Be well,
Elaina
I read and reread her letter a hundred times. There were some water splotches on it and I imagined they could have been from her tears. I couldn’t bear to throw it away but there were many times I nearly did. The dark times when I was so very angry with her for not giving me a chance to tell her anything about what really happened.
No, I didn’t get that from her. I didn’t get the chance to tell her about what I’d been through in the war. I didn’t get the chance to tell her of the new job opportunity I was offered from a fellow officer—who barely made it out of the army still breathing—we were determined to make into a success.
I didn’t get to tell her about the bizarre turn of events that left me the sole inheritor of a Scottish estate belonging to a great uncle I’d never met. There was a house and land involved along with a fair chunk of money, that left me in a very good place financially for the first time in my life. After actually seeing the place, I didn’t get the opportunity to tell her about it, or say how much I knew she’d love the grounds, or the little lake, or the old cherry trees that blossomed on the property, reminding me so much of our trip to Hallborough.
Everything was fucked up an
d my heart was broken.
And, most importantly, I couldn’t tell Elaina that I was definitely not the father of Cora’s baby. I’d been willing to face up to the responsibility of providing for the child if it was mine of course, but it wasn’t mine and Cora shared that with me as soon as her son was born. Whether she was being a decent human being or because it was instantly apparent I couldn’t have fathered him, I don’t know. The point was moot anyway, my loss too great to repair by then.
Cora had up and married the real father before I’d even returned home from my tour. A big Black bloke named Nigel. This was all confirmed when I saw them in the supermarket one day shortly after I got back. The little baby with all the chocolate skin belonged to somebody else. Cute though. I managed a very hollow-sounding ‘congratulations’ and walked out of there, the bitter taste of injustice and anger fueling me forward.
I still desperately longed for Elaina, but the resentment burning inside me at her leaving without a word, had hardened me. So hard that I closed off my emotions and accepted my fate. I’d known bitter disappointment and grief before and I’d lived through it. I was used to accepting things that hurt me terribly and crushed my heart. This was just another one of those.
I threw myself into work at Blackstone Security International, Ltd. as Vice President and Chief of Operations. The boss’s number one. We offered security services to high-profile clientele, politicians, dignitaries, celebrities and even members of the Royal Family on occasion. I traveled around a great deal, learning the business with Blackstone and working jobs that paid me very well, but left little time for socializing. Didn’t matter. I didn’t want society anyway. Any desire I’d ever had for love was in the hands of one unique person and she didn’t want me anymore.
I reached out to Elaina’s mum and asked about her. She told me Elaina was happy at her job in Italy and that she’d requested I not try to contact her. She just wanted the freedom to live her life and held no ill will toward me for whatever had gone wrong with us, but I wasn’t buying it. Of course she had ill will. She felt betrayed that I’d been with Cora. And then I’d had to abandon her for the better part of a year with a horrible fuckin’ break-up between us. The whole situation was worse than fucked.
I stayed close with Elaina’s mum and Ian, hoping for an opportunity where I might see her again, maybe on one of her visits home or something. That maybe, we’d get a chance to talk about what had happened with us. That maybe, seeing each other again would spark something and we could find our way back to that beautiful place where we’d been so in love.
I even grew desperate enough to track her down in Italy once, when I was there working on a job.
****
The Italian seaside in summer is a stunning place. The lush beauty seemed fitting somehow as the place where she was now living and working. Elaina deserved to have all that natural beauty surrounding her. That part made perfect sense to me.
I saw her from a distance on the beach in a sky blue bikini and a floppy black hat. Even from far away I recognized her. How could I ever forget? She looked so beautiful, my eyes stung as I soaked her in. Long cherry-coloured hair blew in the wind and whipped down her back. Lovely legs that went on for miles took small steps in the thick sand in order to accommodate the little ones she brought with her.
Elaina had two small charges, both girls that looked to be close in age, one in each hand and a big straw bag on her shoulder with their supplies for the day. It took everything in me not to rush up and take the bag away so I could carry it for her.
It fucking hurt to stay hidden, lurking in the shadows while she settled all three of them onto the beach. But stay hidden I did. In total agony.
I watched her build sandcastles with the girls until the tide came in and washed over their creations.
Washed away…wiped clean…erased…gone… As if it had never been.
I couldn’t bear to see anymore, and quickly realized it was not a good idea for me to be there stalking her. I felt ashamed for my covert methods and worse than if I’d never seen her again. Seeing Elaina once more with my eyes just made everything so much harder for me. I knew what I had to do.
The time had come for me to finally let her go.
Just as I was taking my last drink of her, she turned in my direction. Elaina turned to me and looked over. She couldn’t see me, I knew because I was well hidden, but she felt me. I know she felt my presence.
I’ll never stop loving you, Cherry Girl. Never. I can’t stop…and I won’t.
In that moment my heart just exploded, and what was left turned into a hardened mass of bits and pieces that weren’t worth very much.
My heart stayed hardened like that for a good while too. It had to in order for me to take my next breath and to function. So I learned to live with myself and got on with it. I didn’t have much of a choice, and in the end, accepting the hand I’d been dealt was easier than bluffing over the shit cards I was holding.
I worked hard, and lived hard, doing those things that a man needs to do to survive, no matter how hollow the aftermath leaves you feeling.
I did the most difficult thing I’d ever had to do in all my life.
I let her go.