Eastern Lights (Compass 2)

“Well, I was on a quest to try to find my son, but I just got word that he’s taking a mini-vacation to France for a while.” She frowned as she looked down at her hands and fiddled with her fingers. When she looked up, tears were flooding her eyes. “Oh, Aaliyah. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.” She covered her mouth and broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

It was an instant reaction of mine as I wrapped my arms around her. There I was, standing in the lobby, comforting the mother of the man who’d left me on my wedding day. I couldn’t help it; seeing anyone falling apart made me want to comfort them.

“He loves you, Aaliyah. I know he does,” she said, pulling away a bit. “Do you think you and I can have a word upstairs?”

I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face a conversation with Jason’s mother. I wasn’t even ready to face myself and my heartache.

Before I could reply, Marie seemed to read the words I wasn’t able to express. “It’s fine, really. I’m sorry. I’ll give you your space. I want you to know you deserved more than what my son did to you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were something special,” she said.

“Thank you, Marie.”

“I know this sounds crazy, but do you think…” She sniffled, pulled out a tissue from her purse, and wiped her eyes. “Do you think you and I can stay in touch? Maybe still get coffee with one another? I know it sounds selfish, but in a way, I feel as if you are a part of my world.”

I felt the same way, yet the idea of seeing her any time soon seemed a bit too daunting a task. “I think I just need time, Marie. Honestly, this is all a lot to come to terms with. My mind is still spinning.”

“I understand, sweetheart. I won’t take any more of your time but do know you’re welcome to stay at this apartment as long as you need. I’ll make sure to keep Jason away to give you the time you need to move into a new place. But, I hope you know what my son did to you was cruel, and I do apologize for all the hurt he has caused you.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Marie. You aren’t your son’s mistakes.”

Now it was her turn to release an anxious chuckle. “You could tell a parent that a million times, and we’d still never believe you.” She pulled me into a hug and held me so tight. I melted into her hug. I hadn’t known how much I needed that—for someone to hold me. “You are the daughter I always wanted,” she whispered, stirring up my own emotions.

She turned to walk away and paused as she held the door open for a moment before she looked back my way. “Just so it’s clear, Aaliyah, you were always the catch in your relationship, not the other way around. My son was never good enough for you. You were the prize.” She smiled and walked away, leaving me there with a set of nerves I wasn’t sure how to work through.

I took the elevator to the penthouse and felt a sense of emptiness once I stepped foot inside. I hadn’t lived within those walls for long, but somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself I’d achieve my happily ever after there. Sometimes fairy-tale endings are only for the storybooks.

Everything was exactly as it had always been in the penthouse, except a little different. All the components of the house felt a little less like mine. I walked into the bedroom and noticed some of Jason’s clothing was missing from the closets. He really had left me, and he wasn’t going to come back.

I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I wasn’t sure how to move forward with life. I had nothing to my name—no husband, no job, no home. I’d given all of that up to be with a man who’d left me on our wedding day.

I lay down on the bed that morning, feeling everything but love. I hated the discomfort I felt in that home. I hated the way the walls echoed to me that I didn’t belong there. I hated how my skin crawled with the idea that any moment now, Jason could show up and remind me of how much I didn’t belong.

So, I stood up from the bed, and went to the only place where I felt less alone.

Every Sunday morning, I spoke to dead people. Well, not dead people—just one. It had become a tradition to visit Grant’s grave and talk to him about life, about the ups and downs of my world. I’d read him comic books, and we’d watch the sun rise with one another. That morning, I’d missed the sunrise with him, but still, I felt his comfort.