Angel Falls

“Oh, Julian …” She said his name on a sigh of disappointment, a sound more intimate and knowing than any kiss they ever shared.

“If I walked through those doors, it would be a lie. We both know that. I don’t want to do to Jacey what I did to you. ”

She looked at him and tried to smile.

It broke his heart, that soft realization in her beautiful eyes. “Tell me you’ll always love me,” he whispered.

She touched his cheek. In the coldness, her touch was a brand that burned his flesh. “I’ll always love who we were. ”

He felt and heard the continent that lay between his question and her answer. He knew as certainly as he’d ever known anything that this time he would miss her forever. When his fans had died and the women no longer followed him, he would sit in a leather chair in his lonely house and dream of this woman who had once and truly loved him.

He reached down for her left hand. The plain gold band glittered in the pale glow of the limo’s headlights. “Do you still have the wedding ring I gave you?”

“Of course. ”

“Give it to Jacey. Tell her …”

“What, Jules?”

“Tell her that out here, somewhere, is a man who wishes he were different. ”

“Be different, Jules. Come in with me. You know Liam, he’ll make a place for you. ”

“Liam’s not the problem. I wish …” He couldn’t say it.

“What do you wish?”

Somewhere a branch snapped in the breeze, and it sounded dangerously like the breaking of his own brittle heart. “I wish I could love you the way he does. ”

He didn’t want her to answer, so he pulled her into his arms and kissed her for the last time. “Goodbye … Mikaela. ”

She turned away from him and limped through the snow. One last time, she stopped at looked at him. “Good-bye, Julian True. ” It was spoken so softly, he wondered later if he’d imagined it.

The house smelled of evergreen boughs and baking apple pie, of hollyberry candles and a newly stoked fire. Mikaela paused in the doorway, breathing in the welcoming scent of home. She could see her mother in the kitchen, alone, wiping down the tile countertops. Rose looked up suddenly. Mikaela pressed a finger to her lips and moved silently forward. As she passed the living room, she saw Liam sitting at the piano. Last year’s Sasquatch costume lay heaped on the floor by his feet.

“Where are the kids?” Mike whispered to her mother.

Rosa pointed upstairs. “They are cleaning their bedrooms for you. ”

Mike nodded. She could imagine how their bedrooms must look. No doubt Bret had at least a thousand chewy-bar wrappers strung across his desk. He’d probably talked Rosa into buying him Twinkies and Ding Dongs. “Keep them busy for a few minutes, will you?”

“Si. ” Rosa started to turn away.

Mikaela touched her mother’s arm. “Gracias, Mama. For everything. ”

“De nada, mi hija. ” With a quick smile, Rosa headed out of the kitchen and hurried upstairs.

Mikaela took a deep breath. It disconcerted her to see Liam at the piano, with his hands in his lap. She’d missed his music. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much a part of her it had become. Every moment and memory in her life seemed to be accompanied by some piece of music drawn from her husband’s heart.

She tiptoed into the living room. A brightly lit Christmas tree stood in the corner, a thousand sparkling lights reflected in the black picture window. It was the first year ever that she hadn’t chosen the tree and directed the placement of each ornament; it saddened her, this evidence that somehow her family had … gone on.

When she was directly behind Liam, she paused and closed her eyes. Please, God, don’t let it be too late.

“Liam?”

He spun around so fast his knees cracked into the piano bench. When he saw her, he frowned, running a hand through his too-long hair. “You should be at the hospital,” he said, looking awkward and uncertain.

“Tell me it’s not too late. ”