Bloom (2 page)

Ella waited in the hall as a young nurse led me back to a large physical therapy room. She helped me fill out a few papers, then left. A few minutes later my therapist walked in. “Sarah.” A smile lit up his tanned and handsome face. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Koursaris, but you can call me Vasili.”

His accent mixed with his dark and exotic features embarrassed me. Of all therapists? They had to give me a young attractive man. I shook my head.

“I know this is hard, Sarah. It’s painful and lonely and hard. So much time spent sitting in one place with only your thoughts. You’re doing great. It’s going to get better. I promise you.”

“How can you promise that?” I snapped. He barely blinked. Not phased by my outburst. “Sorry, but how can anyone promise that? I’ve lost so much.” I looked down at my bare chest as a tear slid down my gross face. “I look like a monster. My fiancé’s daughter refuses to even look at my face. I’m disgusting to strangers. How? How can you promise that?”

His eyebrows dropped and he cleared his throat.

“Sorry to unload.” I brushed the hair from my eyes. “I just don’t see how you can say that. You don’t know how it feels.”

He nodded, clicked his pen a few times, then looked at me. “How about we begin?”

Half unwilling, I conceded. Since he wasn’t familiar with me yet, we went through the basic exercises first. When our time was up I stared at him, confused.

“Just wanted to get a feel for things,” he said. “We can save the more painful stuff for next time.”

I glanced at his hands. No rings. “Where are you from?” I said. “Obviously not America.”

“Chios.” He smiled. “I’m Greek. Parents came to America when I was ten. My grandparents still live there.”

I smiled. “Well, thanks for putting up with me today. I won’t be so crazy next time.” I stood and looked at the door, then hung my head. “I have to admit, this has been extremely embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Your accent is pretty thick, considering you were ten when you moved.”

“My parents home-schooled me. I didn’t learn English until seventh grade.”

“Wow,” I said, suddenly feeling like a normal person again, having a normal conversation. Except I was ugly and he was gorgeous. And that made it not quite as normal as it could’ve been in the past.

We stared at each other for a few seconds. Not an ounce of flirtation in the moment, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me wish I were pretty again.

“See you in a few days, Sarah.” He held the door as I walked through. Ella stood when she saw me, then she saw him and froze.

We drove to her place in silence and after we settled down inside she finally said, “So, you do realize that you’re still engaged to James, right?”

I sighed. “Ella.”

“What about the physical therapist guy?”

“Call him Vasili. And in case you failed to notice ... he is quite lovely on the eyes and I am, well, look at me. Even if I wanted to burst your little idealistic noggin by ending my engagement for my physical therapist, it’s not gonna happen. What kind of guy would actually want me now?”

“I didn’t realize how shallow you were.” She adjusted Adelaide in the baby wrap. “Since when is love based on perfect bodies?”

I raised my eyebrows. Gavin walked in through the back door, entered the living room, and wrapped his arms around his wife and baby. Bliss. They always seemed so content. Like they never argued at all. So opposite of James and me. I watched them talk about their business, groceries, and Adelaide. Eventually Gavin realized I was in the room and greeted me. He sat on the couch next to Ella.

“We were having a little debate,” I said to Gavin. “Care to weigh in?”

He turned to Ella. “Do I have to?”

She laughed. “Sarah here thinks that men only date perfect women.”

“What? No. That’s not what I mean,” I said. “I’m just saying if James and I end things, which I’m pretty set on doing for his own sake, then I am looking at being single for life. And since I can’t have children anyway I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Doctor hasn’t said you can’t have kids,” Ella said.

“Sarah,” Gavin said. “James loves you. Don’t push him away.”

“I want better for him. For every man.”

Ella stood and sat next to me. “You can’t think so low of yourself just because you have some scars.”

I faked a laugh. “Some scars? Is that what you see? My entire body is altered. This isn’t me anymore. I’m not just an average looking woman, guys. I’m ugly. Do you hear me? Do you even see me? I’m not depressed about my looks. I’m getting used to this new life. But it’s really starting to make me want to flip out when everyone around me pretends I’m still the same old beautiful Sarah. That’s not me anymore.”

