His Wounded Light (26 page)

“Where are we going now, Mom?” In the past few weeks, Eddie has started calling me Mom instead of Mommy. I know it’s his way of telling me that he’s now the man of my family.

“Well, we can have lunch somewhere and then I’m going to drop you off at Aunt Ali’s. I have an appointment with Dad’s doctor in the afternoon. This is your weekend with him, remember?”

Maddy’s “choice” simply means that we go to her favorite place, McDonalds. They’re giving away My Little Pony dolls with their Happy Meals and so we buy three of them so she gets one in every color that’s offered. Eddie chows down on his Big Mac while I have a coffee. We eat inside for a few minutes, take Maddy to the play area, and then head on to Ali’s to drop them both off.

By the time I arrive at my apartment, I have a few minutes left before my appointment with the doctor. I purchased a three bedroom, three bathroom place on the outskirts of the city, a few miles away from the exclusive neighborhood where Alex and I once lived. I wanted to keep some distance between my new life and the old one. I figured that this would be a temporary solution while I decide what to do with my life. This place has just too many memories but taking the children to another country away from him will only serve as a detriment towards the normalcy of their lives.

I straighten up the pillows on the sofa and brew some coffee in the kitchen. Our new home is artistically done—it reminds me of the place that we had in Hong Kong—sparse, but modern and chic. And empty. I left all my antique vases and paintings from Paris at the old house. When I walked away from that life, I walked away from everything in it. Next to a picture of Eddie and Maddy is a collage of ultrasound pictures of Sophie. Barbara knew me well enough to take tasteful pictures of my daughter before we laid her to rest. She looks like she’s sleeping and her rosebud lips are curved up in a smile. I look at those pictures several times a day to remind me that life was good once, before he stopped loving me. My mind plays tricks on me at times and I need to be slapped back into the harsh truth that is his blatant rejection of me.

The doorbell rings at exactly 2:00 pm. I open the door to find the beautiful and statuesque Amanda, but she has also brought Dale with her. I kiss them both on the cheek and urge them to come inside. “Please have a seat while I get you some coffee and pastries.”

I busy myself around the kitchen, opening up the tray of sweets that we bought on the way home from the cemetery. “You have a beautiful place here, Isabel,” Amanda observes.

“Thank you. I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks, so it doesn’t feel like home yet.” I catch myself when I say that. I don’t want their sympathy. I don’t need their compassion.

I take the tray into the living room and sit on the armchair adjacent to Dale and Amanda. “Thank you for reaching out to me. I am wondering what it is you would like to speak to me about.”

Dale begins the conversation. “As his wife, we thought we should give you an update on his condition.”

“I’m no longer his wife. We’re divorced.”

“Isa,” Dale cuts in, “whatever it is that the two of you are ironing out right now, I know you care about him and you’d like to know how he is.”

“I do,” I acquiesce.

“Physically, he’s doing phenomenally well. His physical therapy was delayed for six weeks, as you know. But he started out doing them twice a day two weeks ago and he’s determined to get better. Yesterday, he regained a little bit more feeling in his right leg.”

“That’s wonderful,” I say.
I had to give up my daughter for him to work on himself. This is just great. I really don’t want to hear any more of this.

“Psychologically and emotionally, he’s not doing as well,” Amanda pipes in. “All he wants to do is to see you. He keeps on talking about how he thought that driving you away would give you a better chance at happiness.”

“I told him numerous times that that wasn’t true, and I’m done defending it. I’m done begging him. I lost my daughter to his selfishness.” The word “lost” hits me with a punch. I get up and excuse myself and stay in my bedroom for five minutes to regain my composure. I return to find them sitting motionless, right where I left them, and calmly sit down. “I’m sorry. Everything is just so difficult for me to digest right now. But I’m so glad to hear that he’s making progress. Please wish him the best for me.”

Dale smiles warmly. “He has spoken to us about the night you both tried to have sex. He was very embarrassed about that incident. He says that he made his decision to divorce you shortly after that. Isa, you know that sex is a big deal to Alex. You have to understand how devastating it is for him to have to accept the possibility of never being able to consummate with you.”

So Dale and Amanda now know about our most intimate moments. Phenomenal.

“Isa,” Amanda continues, “what Alex did to you was unacceptable. I’m not here to justify it, nor condone it. I’m simply telling you what his current situation is, what his thought process has been like. I will continue to see him weekly so that he’s able to sift through these feelings. I want you to know that he has asked for my help in figuring out his issues with the end goal of proving his love to you.”

I can’t help myself. “How exactly do you console him during these weekly visits? Are you still in love with him, Amanda?”

Her flinty eyes glare at me and her tone is cold and angry. “That was totally out of line and I refuse to dignify it with an answer.”

“Isa, please.” Dale moves over to me to take my hand.

“You’re right, Amanda. I’m very sorry for what I said.” I stand up as a sign that I want them to leave. “Please accept my apologies. Thank you both for taking care of him so well. He needs you all now more than ever.”

Dale’s eyes are sad. “As a friend, Isabel, I’m asking you to please seek help and speak to someone. Nothing good will come out of your keeping your feelings bottled up inside. The trauma of losing a child can lead to serious psychological repercussions. You need to get better for Eddie and Maddy.”

“I’ll be fine. The children are fine. I’m taking care of them. I just need some time.”

