Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Footprints - 9. Chapter 9
One week has passed quicker than the swat of a fly and every day has been a challenge. But, what would life be without challenge? In this instance, the challenge has come from nature. Unlike a computer, a botched challenge is not easily turned back to default. There is no “give me back my arm” button. Unlike an artist’s canvass, there is no brush that can sweep over a mistake and make it right. You’ve come to realize that learning to do basic, mediocre chores like brushing teeth, signing a document and putting on clothes, is, in itself, a disadvantage. But each one a disadvantage that can be overcome.
The doctors are pleased. There is no infection. The wound is clean. The stump is “handsome” and responding well to treatment. At last you’re functioning like a healthy person, or as reasonably close to a healthy person as humanly possible.
But it’s not your health that’s eating you from the inside out. It’s Will. His love for you. His loyalty and kindness. His resolve. His absolute faith in you. He’s an old soul. You see the places he’s been and the people he’s met on his journeys. It’s in his eyes. And it’s grabbed you like an amoebic blob.
You cannot flee from this feeling of utter love. Will has restored your faith in the promise that love brings and you want, no, you wish that you had never lost it. At thirty, you should be in a loving relationship, and, if you were straight, you’d probably be married and have two or three children playing in a garden surrounded by a picket fence. As it is, at thirty, your spirituality is wanting. Your life is bereft of soul stuff.
It’s time to reclaim it.
Time to love again.
Time to come clean.
A knock on the door. You expect it’s Will come to take you home. Turning away from the window, you come face to face with the one person you never expected to see.
Corneles.
‘You.’ You don’t have time to listen to his sob story. You have other, pressing matters of the heart to attend. He stands at the door, expecting an invite. You are unable to welcome him.
‘They told me you’re leaving the hospital. That you manage your condition well. I’m proud of you.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I should never have come back I know that. I was hoping that you’d give me a second chance. I don’t deserve that, I know. I also know that you love Will and you’re not in the marketplace. While in prison I cried and cried for us, every day. I hoped you’d find out and maybe come to visit me. Hope faded with each passing day and I realized I should have told you. I never apologized to you, and that worried me too.’
‘I’m going to ask you again, Corneles. What do you want?’
‘Your forgiveness is all I want. I don’t want you to hate me. Please just don’t hate me.’
‘You’ve had four years to think about what you want to say. I haven’t. I don’t hate you. I’m just indifferent. I appreciate that you thought about me every day. At first I was lost without you. I tried to find you. Your family didn’t know where you were, and your company said that they had not heard from you and your friend said that she was under pressure not to betray you. I cried for two years. I told myself over and over again that the only reasonable explanation for you walking out on me was because you hated me. No matter how many times I played it in my mind, no matter how many times I rehearsed the dialogue exchanged between myself and your friend at work the day she told me you’d not be coming back home, and no matter how many times I prayed to turn back time, I knew deep in my heart that there was no way for me to go back in time and change what happened. I had no power over what happened and I realized I had been spending so much energy crying and imagining where you were that I was neglecting myself. I sat down one day, on the beach, staring at the waves and the gulls and the ships and imagined that I had come out of this unscathed. I told myself that there was nothing I could do to change the past. And whenever I felt your memory drifting into my mind, I remembered that I could not change it. I stopped caring. I stopped feeling guilty because it was maybe something I did. I reminded myself that whatever happened was your choice. I had nothing to do with it. I did what I should have done the day you left. I put the past in the past. The only problem I had, was forgetting. So it’s difficult for me to forgive. Forgiving is all about forgetting. I so much wanted to feel not hurt.'
‘I understand. I lost you the day I committed fraud.’
‘Indeed you did. Will is going to be here in a few minutes. It will be the last time we see each other, Corneles.’
‘Baz…there’s another reason I came back to see you. I…I have nowhere to go. I’m sleeping on a park bench, sometimes the beach. I…I…oh god! I need a place to stay. Please help me.’
How can you stand there and watch a man weep for forgiveness? How can you allow this man, who had been your life for several years, go back to a park bench? Your heart weeps for him, but it belongs to another. Has he suffered enough? Has his suffering turned you into a cold shadow of who you were four years previously?
‘Hey Baz. Oh…what’s going on here?’ Will stops just short of bumping into Corneles.
‘Corneles is just leaving,’ you say.
But Will is not convinced. Corneles’ tears spill off his face. His trembling fingers wipe away the drops and he turns to leave.
‘No. Wait. Why are you crying? Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?’
