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He swallows hard before a breath of air escapes him and he says, “Let’s talk about that another time. It’s time to hang up so you can take care of yourself.”
After saying goodbye, I place the phone beside me and close my eyes. Brian’s face flashes in my mind with vivid clarity; his kiss still alive on my lips, his rich smell lingers around me as if he’s sitting next to me. My heart drops when I remember how his cold words about children felt like they had sliced through my chest and dug deep into my soul. But his final “thank you for the sex” followed by those three awful words “you’re not enough” made me feel invisible, like a toy being tossed away when its fun has run out.
My eyes fly open and I take in deep gulps of air as I once again grapple with the puzzle of how to put myself back together.
I return to the table and Aris smiles.
“I’m going to miss your company when you leave here,” he says, reaching out to caress my hand. “You remind me of my late wife; she had a similarly warm personality.”
My throat tightens as I ask, “She passed away?”
His smile falters, and he looks away for a moment. “Yes,” he breathes out. “Two years ago. She was painting in the garden when she collapsed.” He pauses for a beat, as if drawing strength from within himself. “She died after having a massive brain hemorrhage… Miss her every day, but knowing she didn’t suffer and that she died doing what she loved helps ease the pain I’ve still got left.” He lets out a long breath. “The memories of our years together are what get me through the rough days... And the painting she made that day is now hanging in my bedroom.”
My throat constricts as tears sting in my eyes. “How long were you two married?” I ask.
A genuine smile spreads across the man’s face. “It was an incredible forty years,” he says fondly. “I met her one day when I was twenty-three. She was painting on the beach and absolutely captivated me from the moment I saw her. There was just something about her that I couldn’t ignore. Then, when I stopped behind her, blocking out the sun, she shot me a glare.” He chuckles. “Well, I stepped aside right away and apologized for interrupting her work. After some convincing, I managed to get her to have a drink with me and... it was like magic. We never separated after that.” His eyes twinkle as he reminisces. “We understood each other so well and we never wanted to change the other person. She was my compass in life. Being around her just made me feel alive and more importantly, safe. It’s really the best feeling you can experience when you find your soulmate.”
He notices the tears rolling down my cheeks and Aris gives me a look of concern.
“Care to fill this old man in on what’s troubling you? I might be able to help,” he suggests. Without hesitation, I tell him all about what brought me here.
“Il dolore è solo amore senza un posto dove andare.”
I glance at Aris. “What does that mean?”
He leans back in his chair and smiles. “It means; grief is just love with nowhere to go. To me, it sounds like this Brian is terrified. He witnessed twice that life can take away the people you love in a blink of an eye, and to prevent himself from more of this pain, his broken heart decided to push away the people he loves.”
“But—”
Aris cuts it. “I know it makes no sense, but a heart in pain can’t think rationally and acts out of pure emotion.”
“Do you still love him?”
My focus goes to my hands as I answer. “Yes.”
An olive skin hand touches mine and when my gaze goes up, I meet his gentle hazelnut eyes that hold so much wisdom.
“It takes a strong heart to love after it has been hurt. And his heart needs time. So my advice, let him grief in his own way.”
The man removes his hand and sits back in his chair. “We all want a piece of paper telling us what to do. But there is no right way to love because no relationship is the same. You and Brian are the only ones who can feel if what you have is worth fighting for or if it’s time to let go and move on.”
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. “Thank you.” He pours me another glass of fresh orange juice and I take a large sip, letting the taste rejuvenate me.
“What makes your heart beat faster? What do you like to do?”
“Fashion,” I answer without a doubt. I smile at the frown on his forehead. “I own a women’s clothing store back at home.”
Right away, the frown disappears and by the time he stands, his lips curve into a massive smile.
“Then I know what you need. I’m bringing you to a place you will love.”
Three hours later, after buying a few items in a drugstore, I’m roaming the racks of an exclusive clothing boutique. I’ve bought different outfits in other stores, but this place sells high deluxe pieces of fashion. A designer dress of fifteen hundred dollars is a bargain here.
My hands touch the multitude of colors and fabrics, and my heart sings as my entrepreneur’s brain spikes. Ideas come to life as I grab a few pieces to admire the lines and details.
“Can I help you, miss?”
I watch as a shop attendant stops beside me as I’m admiring a red dress. “No, thanks, I’m only browsing,” I say politely.
