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“Not with you, wife.”
Kieran lifts my hand and kisses my fingertips. Such a sweet gesture. The nerves vanish.
“How was it? Truthfully.”
“Lonely.”
“You’ll never be lonely again. I promise.”
Tears gather in my eyes. He tugs me to his side and kisses my temple. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I preferred to not think of you.”
“Why?”
“I felt guilty, and I couldn’t change a thing. I knew you were safe here. Cameron always kept me up to date, but still... I should have come to visit you. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“I really thought you hated me, blamed me.”
He inhales a sharp breath. “After my father died, I was too busy taking his place at the bank, becoming so powerful no one would ever touch me or my family. That boy without a care in the world became the man that put the fear of God in all others.”
His mouth presses into a thin line, and he massages his temples.
“The things I did, Aurora... At times I wonder how I can even touch you with the same hands that...”
His eyes burn with pain and anguish. I lift them to my mouth and say, “These hands had to do what they had to do, and these hands are good to me.”
Nothing would change the fact that I love him, that his hands are also capable of gentleness, of goodness.
Daniel parks the car and gets out to open the door for me. I force myself to step outside. I thought I’d never come back to this place, but as I take the impressive building in, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s not my home anymore.
Kieran takes a call and I walk down the alley, my fingers grazing the trimmed bushes on each side. Girls giggle and play all around me. I walk inside the washed cream-colored brick building, my steps echoing around me in the hallway. I greet every nun I cross paths with, and share a brief chat. I knock on Sister Theodora’s office, and her smooth authoritative voice, says, “Come in.”
I step inside and she stands up, relief transforming her wrinkled face. In her warm embrace, tears spill. She has been like a mother to me. How could I want to forget anything about this place when she is inside it?
Without the honeymoon, without Kieran and our time spent together, I would have never allowed myself to miss her and this place.
“How are you, my child?”
I raise my finger and say, “Married.”
Worry transforms her face, so I add, “Happily married.”
“Come. Sit, tell me everything.”
I do, and it’s cleansing. She pats my hand as I tell her about my father.
When I am done, she says, “You are a strong young woman, and the goodness of your heart, my dear, will always bring joy and comfort in your life.”
I dab the tears away and she asks, “How is Chiara?”
“Being Chiara.”
She sighs, saying, “I have never worried about you. Even as a child, there was a depth inside of you. I thought you were an old spirit. Always knowing when to pick a fight. Chiara, on the otherhand, is a warrior, a fighter who feels if she stops fighting, she’ll lose herself.”
I worry about her too. My temperamental and fierce friend thinks she has to go to battle with life.
We drink some tea and I ask, “Would you like to meet my husband?”
We go outside and my heart skips a beat when I see Kieran crouched down, helping a little girl tie her shoes.
