To Catch a Falling Star (42 page)

Without Mel, I’m half a human. There is nothing that can erase her mark on me. No drug in this or any other world can eradicate the joy of connecting with her on a soul-to-soul level. I continue to drive us into a world of feeling, into a world of texture and pleasure, and into a world of love and surrender.

I feel vulnerable and the spontaneity of the feeling makes me stronger than I ever felt. Mel gives and demands when we make love. My chest is too small to fit the immensity of the vast feelings I have for the woman moaning under me. She puts her arms and legs around me. She screams her pleasure loudly. Her ragged breath comes into sharp and quick breaths. Her chest rises and falls rapidly.

“That’s right, Melody, come for me.” I follow her to the world of colorful and deep emotions.

We lay on the bed wasted and limp. After a few minutes, a soft sigh leaves Mel’s mouth. I wonder if she is sleeping. I’m exhausted from the long day, the pressure of performing in front of Mel, and the tension of Mel finding out about the baby.

“You need shaving, badly,” Mel whispers.

“I thought you were sleeping, love.”

“No,” she says with a sigh. “Shower with me. I’ll shave you.”

I follow her to the bathroom. Mel is eerily quiet. She sets the water to a scalding temperature. She steps under the water and invites me in.

Mel’s eyes lazily travel across my body. “Don’t stop working out, your body looks amazing,” she says. Her face crumples with emotions. It’s scary as hell.

It’s my time to remain silent. Fear grips my heart.

Mel gets the soap and slowly strokes her small soft hands along my chest. “The first time I saw your chest naked, I had butterflies in my stomach.” She chuckles softly. “At the time you seemed so unattainable. I’m still in awe at how you took interest in me.” Her hand continues in a sweet caress spreading soap over my body. I’m hard as fuck again. I try talking down to my cock, but Mel’s eyes, touch, and scent are too much for my senses. It overloads my hormones. Reverently, she soaps my very alert shaft, stroking lightly. “You are so beautiful, Tarry.”

I can’t take my eyes off her. She steps back allowing water to wash away the bubbles from my skin. I wish my fear could also go down the drain.

Mel leans in and her tongue lightly strokes my nipple. A strong twinge goes up my dick.

Without acknowledging my desire, Mel spreads shaving cream over my face. She strokes the razor across my whiskers, slowly and reverently.

“I love shaving you,” she says with a sad smile.

The swishing sound of the blade reaches deep into a place in my heart, uninhabitable until recently. I’m still, but not for fear of a nip. Her grooming me is an out-of-body experience. It demands reverence. Each time she shaves me, I reach a new nirvana. I attain a new peak of ecstasy only to fall into a bottomless sea of tranquility. The shaving is only second to burying myself deep inside her. Performing or taking drugs are nothing in comparison.

When she finishes, she hands me the soap. “Your turn.” She smiles.

I repeat the lathering process on her sculptured body, washing every nook and cranny.

After I finish, I carry her back to bed and claim her. This time, I go slowly, taking the time to worship her body properly. Mel’s erotic moans and groans form a mind-blowing symphony. Mesmerized, I watch every detail of her gorgeous face as she comes.

Sated, I lie on my back, pull Mel to my chest, and whisper. “I love you more than anything or anyone.”

“I know you do, baby,” she whispers. I hear in her voice that she is crying.

“Mel, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, Tarry. But you know, I can’t do this,” she whimpers. “I can’t,” she repeats.

“Mel, we’ll figure this out. Talk to me.”

“I’m many things, Tarry. But there are two things in which I take pride. I’m not selfish and I’m a woman of character.”

“Mel, we aren’t doing anything wrong. Nola and I are over. After being with you, I can never be with anyone else.”

“I raise a fatherless child, Tarry. I’ll never forgive myself for being so selfish to take you away from your child.”

“Mel, this child might not even be mine,” I plea.

“And it might be. If we are meant to be, fate will find a way to get us back together.”

