His Wounded Light (14 page)

I glance away from the television briefly to watch her as she moves around the kitchen. She’s a very pretty girl—jet black hair and round wide eyes, darker olive skin, long and lean but well built in the right places. Her looks, her demeanor, her mannerisms are nothing like Isabel’s. For one, she’s a jeans and sneakers kind of girl. She loves the outdoors, is fascinated by haunted houses, and teaches belly dancing. She’s a spitfire who doesn’t hesitate to tell it like it is. And maybe that’s what I need. I need a change. Thinking about Rose makes me want to touch her, so I walk over to the kitchen, sneak up behind her and pull her towards me. She’s always so sweet and willing; she immediately turns around to face me, giving me free access to her mouth.

We’re suddenly interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I’m probably the only guy in the world that doesn’t have a ringtone; it’s the standard beeping sound that comes with every cell phone. I don’t know. I’ve always been a no frills kind of guy, I guess. No amount of material success has been able to change that functional side of me. I give her a quick peck on the lips before I pull away to answer it.

“Jesse Cain.” I didn’t get a chance to screen who it was through caller ID.

“Dude. It’s Ryan. Are you home?”

“Just arrived an hour ago from New York. What’s up?”

“Turn your TV on and go to Channel 9 local news. Call me later.” He hangs up before I can even say anything.

I spin around to grab the remote and walk towards the couch while speaking to Rose. “Ryan just told me to turn on the news.”

I miss the beginning of the segment but I see a reporter standing right outside Forbes Memorial Hospital. Okay. I’m not sure how this relates to me. I turn the volume up and then I make the connection.

“We are here on location at Forbes Memorial Hospital, where just an hour ago, Alex Ailey, renowned businessman and owner of Ailey Industries, was rushed after being injured in a serious racing accident. There is still no word on his condition, but minutes ago, a distraught Isabel Amarra-Ailey was seen pulling up to the entrance and running through the doors to be with her husband. Channel 9 has learned that he is currently undergoing emergency surgery. Our crew will remain here to keep you apprised of any updates as the night progresses. From Channel 9 News, this is David White.”

Rose is standing behind me with a kitchen towel in her hands. We both look at each other, not sure what to say.

“Are we ready for dinner?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

She nods her head mechanically and goes back to the kitchen to set the table. I follow her there and we sit down to eat in silence.

“You should probably call or check on her sisters, maybe?” Rose says quietly, her voice showing genuine concern.

“I’ll wait until tomorrow. I’m sure they’re all at the hospital with her now.” Her. In the Cain dictionary, that simply refers to Isabel Amarra, former love of my life.

The night wears on and I don’t think about her for a few hours. That’s important to note, by the way. The fact that I no longer think of her every second. Or the fact that I no longer see her face when I’m having sex. A week without it is a little too long for me, and I couldn’t wait to get Rose in bed to get rid of this dry spell. We did do some sex talking through Skype a few days ago, but everyone knows there’s nothing better than the real thing. Rose is attentive in bed tonight and we expend all that pent up energy from being apart for a week. I tell her that I love her as I come; she looks into my eyes and holds me close, as if she knows that what we saw tonight is going to affect us in some way. I don’t disagree with that thought.

I’m still wide awake at 1:14. The memories in my head have become adrenaline coursing through my veins. The last time I saw her, she looked so happy, so content. I don’t know why, but I’m thinking about her tonight. I glance over to Rose, fast asleep, her hair spread out on the pillow, her lips full and fetching. I digress temporarily to lean over and give her a kiss. She stirs slightly but turns away to get more sleep. I roll out of bed and slowly pad my way out of the bedroom, down the stairway, and into my study. I flip on the light switch and sit at my desk, fighting the urge to call her sisters. I know that it’s my protective instinct that’s kicked in.
It’s got to be that. Nothing else.

There’s a locked drawer in here that no one else knows about but me. In it are things from my past that I haven’t been able to discard just yet. Maybe it’s time to go through them tonight. I reach for the key that I keep inside the middle drawer, finding it among paper clips and letter openers, staples and post-it notes. I open the drawer but I don’t look inside. Instead, I stick my hand in and pull out the first thing that it touches. A watch. A stainless steel Tag Heuer watch. Of all the things I have to find, it is this. Considering what she and I can afford these days, this gift is small in monetary value but its meaning is priceless and invaluable. I remember the anniversary card that came with this gift, saying something about time standing still whenever she was with me. Of course today, we know that was bullshit. Time didn’t stand still. It actually left me way behind—it ran away without me and left me in its dust.

Senior year in college was the year I threw it all away—the love of a beautiful girl who wanted no one in the world but me. In retrospect, I don’t think I ever really got her back after that. She tried to come back to me, but her heart already belonged to someone else.

“She may be okay with all this now, but one day she’s going to tire of waiting around for you,” my father told me one night as I was leaving to attend another party without her.

“Pa, she’ll just get bored at this Student Council get together. She said she would rather hang out with her sisters.”

“Of course she would. You would too, if your boyfriend stuck you with strangers every weekend. You’re taking her for granted, Jesse. And I’m afraid that you’re going to live to regret it. Isabel is hanging on to you now by choice. One day, she’ll realize that she deserves much more.”

