While In Mourning

“Cindy, you look beautiful tonight.” He said softly, looking straight into my eyes. I looked down and blushed, trying not to make a fool of myself by smiling too much. I played with his fingers a little more, both my hands laced into his. I looked up again, meeting his sparkling auburn eyes. A gorgeous shade of reddish-brown, with a hint of orangey yellow around the outer edge. Those eyes could put stars to shame, and they constantly stole the air from my lungs.

“Thank you, Tom.” I replied, smiling. He smiled back, and squeezed my hands tighter.

“Happy anniversary, darling.”

“And to you, my dear.” We shared a few moments of just getting lost in each other’s eyes then. That’s when you know you’re truly in love. When you can share minutes of complete silence without having to awkwardly look away or play with your fingertips, and fully enjoy the moment.

“Have I ever told you…” He began. “…how my father proposed to my mother?”

I shook my head no, and he chuckled.

“Well, that’s because he never did.” I laughed too, not quite understanding what he was getting at.

“However, he always regretted it. He would tell me that he wished every single day that he could have pulled out a sparkling silver ring, preferably with a shiny big silver heart straight in the middle, and asked for her hand in marriage on their anniversary day.” He looked at me again, his smile disappearing. He wasn’t upset, just serious. Suddenly, he knelt down on one knee in front of me, and I gasped along with everyone surrounding us in the restaurant. He pulled out this little black box, and opened it to reveal the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever laid my eyes on. It was a silver band, with a gorgeous diamond heart straight in the middle of it, just like he had described before.

“He never had the courage to give it to her.” He said. I put my hands over my mouth and disbelief and waited for him to continue, the whole restaurant watching us.

“Cindy, I knew from the first day I met you that you are the most beautiful, intelligent, sweet, and fun girl I would ever meet in my entire life. I watched my father live in regret for years because he had never officially married my mother. I refuse to do the same with you. I’ll do this right, because you deserve the best that there is. Cindy Rose Mackenzie, will you be mine forever as my caring wife, with me as your loving husband?” I smiled, and felt my eyes starting to water. I looked down for a split second, taking all of this in, and quickly looked back up again.

“Yes.” I replied. “Yes, I will marry you because I love you.” He flashed me a very wide smile, and pulled the ring out of its placement in the box. He slowly slid it on my finger, and I got up to kiss him. Everyone in the restaurant clapped once they realized what the answer was, and we shared a moment of perfection right then and there.

We paid the check at the front desk, and left the restaurant for the first time as a happy couple of fiancee’s. It was raining outside, and it could have ruined my beautiful dress that I was saving for this night, but I did not care. We started walking to the car, and then I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. He walked back to face me.

“What’s the matter?” He asked. I grinned.

“I just realized that I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with the man of my dreams.” He returned my grin, and picked me up to spin me around. I laughed more than I ever had while I was spinning. I had never been so happy.

He set me down, and planted a kiss on my lips.

“I love you.” He said, smiling brightly. Right when I was going to reply, his smile instantly disappeared. The color from his face escaped, and his eyes seemed horrified.

“Tom, what’s wrong?” I asked, worried. His hand left my waist and retreated to his chest, which was stained a color much darker than the original of his shirt. I panicked, and he fell backwards onto the blacktop. I saw a man pointing a gun from afar, and I assumed he was the one responsible for my fiancee’s pain. I quickly knelt down to him and grabbed his hand.

“Tom? Tom?! Tom, are you alright?” I asked, frantically. Tears were quickly rolling down my face, and I grabbed his hand tighter and tighter. His eyes started watering, and his mouth was open as he tried to speak.

“C-cindy?” He muttered.

“Yes. Yes, what is it?” I said, completely sobbing.

“I’m c-cold…” He said, and closed his eyes.

“Tom!” I shook his body, but he had no response. I knew that he was gone, but I kept shaking and screaming his name for a minute longer, just in case. Finally, I stopped, and just let my head hang down. I grabbed his hand, which was placed on his chest, and sobbed to the silence of his heart.