“Please don’t give up on him. Alex loves you.” He leans over to give me a hug.

Amanda and I kiss each other on both cheeks. I don’t react to their last statement.

And then, they’re gone.

***

“There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth…not going all the way and not starting.”

—Buddha

We’re sitting by the water watching Maddy splash around, both Eddie and I. It’s another ordinary Saturday afternoon and we just got back from spending the morning with Sophie. We visit her often, at least once every two weeks. I’m sure that makes my mom very happy, because that means we see her too. The weather is slowly getting cooler, but the warm rays of the sun still allow us these days by the pool. Eddie and Maddy are spending the night with Alex’s parents. They have been so kind and loving towards me; I really can’t complain. I haven’t seen him for almost two months, but there are stark reminders of him everywhere I look. My bank account keeps getting funded even if I have repeatedly rejected the deposits to my account. The children’s tuition and activity fees are paid in full for the year. He sends them home with clothes and shoes and everything they need. He texts me every so often knowing that I won’t answer. Eddie updates me with stories about his physical therapy sessions and how he can do wheelies on the wheelchair. I miss him, but I miss him the same way that I miss Sophie and my mother. I miss him as if he’s nothing but a memory of a past life long since over. The road to acceptance is long and arduous. There are twists and turns along the way, wearing me down and causing me to lose hope. No one emerges from a wreckage unscathed; they are my scars from an otherwise blessed life.

Anthony arrives at six o’clock on the nose. We stand in the living room as Emmy is getting all their bags together, shifting our feet uncomfortably, waiting for the other one to speak first.

“How’ve you been, Isa?” Tony asks, stretching out his arm to affectionately touch my shoulder.

“Really good, Tony. And you? Thank you for coming for the children, by the way.”

“Mom wants to know if you want to have dinner at the house next weekend. She’s really missing you.”

“Please tell her I would love to see her again. I’ll call to confirm sometime during the week.”

Maddy is pulling at my skirt. She’s ready to go. I bend down to pick her up and I hold her close to me while she plants little kisses all over my face. Eddie gives me a half hug and kisses me on my head. Twelve years old and so much taller than me.

“I’ll miss you, babies. Have fun with Grandma and Grandpa.” I stand by the doorway and watch them disappear into the elevator.

Two hours later, I’m relaxing by the picture window reading a book in my pajamas. The apartment is quiet. I’ve given both Emmy and the cook the weekend off as a way of confronting my apprehension about being alone. Loneliness has nothing to do with how many friends you have, how many people love you or how many bright and shiny things you can afford. You can be surrounded by everything you want in your life and still be the saddest person in the world. Despite all the love and support that I have from my family, I feel deserted. I’m abandoned. Their consoling words, their heartfelt touch, their bereaved tears. They don’t do a thing for me; they do nothing to stop me from breaking.

My phone rings and I’m only a little bitter that it breaks the silence.

“Hi, Eves.”

“Guess who’s playing at Strums tonight?”

“Who?”

“Our favorite band!”

“No. Really?”

“Yes! And guess who’s got tickets?”

“Eves. It’s after nine, I’m already getting ready for bed.”

“You’re playing Sudoku and drinking hot tea again. I know your weekend routine. You need to get out of your pajamas and get over here. I’ll see you at ten.”

I find her sitting a table right in front of the stage at 10:15 and cut to the chase, wondering what she’s doing here, and alone.

“Where’s Winston?”

“Business trip. These tickets are a gift from a friend of his.”

The music bar is packed since it’s a Saturday night. All of the tables are full and there are people standing all the way in the back as well as on the sidelines. It’s smoky and loud and dark but I have to admit, the band is playing really awesome music.

“I ordered you your favorite,” Evie says as the waiter delivers us our drinks.

I take a sip of the Tanqueray and cranberry; it’s as wonderful as I remembered. “Thank you for convincing me to come. I’m having fun,” I admit, smiling at Evie as we take the final swigs of our drinks and she motions the waiter to bring two more.

The music is really getting underway and people are now standing up and dancing. Evie has always been a party girl and so it’s no surprise that she’s up and about, socializing and talking to friends that she knows from our circle. I’m left sitting alone at the table for a few minutes. But not for long. I feel a slight tap on my shoulder and find a tall, dark-haired stranger standing right behind me.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” he asks. I like that he looks nervous and unsure. He looks young, maybe a few years younger than me, with slightly longer, trendily messy hair and light hazel colored eyes.

Well, they’re not blue.

“My sister is sitting there but I don’t know where she is!” I laugh nervously.

“That’s okay, here, let me grab another one.” He struts over to the table next to him, charms the two ladies falling all over him and walks back toward me effortlessly carrying a chair under his arm. He plops it down right next to me and sits before he signals the waiter and orders two more drinks for us.

“I’m Lucas.” He extends his hand and offers it to me.

“Isabel.”

Evie sees this exchange before I can say more and walks back to our table.

“This is my sister Evie. Eves, this is Lucas.”

Evie shakes his hand and leans into my ear. “Winston took a late night flight home,” she whispers. “He’s waiting outside for me. Sorry. I have to take you home now.”

“Oh. Well, why don’t you go ahead, I’ll call for the car when I’m ready to leave? I’ll stay for a few more minutes to finish my drink.”