A dreamer. Was that what I’d been? Or was that just a prettier way to say I’d been willfully ignorant? “Sometimes I think I just lived in a fantasyland,” I said, feeling empty.
Evie gave my hand another squeeze. “No. You saw beauty where others did not. It’s a strength, sweet girl. Not a weakness. Zakai has expressed to us that it was part of what kept his soul alive. You were his dreamer when he forgot how to dream.”
Oh God.
Maybe that was true. But I also had to acknowledge that Zakai had made concessions for me since he was a child. He’d always been a fighter and yet he’d tempered his fight. Because of me. His dreamer. The one who had always clung to safety in lieu of freedom. The one who had chosen comfort over courage. Perhaps loving me for those qualities had kept part of him alive, but perhaps it had caused part of him to die as well. Because he’d fought for me, but he’d stopped fighting for himself.
If I’d been his dreamer when he’d forgotten how to dream, he’d been my champion when I lacked the will to fight.
Our parting had been filled with pain and desperation, and yet, ironically, we’d only learned how to regain the qualities we’d handed over to the other, when we’d found ourselves alone.
The picture was becoming even clearer the more I stepped away. And yet . . . I didn’t want to step away. Not from Zakai. Not from who we’d once been, or who we might be now . . . together.
I’m learning to like the mess. I think it’s the heart of the story.
“I’ve loved him my whole life,” I said sorrowfully. “I never could figure out how to let him go. And now, I don’t think I want to.”
“I relate,” Evie said, a wry smile tilting her lips.
“How do we move past it all?” I asked. Is it even possible?
“I don’t think it’s about moving past it all. I think it’s about learning and growing and finding a way to become better versions of yourself because of, not in spite of, what you experienced. It’s about finding a way to incorporate all your experiences—good and bad. Because you wouldn’t be where you are right this minute if not for each and every step you’ve taken along the way.” She paused. “It’s also a decision to forgive the missteps of the other. A choice. It doesn’t always come easily as there are some things that are extremely difficult to forgive. But there is a freedom of the heart when you’re released from the darkness that unforgiveness creates. A burden that’s lifted. And I think that’s what forgiveness entails: letting go of the hold the hatred or disappointment or hurt has created.” She smiled softly. “So some of us have to fight harder for our happily ever after. But it makes it all the sweeter once you get there, I promise,” she said with such intense conviction in her voice it made my breath stall.
“Thank you so much,” I breathed.
She tilted her head, her eyes filled with kindness. “I have boys,” she said. “I love them dearly, but a surrogate daughter would be wonderful too.” She smiled. “If you ever need anything, you let me know.” Evie stood. “Now I’m going to go pull that husband of mine away from fundraising for a few minutes and make him dance with me. Enjoy the garden for a while,” she said, obviously sensing that I needed a few moments to myself.
I nodded at her gratefully and she turned and headed for the steps.
I breathed in the flower-scented air, finding peace in the surroundings the same way I’d once found serenity on the sun-drenched courtyard on Sundara.
Once upon a time, Zakai had told me we’d do whatever we had to do to endure the time before we were able to, once again, spend every night in each other’s arms. I’d told him that promise would help me hold on until that glorious day, and in some sense—though unacknowledged, even to myself—that’s exactly what I’d been doing.
I loved him.
Still.
I’d never stopped. Not really.
I felt him before I saw him, raising my head, our eyes meeting as he stepped from the bottom step and walked toward me, his lips tipping into a smile.
“I was told I could find you here,” he said. “Evie likes you very much.”
“I like her very much too.”
Zakai put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He met my eyes and electricity sizzled between us. I exhaled a breath. Although the chemistry still existed, a sense of peace ran in tandem. My attraction to this man no longer solely defined me, and the realization somehow—inexplicably—made it feel all the more powerful.
Music began playing from somewhere beyond, filtering out into the garden. Zakai cocked a brow, removing his hands from his pockets and holding one out to me.