Page 36 of Unspoken Words
“How is Romeo and Juliet not romantic? It’s one of the most romantic stories ever written.”
“They died,” he deadpanned.
“Well, yeah, because they couldn’t live without each other.”
“But. They. DIED!”
“There’s still love in death, Connor,” I said before stealing his crust.
“You’re wrong. There’s only death in death.”
We fell silent for a few seconds, the mention of death a solemn cloud over our otherwise romantic evening. I wanted desperately to argue his ridiculous logic, to change his view on the subject and help him heal a wound that was forever open. But I didn’t bother because I knew it was an argument I wouldn’t win with him, at least not tonight. All I wanted was to snuggle, eat pizza, and get lost in a world of love and happiness, which, sadly, crashed and burned when—ten minutes into the movie—the mother and wife in the story died of an aggressive cancer. And despite it being five years since Aaron’s passing, sudden death brought on by cancer was still a trigger for Connor.
“Shit! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she died of cancer. I wouldn’t have picked this movie had I known. I can turn it off if you want.” I sat up and reached for the remote control.
“It’s fine, baby.” He clasped my hand and placed it on his lap. “I want to see what happens.”
Connor’s gentle, determined tone lifted the corners of my mouth. “You sure?”
He tapped my nose and nodded.
“Okay. Good,” I said, wiggling to get comfortable again. “Because I really want to know what happens too.”
We watched the movie, and what struck me most was how vital timing was and how everything was linked to time. How you could miss meeting the love of your life at a subway station because you stopped for one minute to tie up your shoelace, or how you could fail to get to the airport in time to tell the love of your life not to leave because every traffic light you encountered on the way there was red.
Time dictated our lives, or perhaps there were other forces at play.
“Do you believe in fate?” I asked as the movie ended.
He turned his head just slightly and kissed my temple. “I’m not sure. Do you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, can two people really be destined together no matter unfortunate timing or constant obstacles in their way? Is our end and the journey toward it already forged at our beginning?” I pulled away from him and sat upright. “What if our paths are already paved and stepping onto that path is more a question of time rather than navigating the subconscious detours we take to get to it?”
He scratched his head. “Subconscious detours?”
“Yeah, the direction we think we’re meant to take because it’s deemed the ‘right’ way.”
“So you’re asking if what’s meant to be will be regardless of what we do or where we go?” he questioned.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. I used to believe fate was bullshit, the stuff of fairy tales, and thatwecontrolled our destiny. But then Aaron died. That wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t unhealthy or reckless. He had no control over what happened to him.”
“Exactly.” I relaxed once again, this time resting my head on Connor’s chest, pondering further. “It’s kinda creepy though.”
“Creepy?”
My head bounced as he chuckled.
“Yeah. Like there’s this big invisible puppeteer pulling our invisible strings.” I sounded a ghostly “Ooooo” and suspended my arms, as if I were the puppet in question.
“When you do that, yeah, it’s definitely creepy.”
Connor’s ravenous hands tickled my ribs until I was curled into a ball on his lap, begging him to stop, my heart pounding.
“Enough. I can’t breathe,” I cried out, laughing.
His grip morphed to a dull but soothing massage, his fingers kneading the muscles in my neck. Our eyes locked, and I instantly relaxed in his arms, his chin-length auburn hair falling forward to curtain his dimpled cheeks and warm, grey eyes. I let out a long breath then sucked in another, because that’s what Connor Bourke’s love-filled expression did to me—it drew me in like the moon to a tide and left me feeling safe, calm, and loved.