Gavin spread his legs and propped his elbows on his knees. “That’s not how we see it. We understand where you’re coming from and I guess we can respect that, but try to see what we see.”

“What? That true beauty is within?” I mocked.

“No,” he said. “That you are still the same old Sarah and if you’re getting uglier it has nothing to do with your skin.”

I stood and took a deep breath. Then exhaled. “Gavin. Ella. You are my best friends. Can you please respect that I want to be left alone for now? Tell Cheyenne and James to let me be until morning. I can take care of myself.”

They both stood.

“Please don’t,” Ella said. “We love you. We’re trying to help.”

“I know. And I agree what Gavin said. I just need time to think about it.”

A tear glistened on Ella’s face.

“None of this.” I wiped her tear. “There are plenty of people who deserve your tears more than I do. I’m okay. It will be okay.”

She sniffed, nodding as I tried to reassure everyone, including myself, that my future didn’t look as dark as it seemed.

Everything would be okay.

It would be okay.

It would.

Right?

I sat at the window as the morning sun crackled through the branches that would soon be covered in shaky red and orange leaves. James and Cheyenne sat on a bench under a low arm of a crepe myrtle tree. Talking. He hung his head and clenched his fists. James expressed pain through frustration, not tears. Cheyenne touched his knee with one hand and pat his back with the other. His fists loosened. He placed his palms on his thighs, inches from her hand. They made eye contact, held it. Not an ounce of jealousy swam through my veins. I watched and waited. His hand inched toward hers. Their fingers desperately wanting to touch. Finally, he leaned toward her. She waited. Lips puckered just so. Slightly open in anticipation. Their fingertips touched and their lips met.

I woke up.

Stared at my ceiling. Turned over and looked at Cheyenne, sleeping in the bed across the room. I couldn’t help but wonder why my dream didn’t feel like a nightmare. I looked at the diamonds sparkling on my nightstand.

I guess I imagined everything to be different. Even my ring. I’m not prone to jealousy. Mostly, I lived a content life. Never wishing for unrealistic futures or anchoring myself to my past. Sometimes though—only sometimes—my best friend made me question my entire existence. Not because of her words or actions. Simply because of who she was made to be.

In public, guys always looked at me. Ella was simple. A classic beauty right out of the 1800’s she so loved. She rarely wore makeup, never revealed her thighs or cleavage, and kept her flirtatious looks for the one she saw across a coffee shop. Her Gavin.

Meanwhile I wrapped myself in fashion and turned heads. It wasn’t my intention and I didn’t genuinely enjoy that kind of attention. In fact, I envied the girl beside me who men didn’t devour with their eyes. Of course I never mentioned it to Ella, but it always bothered me a little that she was so oblivious to the lack of attention she received. The girl is downright beautiful, but she didn’t carry herself in a way that demanded attention. She didn’t care. She was so content in the man she saw at the coffee shop that she didn’t even allow herself to glance at a guy with subtle interest. Meanwhile I turned few hearts and many heads. All the time. It was so normal to me that I didn’t think about it. Until now.

Now, I wished for the simple beauty of my best friend. The kind of beauty that sacrifices for others constantly. The kind that ignores labor pains to comfort a friend. The sweet beauty of a woman who opened her arms and house to others when she was only a newlywed who hadn’t had a chance to form a family with her husband. The kind of pure and gentle beauty that always thinks of others and never herself.

Then, there’s her Gavin. I admit, the day he walked into my art class my heart skipped a few beats. The guy was practically flawless in appearance, had a great clean and stylish presence, and treated everyone with kindness and respect. He was every nice girl’s romantic fantasy. Yet, he never acknowledged girls. No matter now beautiful and kind they were. They were not Ella. And though I didn’t know it at the time ... all those nights I spent dreaming of him ... he was dreaming of his Ella, his love.

My best friend.

I finished my dreadful
morning routine and walked back to the bedroom.

Cheyenne jumped. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” The diamonds shimmered as she set the ring back down. “I was just straightening up.”

