Breathe You In (23 page)

“You didn’t?”

“No, no of course not. I promise you that,”
I shook my head. “Matt’s dead.” I pointed at the ground. I’d never get used to
saying those words, but I couldn’t change the truth.

Ruben took a step closer, his expression a
mixture of pain and confusion. He held out one hand.

A wave of fear coursed through me. I couldn’t
take rejection again. If I let Ruben get close he might push me away. Might say
what a loopy cow I was and order me never to go near him again. Hell, he could
get me in a whole pile of trouble for hunting him down. There were rules and
laws and ethical issues that should have stopped me.

I turned, faced the twilight sky.

“Katie
—
”

“Ruben, no. I’ve been running low on
emotional strength for years, but right now I’m on empty. Please, if you have
to leave, just leave.”

“I don’t want to leave. I want to
understand this.”

“I’ve explained all that I can. It’s quite
simple really. We met, fell in love, and you happen to have had an organ
transplant from someone I also loved.”

“But don’t you see, that stirs up so many
questions.” He rested his hands on my shoulders, brushed my neck with his thumbs.

I resisted the urge to fall back against
him. He was way too tempting. Everything about him enticed me in. But what if
he stepped away? How would I get up again?

I stared into the distance, consciously
pulling and pushing my breaths in and out of my lungs. “Questions?” I asked
eventually.

“Yes,” he said softly, “if this heart
that’s in me loved you before, then is that why I love you so much now that I
can’t even think straight when I’m not with you?”

“Don’t say it.” I turned, a frantic spin
that knocked me into him. “Don’t say you love me if you’re not going to do
anything with those words.” A lump caught in my throat. “That’s just cruel,
Ruben, and I can’t take anymore pain.”

“Damn it, I don’t want to cause you pain,
but you’ve made this so complicated.” He gripped the top of my arms. “How can I
ever know if you truly love me or if what I’m feeling for you is real?”

“He just brought us together,” I said,
reading the inscription
Matthew Lincoln
Lansdale
on the stone. “Matt just brought us together. That’s how I look at
it. He didn’t want me to be alone, you said that yourself. This is his way, or
fate’s way, of making sure we both have what we need. Each other.”

Ruben was quiet, the line between his
eyebrows deep as my words settled. “Perhaps I can look at it like that?” he
said. “That he brought us together, like this was mapped out in the stars or
something.”

A nugget of hope, when I thought I had
none, sprang to life. “And if you can?”

“And if I can…”

I felt like I was spinning, the disco
lights from earlier bouncing around me. I had to catch them, those lights, they
were my future. All I had left.

He cupped my face in his palms. The
softness was back in his eyes.

Could he really figure out a new way to
understand this? Make peace with what had happened and move on even after he’d
been so angry with me? So confused.

“And if I can and if you’ll have me,” he
said, his lips a whisper from mine “then I want to be with you for all of time.”

“Ruben, I
—
”

“It’s messed up and weird as hell, but I
can’t imagine living without you, Katie, not now.”

He kissed me as a sob bubbled up from my
chest. I clung to him. In a sudden rush happiness blustered beneath me,
whisking me up to my tightrope. I could balance up there again, happily, with
Ruben at my side. This was a good place to be.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “For
being so mad. Really sorry.”

“It was a shock for you.” I grasped his
arms, felt his familiar shape beneath his jacket and breathed in his comforting
scent. “And I’m sorry too, for not telling you.”

“I know you are,” he said. “And it
was
a shock. It still is, but I’ll get
used to it, you have.”

“Yes, for me it’s helped everything make
sense.”

His thumbs stroked over my cheeks; I
hadn’t realized they were so wet with tears. “It just took me a little while,”
he whispered, “to realize that you’re an angel, Katie, an angel who has been
hiding her wings.”

I sank my feet into the warm Caribbean
sand and let it tumble over my toes. The sea breeze lifted my veil, tugging
where the comb fastened it to my hair at the crown of my head. Ruben took both
of my hands in his and smiled down at me.

He looked healthy and gorgeous with his
new tan and wearing a white linen shirt and cream chinos. I could hardly
believe he was going to be my husband in just a few minutes. Those soft, dreamy
eyes of his that understood me so well, that had captured my soul, were going
to be mine to gaze into for all of time.

I glanced at my parents and Trevor and
Veronica
—
our only guests
—
standing on the beach a few feet away. The ladies were in floral
dresses
—
my mother’s a wash of plum-purples and
bruised-berries, Veronica’s a dolly-mixture of pinks, oranges and violets
.
They both
had feathered fascinators in their hair,
similar, because they’d shopped together the week before; two giggling ladies
excited about their trip to Barbados and a wedding. The men wore short-sleeved
shirts and ties, the colors matching their respective spouse with devastating
accuracy, their hair freshly trimmed and their cheeks and chins devoid of any
holiday stubble.

“Katie?” Ruben said.

I squeezed his hands. Smiled. It was
perfect. When Ruben had proposed to me three months ago, he’d said he wanted me
to make new wedding day memories and we could do it however I wanted.

Saying our vows on a beach seemed the
perfect way to bless our union. Instead of roses I had orchids, instead of a
churchyard our photographs would have the ocean as the backdrop. This was my
wedding to Ruben. It went into a different folder to my wedding to Matt. Not
better, not worse, just different.

And I loved Ruben every bit as much as I’d
loved Matt. My heart was full of it, swollen with it. Every cell in my body was
tuned into being with him. My good fortune to find the grand but humble emotion
of love again was not lost on me. Not one bit. I would be eternally grateful.

“Are you ready?” the officiator asked.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Absolutely.”