“Fuck fate, Mel. It’s never done anything for me. Mel, you are the reason I pulled myself together, I can’t go on without you. I really can’t.”

“I’m not your crutch, Tarry. Besides, Nola and this child need you.”

I’m silent. I realize that no matter what I say, Mel will not go back on her decision.

“Do you love me, Tarry?” she asks.

“Of course. I love you more than I love myself.”

“Can you do something for me?” she whispers.

“Anything, Melody.”

“When I wake up, I want you gone.”

Her words fall with the finality of a guillotine. My fragile world shatters. Tears flood my eyes. I want to scream, punch a wall, stuff sense inside her pretty and stubborn skull. To say something would be useless, so I remain silent. However, I will comply with her request. I’m incapable of denying anything to the woman inside my arms.

“I have one vivid and constant memory of my grandfather,” I finally say and I tighten my hold of her. “He was madly in love with my granny.” I kiss her hair. “He told me once that some humans are more animal than others. He told me, he and Granny were like eagles—bald eagles mate for life, Mel. I guess I understand Grandpa now.”

I wonder if there is a life without her. I’m repulsed by the thought. I wonder if there are drugs strong enough to dull the pain of her absence. But, surprisingly, I don’t want to get high. I don’t want to erase Mel. I welcome the pain if that’s the only part of her I get to keep.

“I love you, I always will.”

“I love you too, Tarry.”

Mel sleeps inside my arms. I hold her tight. I’m attuned to every sound, every movement. In her dreams, she whispers my name. I sigh. Mel deserves so much better. And she will have someone worthy of her. I’ll make sure of that.

After hours of vigil, the bedside clock tells me it’s five o’clock. I need to leave. I kiss Mel one last time. “I love you,” I whisper.

From the closet, I retrieve one of Tim’s old sweats. After I dress, I stop by the kitchen and grab the painted poster by the windowsill. Then, I do the most difficult thing I’ve done in my life. I walk away.

I call a limo and give directions to the driver, then I walk to the cemetery.

A dense fog merges with the cold earth, which makes it difficult to find Tim’s grave. But when I find it, I sit by the flat headstone. I ponder about my reasons for leaving Mel.

I have spent my entire life passively. Today I have a deep need to fight for Mel. But to do so, I must walk away. Mel is the most honorable person I’ve ever met. She will not back away from her position. I have to find a way for her to accept that life is a bitch. Sometimes we choose the most reasonable option from a bunch of shitty choices. Even when is not a fairy tale ending. Hell, I might need a miracle.

I’m heartbroken. I’m shattered. My body feels more decayed than the underground habitants of this cemetery. However, I’ll not condemn Mel to a guilt-ridden life. I love her too much. She deserves better.

“Hey, Tim, I’m Tarry. This might feel weird to you, considering that you were married to Mel and all, but trust me, it is weirder for me to be talking to a dead dude.” I pause, but there is no answer. I proceed. “I love Mel to the point of madness. But shit has happened and now I’ve lost her. The truth is I can’t live without her. I can survive with the hope of getting her back, but beyond that, I have no reason to go on. I don’t know what to do, man. If you’re in heaven as Mel says you’re, I hope you can hear me, and put in a good word or two on my behalf.”

I wait for a moment. No response. What am I expecting—trumpets, angels, or a personification of Tim?

The limo arrives. I turn to the grave and make my last appeal. “If you help me, I promise to take good care of her and I promise to raise Ella as if she was my own flesh and blood.” I know I sound desperate. But I am. “Please.”

Knowing silence will follow my plea I turn and leave. I go to my second stop.

SITTING IN THE living room across from Dan, I tap my fingers on my thigh. I just confessed to him about my relationship with Mel, my intentions with her, the news about the baby, and, of course, Mel’s reaction. Now a dead silence follows. Shit, silence follows me everywhere.

“Youth is fascinating,” Dan finally says. Whatever he means by that, I’m about to find out. That’s how Dan is. There is always a lesson, a deeper meaning to everything. Though the funny thing is that most times, okay, all the time, he is correct.