I held eye contact with her until her nervous eyes forfeited. Smiling, I sat on the edge of my bed and touched the ring. “You can keep it if you want.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many girls out there are dreaming and longing for what you want to throw away?”

I nodded. “Yes. And I’m more than willing to trade with any of them.”

“I’m serious, Sarah. You always were so beautiful. You always had guys after you. Don’t you ever consider what it could be like for us average girls who don’t have tons of potential spouses waiting in line?” She took a deep breath. “Don’t you ever think about girls who may never be proposed to?”

I shrugged. “Look at me, Cheyenne.” I stood. “Look at me.”

She shook her head. “What?”

“I am not an average girl. I am below average. Kids giggle in the grocery store line and ask their parents if I’m a real monster or wearing a mask.” I picked up the ring. Twirled it between my fingers. “This”—I held it up—“is not so important to me that I’m willing to subject others to misery and difficulty.” I sat down. Out of breath. “I do think of girls who may never be proposed to, because while the door to ‘happily ever after’ is still open for them, still a hope within reach, it’s closed for me. Forever.”

“That’s your choice. He has been by your side since the accident. He’s waiting for you. That’s true love. And you’re spitting in its face.”

“It’s not true love and I’m not spitting in its face.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I found a dandelion. Held on for a while. But as much as I love the wonder of it I know it can’t last in my pocket forever. So, I’m blowing it away so it can find new life.”

“You’re breaking its heart.”

“No. I can’t break what’s already broken. I tried to fix it, but the yellow petals had already vanished. Now it’s over. I can’t be the one to bring him back to life.”

“He loves you.”

“And he will just as easily love another. Someone far better than me.”

“You will regret this.”

“I won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“No man wants a wife like this. He will be happy and that’s enough for me to never regret this choice.”

She shook her head again and dropped her hands to her sides. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

Maybe she was right, but I wasn’t interested in my own good. No one knew James like I did. His tough guy demeanor was only a facade. The real James was a mess. He needed a wife who could breathe joy into his life. Maybe I could’ve been that person, but not anymore. He deserved a beautiful wife. Not a monster. And he deserved someone who didn’t have to battle her own mind to force a smile. He needed someone better. Someone I could never be. And that’s why I refused to slip his ring back on my finger.

Maybe it’s hard to comprehend. I know most people thought I was rude and selfish. But for once I was doing something my best friend would do. Giving up my own desires for someone else. Yes, yes, I know. He wanted to be with me. He did. But sometimes what we want is the complete opposite of what we need, and in my opinion, those who truly love us will help us find what we need ... even at the expense of our desires.

James would fall in love again.

He would.

And I would help him.

Cheyenne found a job
at the hospital in Lancaster City. When she left the next morning I found Ella downstairs nursing Adelaide on the couch. Another wave of jealousy crashed against my heart. I shook it off.

Ella smiled. “Hey, you.”

I sat beside her, ignoring the suckling baby sounds. “I have come to enlist your services.”

“Oh?”

“You are the ultimate Cupid. Can you please help me find someone for James? I need to set it up in a way that makes him feel like it’s not set up.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I know, right?” I exhaled. “Sounds insane, but I’m dead serious.”

She straightened her back. “You’re kidding.”

“Ella, I need your help. Seriously. I need to set him up. He needs to get over me. I’ve tried breaking up with him, but he doesn’t let me. He feels so guilty about everything. It makes him want to stick it out, but it’s not right. He needs someone else. Someone he won’t wake up to every morning for the rest of his life and feel guilty for not putting the fire out when she asked.” I let a few tears fall, wiped them, and continued, “Every day. He will wake up to guilt every day. Trust me, Ella. Please. I need him to fall in love and move on.”

She wiped her face. “I love you.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“I’d die for you, Sarah.”

I nodded. She reached toward me and pulled me into her. My head against her shoulder, her cheek against my forehead, I wept as Adelaide stared up at us. I couldn’t hear over my own sniffling, but I didn’t have to hear or see to know that Ella was crying along with me. Everything I felt, she felt. We were more than best friends. We were sisters.

She really would die for me, and because of that ... I trusted her with my life.