The short ceremony began. I only stumbled
a little, on ‘until death do us part’ but Ruben had pre-empted this and
smoothed his thumbs over the inside of my wrists, letting me know he was there,
that he understood this bit was hard. Not just because I’d lost Matt but
because he’d always have to take that extra bit of care of himself too.

Ruben slipped a white gold ring onto my
finger, saying solemnly what it meant. My balance quavered, but in a good way,
in a way that made me want to throw my arms around him and tell him how happy
his words made me. That kind of wobble I could live with, it was light and feathery,
made me want to fly.

I slid a thicker, matching band onto his
finger, loving the symbolism and the fact it made him mine, that it tied us
together.

As a wave burst and its skittering, frothy
edge nearly reached us, Ruben was told to kiss his bride.

He gathered me close, fitting my body into
his and took possession of my mouth. I melted against him. Nothing I could say
could express my happiness, actions the only thing that could come anywhere
near to doing the enormous bouncing ball of joy justice.

Another sweep of breeze tickled over us,
pressing my long white silky dress to my legs and curling my veil around our
faces. I pushed it back, laughing, and saw exhilaration and love in Ruben’s
eyes as he released me.

I turned to our parents.

There was a rush of congratulations and
kisses, hugs and slaps on the back. Everyone was smiling, both mothers had
moist eyes and they each held damp tissues.

“I’m so happy for you,” Veronica said,
squeezing me close. “You and Ruben couldn’t be more perfect for one another.”

“I agree,” I said, embracing her.

“You gave him a future we never thought
he’d have. For that I’m so indebted, Katie.”

I pulled back, studied her face. Ruben and
I hadn’t told anyone, not a soul, that he had Matt’s heart. But had he told his
mother in a quiet moment?

“Maybe one day even a future with children,”
she said, cupping my cheek.

I looked into her eyes, trying to see if
there was some other knowledge there. I couldn’t be sure.

She smiled. “You’ll have beautiful babies,
Katie, you really are the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.” She hugged me again.

If she did know anything I wasn’t about to
question it, not today, and probably not ever. My history had found a place to
settle, a place where it could wait until the days I chose to bring it out and
visit it. Finally the past had moved from my present back to where it belonged.

“Come on,” Ruben said, reaching for my
hand. “Time for the wedding feast.”

I laughed, scooped up the hem of my dress
and walked behind him, sinking my feet into the sand and puffing up little grainy
clouds behind me. “You’ve been looking forward to this bit, haven’t you?”

“You know I have, the menu looks
delicious.” He released my hand, pulled me close and pressed his mouth to my
ear. “Plus I have to keep my strength up for my wedding night.”

We dined on flying fish and
cou
cou
, roast pork with diamond
crackling, chicken stuffed with spiced rice and yams, sweet potato and pumpkin.
More food than we needed and all vibrant, fresh and delicious.

We were seated within a thatched cabana,
still close to the waves, the Caribbean winds kept us from overheating and the
cocktails kept our thirst at bay. I couldn’t stop touching Ruben—even
when eating I still needed that physical contact.

It seemed he did, too, and every few
minutes he stroked my cheek, my shoulder, or my thigh beneath the table.
Whenever I looked at him, he was looking at me.

Our parents had hit it off from the first
time they’d met,
the men sharing a
common interest in golf and our mothers shopping. Mine had been floored by my
grief and hadn’t known how to help me. But then who could? I’d folded into my
shroud of misery. It had taken Ruben coming under with me to tempt me out that had
persuaded me to stop wearing it.

My parents
—
seeing me happy again, no longer a shadow of myself, but Katie,
their daughter who laughed and joked
—
had an
extra lining to their happiness today. I knew they had, they’d told me so.

Eventually the sun started to set. The
chocolate icebox pudding and lemon meringues we’d indulged in had been cleared
away, and shadows from the nearby palm trees sent thin-finger shadows
elongating over the table.

“Right,” Trevor said, plucking four strips
of paper from his wallet. “I think it’s time to leave these lovebirds to it and
go and see the limbo dancing.”

“What?” I said with a laugh. “Limbo
dancing?”

“Yes,” he said. “Four tickets for Fire Limbo
Extraordinaire.” He read the wording on the tickets. “Prepare to be dazzled,
stunned and heated up to boiling point by men and women who can move to the
groove and get down to the ground.”

My mother giggled and nudged Veronica.
“Sounds fun. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a cultural experience.”
Veronica nodded, her eyes wide and looking a little unsure.

I caught my dad’s gaze and grinned. His
cheeks had flushed with the cocktails, and he looked more content than I’d seen
him in a long time.

“Are you two coming?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Ruben said quickly. “We have a
romantic stroll along the beach planned for our first evening as man and wife.”

“That sounds lovely,” my mother said,
placing her napkin on the table and standing. “And you couldn’t have chosen a
nicer spot to enjoy a walk in.”

“It is stunning, isn’t it,” I said,
looking at the near deserted beach that stretched into the distance.

Hues of gold and amber created a magical
glow, and the ocean was turning deep blackcurrant. The sand was lined with a
scramble of foliage; ferns, palms and huge cerise flowers I didn’t know the
name of. The outline of a tumbling mountain, also a mass of greenery, paraded
into the sea as though guarding our hotel resort.

After more hugs, plans to meet for lunch
the next day in the hotel’s rooftop café, and Trevor’s excited rush to head off
to see the limbo dancing, Ruben and I walked to the water’s edge.

He rested his hand on my shoulder, and I
slipped my arm around his waist. I lifted my dress just high enough so the salty
water didn’t catch the hem.