Page 13 of All That We Are Together

We both kept staring at the pictures.

“You’re intuitive,” she whispered in a voice soft, almost like a caress.

I felt a tightness in my chest and brought my hand to my heart. I blinked. I couldn’t remember crying even once in my life. Sure, I’d had feelings there, just under the skin, feelings that threatened to overflow, but I’d always managed to keep them in check. That night, though, standing in front of that love that had once been ours, I cried. One tear, in silence. Not from sorrow, but from its opposite. And I told her, in a hoarse tone, “I’m proud of you, Leah.”

14

Leah

I closed my eyes when his words penetrated me, filled me, lodged inside me. ThatI’m proud of youthat I hated and loved in equal parts. I had to gather all the courage I had left to dare meet eyes with him. Axel’s eyes were slightly red, and I didn’t know what to say. All I could think of was that I had him there in front of me, and he didn’t even seem real. His presence suffused the entire room, every corner, every wall…

“Leah, here you are. I couldn’t find you.”

I turned toward Landon.

I think all he needed was a quick glance to realize who was standing next to me and that I needed to get out of there, because I couldn’t breathe…

He stretched his hand out; I took it. And I walked away from Axel…

I didn’t look back. I didn’t say goodbye. I just walked, because that was what I needed: to walk, be somewhere else. I almost held my breath until the night wind brushed across my face. Whenthe silence outside turned dense around us, Landon hugged me. I clutched him tight. He was my safety.

“You okay?” He didn’t let me go.

“Let’s go home.” He kissed my forehead and held my hand again.

Every step we took pushed me farther away, brought me more relief. Before we rounded the next corner, I did look back over my shoulder, and I thought I saw his silhouette in the gallery door, but then I blinked, and he wasn’t there, and I told myself it was better that way.

Soon, we were back in Landon’s apartment.

We got into bed, and I curled up beside him. My hand strayed under his T-shirt and I covered his lips with mine. He panted, and our tongues met in a kiss that was urgent but was also much, much more. I took off my dress and let my hair down.

“Leah…” Landon’s breathing was agitated.

I leaned over and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. He whispered my name again, his lips close to mine, and grabbed my wrist before I could proceed.

“Not like this, Leah. This…”

“But I need you,” I begged.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the best person I know. Because when I’m with you, I feel safe, and for an eternity now, I’ve had the feeling I’m walking on tiptoe, scared. Because you make me feel stronger.”

Landon rolled over and lay on top of me, and then I thought only of him and of the moment we were sharing: his kisses, his touch, the way we made love, always gentle, always making me feel I was precious in his eyes.

15

Axel

Time doesn’t heal all. Time calms, softens, files away the hard edges, but it doesn’t make them disappear. Time didn’t cure me of her. Time wasn’t enough to avoid my entire body reacting to her, as if it remembered every freckle on her skin, every curve my hands had grazed three years before. Time did nothing to change that. And when I had her there and I sank into those eyes the color of the sea, I realized I would never be able to forget her, because that would mean erasing myself.

16

Leah

I got over losing my parents. No, it wouldn’t be honest to say that. In reality, I assimilated it, accepted it, but I lost parts of myself in the process. And I acquired new ones. I opened up. I fell in love. And I got my heart broken. I left Axel’s home one night at the end of spring with all those pieces of it in my hand. It was a different type of pain. A pain I gnawed at alone on the days when I used to walk through Brisbane and get lost in its streets.

One of those days, I went to the flea market by the river. It was full of stands with all kinds of goods, but only one thing caught my eye. Maybe because I still missed him then and thought I’d be able to get closer to him if I bought that object I’d later stick in the top drawer of my nightstand, hoping I’d never need it again. But that night, when longing and loneliness took hold of me, I grabbed it. I took out the shell I’d bought, put it to my ear, and listened, eyes closed, to the sound of the sea. And I heard him.