Page 48 of Broken Bonds

“What is it?” I make another attempt to find out.

“Take my hand to find out, Stella.”

God, what should I do?

Chapter 16

“Take my hand, Stella.” And in my mind I finish the phrase, walk with me, looking toward the future.

Could it be possible? I mean, I told him he was forgiven and meant it.

Can we leave the past behind and embark on a new journey without looking back?

When I was a little girl, my mom told me the story of some people who had to flee from their homes because God was going to destroy their city, from what was known to them, and they were told not to look back, to leave the past. Those who looked back became statues of salt.

And that is what I’m becoming, a statue unable to move. I have two options, return to what I’ve known all my life without moving forward, or embark on a new path without knowing what awaits me. The first possibility implies safety, the security of the known. The second comes wrapped up with many risks. I need to leave my fears, silence the voices in my mind that tell me that I shouldn’t, that I can’t.

Nothing is impossible. I need to remember, not nothing, I’m possible. I can.

I get up from the chair and walk to where he’s waiting for me. With each step I take, his smile grows larger, encouraging me to continue.

Once I reach the place where he’s waiting for me, he takes me by the hand, guides me downstairs. We walk to the terrace, stopping for him to grab a simple Kraft paper bag from the table where we had dinner last night, which they have now put on the terrace. I look at him almost with longing, will we have a special moment again, or is this farewell?

A relationship, especially a marriage, is for two. If he’s decided to let me go, there’s nothing I can do. I would have to go home regretting not having acted in time, letting love slip away like water in my hands.

We reach the edge of the property, where a glass fence protects us from the wind. The sun is shining and the sky is clear blue, adorned with perfect little white clouds that seem to be made of cotton. In the background, you can see the blue of the ocean bordered by a line of sand. It’s beautiful, but inside me, the storm is bubbling.

This is the end.

We have reached the last chapter of our short story.

“If you really want to go,” he begins to speak. Hearing him say those words breaks my heart a little. No, that isn’t what I want. No. “I’ll take you to Carrollton myself. You’ll just have to wait a few hours for Ethan to organize our security.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he raises his hand, asking me to be quiet for a moment so he can continue. Although my hair is up in a bun, I feel it rising behind me, wanting to fly, just like my soul.

“Just because you’re not with me doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you helpless, Stella,” he says firmly. “You’re my wife, and you will always have an important place in my heart. And I don’t want you to leave here hating me.”

Hating him? I wouldn’t!

“Lionel, I don’t…”

“I told you I’d take you to see the ocean, but now I won’t be able to,” he mutters as he stands behind me. He’s close, I can feel his body, but at the same time, we’re miles apart. There is a chasm between the two. “But I want you to take the ocean with you wherever you go.”

And how is that possible?

“Close your eyes,” he tells me.

I hear the paper bag open. He takes something out and places it near my ear. I can feel his breathing on the other side of my neck.

I wish he would put his lips on my skin, kiss me, and never let me go.

He’s saying goodbye. Whatever he’s going to give me is a goodbye present.

It’s what I asked of him. He’s giving me what I asked.

And it feels horrible.

He brings the object close to my ear, and suddenly I hear a loud whir.

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