Bouncing Around In My Head...

“She said my name and I looked in her eyes and I knew –“ He looked wistful and far-away.

“And what did you say then?” I kept my tone as gentle as I could, not wanting to break the spell, not wanting to bring him back to the present just yet.

His lips curled into a ghost of a smile and his eyes seemed to focus on something in the distance for a moment before he spoke. “I didn’t say anything-“ he admitted, almost sheepishly.

“What do you mean you didn’t say anything?” I had a chuckle in my throat but held the amusement in check.

He looked at me then, a sweet and honest smile spreading across his face, his eyes like wet glass, but focused now, present. “I kissed her”. He was grinning now, the pride and joy and romance of that moment so long ago alive again as he told me the tale.

“You said nothing, just walked up and kissed her?” Damn, but he was so earnest, so open and sweet.

“I kissed her.” He repeated, nodding in the affirmative, “And it- it felt so perfect, so right” he closed his eyes and let his brows come together, he was trying to articulate something that was clearly beyond explanation- “It felt like… like I was home-“ his blue-green eyes opened then and met mine, held my attention completely, “at last, after all those years of pain and sorrow and grief and doubt, finally in that moment I was home.”

The way he caressed that final word, “home”, the way he colored it with such love and longing and reverence, it made my gut twist. I didn’t really want to think about how much he loved her, how perfect their reunion had been. But I did want him to feel that beauty again, to remember his heart, so I pressed on.

“And then?” I prompted, “After the kiss?” My breath was a little more shallow than it should have been and I had to make an effort to regulate it.

“I had so many things I wanted to say, so many questions I needed to ask, needed answered!”

“I can imagine.” I smiled and he returned my smile with a slight chuckle.

“What finally came out of my mouth was: ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’” I let that hang in the air between us for a moment. Studying his face I could tell he was far away again and it gave me a moment to collet myself before pursuing him further.

“You mean- why hadn’t she told you, what?” I knew what he’d meant but I needed him to say it aloud.

“Why hadn’t she told me—“ he took a ragged breath and expelled it forcefully before rushing to finish. “--About the child, about our child. Why hadn’t she told me anything, everything!”

Lies. That was the root of all the pain he was living now, and it was important he realize that they had started well before this latest inident.

“Do you remember how she responded?” I asked, so soft it was nearly a whisper.

His brow contracted and then eased, lines melting, and he looked almost placid. When he spoke he was in near monotone, he was numb.

“She brought me inside, out of the storm, and she- she told the little girl to go to her room and she sat me down and started to tell me everything.” He swallowed hard. “How she thought it was safer for herself and the child to remain hidden, better that I believed she had been killed…”