Whiskey and Country

21

NICHOLAS

That song. Each word Dahlia sang threatened to flood my face with hot tears. And each word patched wounds of my heart. A moment, my lungs struggled to inflate, and the next, my lips curled, a warm sensation washing my core. The song Derek loved so much felt personal now. As if every chord, every line, spoke to me. And was bearing a secret only I could decipher. As if each inflection of her soothing low voice possessed the power to fix every broken part of me. Of my heart. And my soul.

She lowered the guitar and nestled her body against mine. At that instant, I never wanted to let go of her. To breathe away from her. Something indefinable, stronger than anything I’d experienced before, enveloped us together. Brought us closer. Meshed our past and present, the aching of our hearts, the wisdom of our souls.

Dahlia Ellis and I shared more than our eyes could see. Than our hearts could define. We’d both lost ourselves to grief. In different ways, but similar at the same time. And none of us woke up on the other end unchanged.

The smile she offered me, from over her shoulder, filled me with a mix of joy and hope. Hope that whatever remnants of sorrow lingered in my heart, everything would eventually make sense again. That I would outgrow my feeling of helplessness, which still haunted me once in a while.

My journey since I left home had brought me a new sense of peace. And even if none of it erased the memory of the night I pressed that button, I now believed it had set Derek free. And that he was grateful, watching over me, and guiding me to a life I deserved. A life that would fulfill me.

Dahlia brought her attention to our joined hands and whispered, “Remember the day we met? You told me about your friend who died…”

The atmosphere surrounding us strained, and I struggled with my breathing.

Her words went straight to my heart. Every one of them.

Trusting me with her life story, she opened up to me without restraint. She told me about her own grief. And I tried to talk, I wanted to share, to acknowledge that her words all rang true to me, but mine remained stuck inside. In a crater, where they refused to escape from. A gust of emotions I hadn’t foreseen took my heart hostage, wrapping it with ribbons of painful memories of stealing Derek’s life.

Dahlia’s hands rested on mine, and the simple gesture calmed the throbbing inside me. They shot me with renewed strength. Suffusing me with the certitude I would be okay.

My hands remained on her, the need to touch her, to draw in every particle of courage emanating from her, persistent. My forehead descended to lodge in the curve of her neck, where I felt safe. And accepted.

Our souls fused in the most intimate way as we sat there in silence, comforting each other, healing together.

Still, my words refused to pass my lips.

Sensing my reluctance, the woman, who I was now certain could change my life and I didn’t meet by chance, turned around in my embrace.

Her fingertips played with the strands of my hair, her eyes confirming what her words promised. A safe haven. And understanding. Compassion.

The sincerity in Dahlia’s gaze eased my angst.

The tilt of her lips in the low light of the barn became my sole focus.

All I craved in the moment we shared was to kiss her. To tell her she was right. That everything she said wasn’t in vain. Her words had done more for me than any therapy could. And without knowing it, just being with her was enough to seal the remaining cracks of my heart.

“Thanks,” I murmured. Just one word.

I pulled her to me, and my lips connected with her forehead. Slowly, they descended to her lips, taking everything she offered and promising to give everything back.

Serenity found me. And I wished it’d stay with me forever.

Derek’s Bucket List – 18. Nick: Having a soul-connecting experience