gonna
make coffee, Ara?”

“
I was thinking about it.”

She dusted her
hands on her three-quart jeans after placing the box beside me. “I
really do love this house. It’s very you.”

I hopped down
off the bench, nodding while taking in the pale colours and soft
light that filled the airy space. “Yeah. My mum would’ve loved
it.”

She patted my
shoulder. “I know. And Mike would have too.”

I rolled my eyes and reached into the box.
I’m so sick of hearing about Mike. I get it. He’s
hurt. I suck. Leave it in the past, Emily.

“
Hello?” A high voice filled the house as sunlight coloured
the white tiles again.

I set the lip
of the kettle under the tap and ran the water. “Hi, Vicki. We’re in
the kitchen.”

“
You must have known we were on our way,” Dad said, nodding at
the kettle as he came through the archway.

“
Hello, Mr. Thompson.” Emily retied her headscarf and flicked
her blonde hair away from her chin as she smiled up at my
dad.

“
Emily.” He nodded. “Nice to see you again.”

“
You too, Mr. Thompson.”

“
You can call me Greg, now, Emily. You’re not one of my
students anymore.”

“
Old habits die hard.” She shrugged and walked over to me.
“I’ll get the coffee, Ara. You go show your parents
around.”

“
Is that an offer or an order?”

Emily plugged
the kettle in near the stove. “The way you make coffee? It’s an
order.”

Dad laughed,
but Vicki remained distracted in a stare of awe, slowly spinning
around to take everything in. “Ara—” She reached out and gave me a
one-armed hug. “This house is perfect for you.”

“
I know.” I smiled back at Emily. “We were just saying the
same thing.”

“
So, when does the dining table arrive?” She motioned an open
palm to the space across from the galley-style kitchen.

“
Three o’clock, and they’re bringing a lounge to go in that
sitting room as well.”

“
Just a lounge?” she asked; I nodded. “That’s a big room, Ara,
dear, you’ll need more than a—”

“
I’m planning on that being the music room,” I said quickly,
before I could get an hours’ worth of interior design advice. “Once
I can afford a piano.”

“
Oh, okay,” she said, running her hand across the glossy top
of the hip height wall between the dining and sitting room. “What’s
with the small wall?”

“
They call it a nib—a fashionable method of dividing two
rooms, without actually diving them. I’ll just use it as a junk
storage area, I think.”

Emily groaned
from the kitchen. “Good thing we at least have a dishwasher.”

“
Are you saying I’m untidy, Emily Pierce?”

“
Would I say that?” she said dismissively as she poured hot
water into mugs.

“
You just did.”

“
Now, now, you two. I’m sure you can work out the chores
between you. You’ll just have to draw up a roster,” Dad
said.

“
Nah, Emily’ll be at college mostly. It’ll just be
me.”

Dad nodded. I
knew he didn’t approve of my decision not to go to college, but he
hadn’t said it...yet.

“
So, which room is yours, Emily?” Vicki asked, changing the
subject, I think.

“
Oh, I took the first bedroom down the hall, right next to the
bathroom.”

“
So you’re in the master bedroom, Ara?” Dad asked.

“
Yep. I’ll show you.” I linked arms with Dad and Vicki and led
them back the way they came.

“
Oh, now that’s exactly where I would’ve put that couch.”
Vicki, forced by the pull of my finished lounge room, stopped just
before my bedroom door.

“
Yeah, I figure a book in hand, coffee on the table and the
golden sunlight would make for my kind of afternoon.”

“
Gets bright, though,” Dad said, holding his hand as a visor
above his eyes. “That lake’s a bit reflective, isn’t
it?”

“
I know.” I looked out at the grassy picnic spot across the
road. “But that view is the reason I chose this place, so I don’t
mind a bit of blinding every now and then.”

“
It’s lovely.” Vicki nodded, then her eyes widened as she
turned around and looked into my bedroom. “Wow, it’s light in here
too, and very open.”

“
Where will you put your bed?” Dad asked.

“
Right where you’re standing.”

He looked down
at his feet, drew his hands from his pockets and skipped away from
that spot as though he’d been standing on the bed itself.

The room was
square, with the bathroom sitting beside the door to the wardrobe
and across from the windows. I’d been told that it was bad feng
shui to have the foot of your bed facing the door or a window, so
that left only two ways my bed could actually go.