“When we are young, we think the world revolves around our lives. And in a way it does. A giant flaw of youth is to underestimate older generations, thinking you get away with lies and deceits.” He pauses. There is no anger in his eyes. But they’re not friendly either.

“From the first time I saw you looking at each other, I saw the zing. Mel was married and in love, but nevertheless there was a connection. Then fate reunited you. Why do you think I returned early from Colombia, Tarry? I heard you were coming, that you needed of therapy, and I heard Mel was going to be interacting with you.” He is serious. The ever-present grin is absent. “That Sunday when we returned from the hike, I saw the way you looked at Mel, son.”

“You’re saying you knew we were together?”

“Of course I knew, son. Mel is my little girl. No one gets near her if I don’t approve of him first.”

“But you never said anything, you never… Wait, you’re saying you approve of me?”

“No.”

“I’m confused.”

“No need for confusion, son, it is very simple. You’re a deeply troubled young man and you have a disturbing history with women. When you came to us, I feared you were beyond repair. And though I hoped you could pick yourself up and move on, you are probably one of the last men on earth I would want for Mel.”

“Why did you never say anything then?”

“First, because of the way you looked at her. Oh, son, years make the joints hurt, the bones ache, and the skin wither. But years also give us a sharper vision. I saw in your eyes, before you and Mel knew it, that you two were deeply connected. And, son, I’m wise enough to know nothing gets in the way of true love.”

“Will you help me then?” I ask.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t need me too.”

“I do.”

“If you do, then you are unworthy of my daughter.”

“I never understand you, Dan. You’re so confusing.” I finally have the courage to say.

“Today, I’m not your counselor, Tarry. I’m the father of the girl you’re sleeping with. My grace toward you, let’s say, is somewhat limited.”

“I didn’t mean to disrespect you, Dan.”

“I hope you didn’t, son. Though I don’t know details of what happen prior to the day you relapsed—and please spare me—I do know that’s when you became intimate.” He clears his throat and pauses. “Did I approve of it? No. Did I feel betrayed by you? Yes. But see, son, with age comes self-control, maturity, and wisdom. I believe you are at a crossroad of your life. I believe I did a decent job of counseling you. But, above all, I believe the good inside you will guide you to make the right choices. You have to weather this storm in your life. Count on my prayers. But that’s the extent of my help, son. The rest is up to you.”

“There is nothing I want more than to get Mel back, Dan. I love her. I don’t want to risk losing her.”

“Then, fight, son. Show her, you’re worthy of her. Mel is a strong woman, she will not settle for less than the potential that is lying dormant inside you.”

“I might well need a miracle to convince Mel to get back to me. She thinks I should be with my child.”

“Mel has a quality that is also a flaw. She is self-righteous. She’s been like this since childhood. She always followed rules, obeyed us, and colored within the lines.”

“I won’t be with Nola, Dan. Do you understand that? I can still be a good father, if this child proves to be mine. What I can’t be is a father without Mel. I fucking love her too much, Dan, too much.” I finally succumb to unbidden tears.

“Mel lost Tim five years ago, Tarry. Not once has she glanced at another man. Do you think with you alive, she’ll ever be with someone else? In a way, son, if you don’t get Mel back, you’ve condemned her to a very lonely existence.”

“Do you think she is right? That I should be with Nola, when I love her?”

“Oh, Tarry. How I wish to give you a straight answer. But life is not black-and-white. There is a rainbow in between. I’ll tell you, don’t push it with Mel. Thanks to you, she just began healing from Tim’s death. Now you’ve devastated her life. You placed her in a dilemma that deals with the essence of what she considers right and wrong.”

“Involuntarily, Tarry, you opened a new wound in her soul. Some wounds heal fast, some take a long time, but healing is always a layered process. You both need individual healing, so you can be happy together. You need to find your worth for who you are before you can forge a future for the two of you. If you try a shortcut, you both will get burned.”