Corneles stops at the door and turns to face Will. ‘I…I’m sorry Will. I should never have come here in the first place.’
‘He has nowhere to go.' Your voice is cold.
‘Where have you been staying these last few days?’ `Will asks, handing him a handkerchief.
‘In the park, on the beach. Wherever I can find shelter.’
‘You’re not serious,’ Will says, collecting your suitcase off the bed.
‘He’s dead serious,’ you say.
‘Baz, you have two spare rooms. Why can’t he stay with you? I mean, he is your ex.’
You feel flushed. Will is more of a man than you could ever be. He makes immediate decisions. He knows he could lose you if Corneles comes to stay with you. You also know that if not for Will, you would have died. There would be no YOU. This would never be happening. You know that your love for him will never die, so strong is your love for him, therefore, no one can be a threat.
‘Can I just say something here?’ Will says, placing the suitcase on the floor. ‘ I have never been in love. But I have had friends and many have walked away from me because of who I am and what I do. Ruwan is the only person who has ever understood me. But I forgive them. Forgiving is perhaps the hardest thing to do. I would imagine that it’s even harder when you are trying to forgive someone as important as an ex lover. I like you Corneles. And Baz, I want you to learn to forgive him. He’s paid his debt to society. He needs a chance.’
‘Let’s get out of here. All of us.’ You head towards the door. In the long corridor, Will turns and sees Corneles still at the door to the room.
‘Hey! Are you coming?’
***
Moonlight reflects off the calm water. Hand in hand, you walk well away from the surge of water along the beach.
‘Why did you tell him it’s okay to stay with me?’ You ask.
‘Because he’s a desperate man looking for the friend he once had.’
‘Are you sure he doesn’t want more than just friendship?’
‘He wants friends, Baz. He wants security. Wants to be trusted again. This is his way of saying I atone for what I have done. He’s desperately seeking your forgiveness. Only you can change his desperation.’
‘What if he comes between us?’
‘He won’t. I won’t let him.’ Will steps in front of you and touches your face. ‘You are much bigger than just a simple man with simple, average feelings, Baz. You felt sorry for him today. I did too. What you must never forget is that, no matter how much he hurt you, you are human, and humane. That’s why I asked you to accept him. If you didn’t want to, you would have said so. But you didn’t. He means no harm. He knows how I feel about you. He won’t destroy that.’
Without warning you drop to your knees and hold onto Will’s legs with one hand. You’re sobbing and pressing your head against his thigh.
‘Oh my God, Will. I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for coming into my life.’
Will helps you to your feet. He’s smiling. ‘That’s what I have been waiting to hear since the day we met.’
The kiss is gentle, but passionate. His mouth is warm and your tears fall onto his tongue. He rolls his tongue along your cheek and collects the dew, then takes your hand and leads you home.
***
‘Done!’
Will comes tearing into the studio. ‘I heard you shout out. What?’ He stops dead in his tracks.
‘It’s been gross trying to paint with one hand, but it’s finished. You like it?’
‘That…that’s me.’
‘Yup.’
Will approaches the painting cautiously. He’s diving off the tall rocks of the tidal pool into the ocean. His arms extended, hands clasped together just as he’s about to hit the water. His black swimming trunks. His hair flowing backwards, his powerful legs and body in perfect harmony with the air.
‘It’s beautiful,’ he says. ‘I want it in the bedroom.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘As sure as the day I was born.’
‘Do you think the other two will like it?’
‘Who cares. I love it. It’s mine, not theirs. By the way, I can’t find them. They went off this morning and haven’t come back.’
‘I think they’re in love.’
‘They are going to freak when they see this.’ Will says. You dip the brushes into a turpentine solution.
‘We have to wait a couple of days for it to dry completely, then we can hang it in the bedroom.’
‘Mister Baz man, I am the luckiest guy on earth. ‘ Will says, taking your face in his hands.
‘I am.’
‘I’ve prepared lunch for us. Bet you’re starving.’
‘Yup.’
It’s a warm day. A slight breeze picks up sand off the beach. Two glasses of wine sparkle in the midday light. From the balcony, Will searches for a sign of Ruwan and Corneles.
‘Hey, Baz.’
‘Yup.’
‘Check this out.’
Will points at two men walking hand in hand down the beach, their jeans rolled up, shirtless.
‘Now that’s interesting. What can I say?’
‘I know what I can say.’
‘Spill.’
‘Love is a gift.’
End
- 10
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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