I left the house defensive and angry that night. I felt that he was taking sides with her while at the same time instilling too much pressure on me to succeed. I can’t be the person you expect me to be if I spend my time taking care of my girlfriend instead of running for the biggest election of my life. Now can I?

***

“The hottest love has the coldest end.”

—Socrates

I remember thinking to myself, “this is getting old.” Another Saturday night, another party. This time it’s a huge-ass wedding celebration for two of my friends from school. Dinner had just ended and people were already starting to move on to the dance floor. I didn’t have a date that night. Ryan and I decided to stop by a bar to meet some friends after we had some free chow— hence, no need for dates. The poor guy was trying to keep me busy, knowing that I was still in flux over what had happened between me and my girlfriend. My girlfriend. The love of my life. I did really love her, there was no doubt about that. I met her when we were both juniors in high school. It wasn’t part of my plan, but if you saw what I saw the night that I met her, you would’ve fallen head over heels in love with her too. I’ll admit that a large part of it was because she was stunning and sexy as hell. She was a little thing at only 5’2”, but long and lean and very well-developed. Her doe-like eyes were the lightest of hazel browns and her nose and face were exquisite. Her name, Isabel, rolled off my tongue like I was meant to say it over and over again. Her voice was soft and sweet and she laughed with her eyes the way real, genuine people did. She carried herself with so much culture and class, but she wasn’t overbearing or prideful. She was perfect. Years later, she still is.

Perfect and someone else’s.

Although I tried to focus on my goal of really succeeding in college, she was my inspiration for everything I accomplished. The problem is that I never told her that enough. She knew that I loved her, but she loved me so much more. She wanted so much to fit into my world that she gave up her very identity, the crux of who she was, to become a part of my life. And she was. A part of my life, that is. And then selfish ambition got in the way of my charting a future with her. And so she waited. She waited for as long as she could, until the inevitable happened and she fell for someone else. By the time I realized that I had lost her, she was too far gone and reclaiming what we had was no longer possible.

Maps, charts, plans. I’ll be happy for the rest of my life if I never have to mention those words ever again. That ambition totally ruined me—the more I sought success, the farther life pulled her away from me.

That night, we were getting ready to leave the hotel to meet my friends at the bar that I mentioned. The hotel lobby was full of overflows from the wedding in the grand ballroom. People were meandering around, sitting at the surrounding tables, having a drink or chit-chatting with friends. Every square inch of the reception area was full. It was a time when people still smoked indoors in designated smoking areas. Everyone seemed to have a drink and cigarette in hand as they circulated around to socialize.

Ryan and I just walked out of the ballroom, phones to ears. I nodded at him to signal that I was going to use the restroom. Where were they? I walked around in a circle until I realized they were down a corridor that passed right by the elevators to the hotel rooms. It was amazing how many people I recognized on my way there and back. I must have stopped ten times to greet or talk to people. What did this all mean to me when I lost the person that I loved for the sake of recognition? The last stop was right by the elevators, to speak with a girl named Katrina, who was an unwelcome blast from the past.

“Jesse! Jesse Cain!” She was wearing a long pink gown that had rhinestones and diamonds or some shiny stones all over her dress.

“Oh, hi...Kathy.” I slowed down but didn’t stop to engage in conversation.

“Wow! I didn’t expect to see you here! How’ve you been?” She followed me around as I jostled left and right, looking for the sign that might indicate where the washrooms were.

“Fine, thank you. How about you? Were you here for Alice and Oscar’s wedding?”

“They finally got married? No, I’m here for my cousin’s debut on the 2nd floor. What’s new since we last saw each other? I didn’t even know you had already left Boston.”

“When did you come back?” I asked distractedly. I thought I was rid of her permanently.

“I toured the states for another month and took an offer with a different company. And you?”

“I accepted the offer from United Global,” I answered, my attention still centered on relieving my bladder.

“Ah. Hey, I heard about Isabel. I’m sorry, Jesse. You deserve better.”

Restroom sign. There it is. The hallway leading to my refuge from this woman.

“Honestly, I don’t. It was all my fault. What started with you—”

She pressed herself against me and whispered, “Can end with me. I’m still here for you. We can relive that one night we had together in Boston. I can make it amazing for you again.”

She’d better be drunk, because she just cheapened herself like a used rag.

“It wasn’t amazing,” I said, “and it will never happen again. I would say it was nice seeing you, but it really wasn’t. Goodbye, Kathy.” I stormed off and swore off any more detours. I needed to find Ryan so we could get out of there.

Amidst the clutter of noise that invaded my head, a familiar sound overcame my senses. A laugh. More like a giggle. Where did it come from? Was she here? My head darted from side to side, trying to focus on the people around me.

“Christ! Of all people to run into,” I muttered absently as I followed the sweet ringing sound which, sure enough, lead me to her.

They were standing right in front of the elevators, waiting for it to take them somewhere. I was immediately taken aback by the intimacy they shared right in the public eye. She leaned into his body as he held her against him and kissed her, her head tilted sideways to give him full access to her neck. His hands were everywhere on her body, they just couldn’t stay still. They continued with their public display of lust for what seemed like hours until the elevator ding roused them from their stupor. It was when her shoulders stiffened and she slightly pulled back from him that I knew she’d sensed me. Slowly, she turned around to lock eyes with me as he pulled her away towards the elevator. I didn’t release her gaze until the doors had fully closed.