“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Take care of yourself, Adriana.”
She nods and moves toward the car. I want so much to embrace her, hold her in my arms since I don’t know when I’ll see her next, but she needs her time, and I can’t push her.
“Bye, Julian. Take care of yourself as well, okay?”
Slowly, her eyes move upward until our gaze locks. Finally, I see inside her soul, understand her pain, her conflict, the battle between her head and heart. The unspoken words between us are greater than any words said out loud. I know this time it’s not my imagination. I’ve learned from my mistakes and forcing her to feel the same way about me isn’t an option.
&nb
sp; Adriana is like a wilted flower, and with the correct love and attention, she’ll blossom again. I may not be that person for her, but one thing I know for sure there is no one else who deserves to find happiness as much as Adriana. She’s a warrior. She experienced love and loss, wearing her battle scars as a reminder that her love can’t be forgotten. Anyone who comes close to that will never replace him.
But a close second is all I can hope for.
The fast bustle of the travelers disguises me as I sit on the row of seats, ticket in one hand and a heavy heart in the other.
Even in the presence of so many people, my loneliness is palpable. Once again, I’m on a journey with myself, willing to discover what makes my heart beat with joy.
This is the right thing to do.
Moving to Australia for six months will be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and one I can’t miss because of mixed emotions. My heart is sobbing like a lovesick fool, but it’s my head waving its flag saying, “Listen to me for once.”
And so, I do.
Adriana deserves better. She deserves a man who’ll love her and Andy unconditionally, together as a whole. And most importantly, she deserves it at the right time, not pushed upon her during her time of grief.
Do I love her?
I feel something, but I’m in denial. You see, Julian Baker has a habit of falling head over heels in love but always to forget.
Adriana doesn’t replace anyone.
She stands on her own.
And I need to walk away to make sure my feelings are justified. Yet, unlike every other time I walked away, usually from a bruised ego, this moment is different.
I feel sick to my stomach. The pain, indescribable, serves a purpose. We’re both forced to rediscover who we are in this game called life. I’m yet to understand why we’re forced through this insurmountable pain to find the so-called rainbow.
The announcement is made for the final boarding call thousands of miles across the ocean. I honestly can’t be going further away from her. I grab my carry-on and join the line. Slowly, like a marching order, we walk, filing into one line.
There’s a family in front of me—father, mother, and two young children. The children are running around the parents much to their frustration. Inside the arms of the mother, she’s carrying what appears to be a newborn child. Even amid the chaos, she rocks the baby with a content smile.
I’m not oblivious to the scene before me, understanding there’s a greater, more unconditional love than between a man and woman. It’s one of a mother and child, a bond so secure nothing in this world can ever break it. With that thought, I make a mental note to call my mom the moment I land just to let her know I have arrived safely.
Suddenly, my focus shifts as I hear my name being called. With the noise of the people around me, plus the speakers making several announcements, I assume it’s my imagination.
Just move on.
My name is called again, it’s getting closer, and as I turn around I see Adriana running toward me, pushing others out of the way until she’s in front of me. She places her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
I pull her aside, worried she’s about to collapse on the spot from a heart attack. Despite her thin frame, she isn’t lying when she claims she’s unfit.
“Adriana? What are you doing here?”
She attempts to talk but is halted by the lack of air in her lungs. “Oh my God, I’m so unfit.”
I let out a laugh. Putting my bag down, I gently say her name again. With her big green eyes, she stares back at me, desperately trying to talk with her eyes rather than her mouth.
“I don’t know what will happen. I can’t make promises. There’s only one thing I’m sure of… I want to live to see Andy grow. And…” she watches me as she speaks, her eyes wide, a mixture of fear and desperation, “… I want to see where we can go. It’ll be hard, I know. My brother, he’ll kill me, but this is my life, and I can’t deny my feelings anymore.”