—

This was the third morning in a row where I had woken up from that memory in my dreams. It’s been a year since Tom died. As of today, it’s been exactly a year. I woke up with tears streaming down my face, as I did the past two days. I am revisited with thoughts of ‘If only we had gone to a different restaurant. If only we hadn’t gotten in the way of that gun fight between those guys. If only…” I had been haunted by those thoughts by this past entire year.

I caressed the sparkling heart of my ring on my left ring finger, crying. I wiped away the tears, like I always had, and continued on with my daily routine. I forced myself to get out of bed despite my desire, and took a quick shower.

I had the same routine every day since my darling love passed. I would get up every day crying and looking at my ring, I’d go to the coffee shop and read the morning paper, and I’d spend the day reading or working online (I’m a novelist, and I’ve been working on a nonfiction novel about what happened with Tom and I), or sometimes I would go to the gym and exercise.

Today, something broke my routine. My routine that kept me sane, my routine that would keep me from spending every moment mourning the death of Tom, was broken by something today.

I went to the coffee shop with a paper in hand, about to get my daily cup of coffee. I walked up to the counter, already starting to read the front page of the paper, and just said “the usual.”

“Uh, excuse me, miss?” I heard a man’s voice say, aside from the usual woman who served me.

“Oh, uh…I’m sorry. Where’s Angela?”

“She works the afternoon shift now. I just started working here today. My Name’s Chris.” He stuck out his hand. I shook it, but was still a little confused. Normally, when someone is working behind a counter at a coffee shop for their first day, they don’t try to become buddy-buddy with every customer, now do they? Well, I excused him anyway. He seemed like a respectful man. He had blonde hair that was a little over grown, but well kept. A thin blonde mustache matched it, but what caught my attention was the subjects hiding behind those thick-rimmed glasses.

He had bright, auburn eyes. They were a reddish brown color, with a touch of orangey yellow around the edges.

I stared into his eyes without saying a word, and I couldn’t look away. I felt a little faint for a second, and I realized I wasn’t breathing. I noticed that he hadn’t said or done anything either. The man behind my nudged us angrily, so I quickly just walked away and sat at the small table in the back corner. I realized then that I had forgotten to order any coffee, but I sat there and read my paper anyway. A white cup with steam escaping from it found itself to the table in front of my paper, and I saw Chris sit down across from me.

“Hey, umm, I thought I’d give you this. You were here all by your lonesome, and looked like you needed some cheering up.” He said. I stared at him again for a moment, but I quickly looked away, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, well, thank you, Chris. That’s very thoughtful of you.” I said, a bit emotionless, and went back to reading my paper. I noticed from the corner of my eye that he leaned in a little closer to me.

“You never told me your name.” He said, seeming intrigued. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Well, I told you my name was Chris, and I even held out my hand for you to hold, but then…I don’t know. I looked into your eyes and I just…I…” He looked down. I was a little taken aback when he said he held out his hand for me to hold, and not for me to shake. I studied him. He looked like he was about to cry, and it seemed like he was avoiding looking at me.

“My name is Cindy.” I said, smiling. I hoped he would cheer up. He smiled, and then he chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry for seeming so rude. It’s just…” He trailed off, and I noticed a wedding band around his left ring finger. I felt a little bit of a discomforting feeling inside me, like anger or jealousy, whence I saw it.

“It’s just what?” I asked.

“It’s…it’s your eyes. They’re forest green, with a lighter green around the pupil.”

“Yeah…so?”

“My wife had the same eyes.”

“Well, your wife and I have some similarities then.”

“My wife died a year ago. Exactly a year ago today, actually. We were celebrating a year of marriage together, so I took her out to eat, and the place was robbed. She was killed in the crossfire…” His eyes went mellow. I froze, and I felt close to him, even though I had just met him. I placed my hand on top of his left hand. He studied my ring, but I ignored it.

“You still wear the ring as a reminder of her love.”

“Yes, how did you know.”

“I do the same.” I said, and swallowed to keep down all the bad feelings. “Exactly a year ago, my fiance proposed to me as a gift, so to speak, for our second anniversary. We were also at a restaurant, and there was a gun fight going on in the parking lot. He died in my arms after spinning me around in absolute happiness.” He wrapped his hand around mine and looked into my eyes. I looked back, and got lost in his eyes again. I could tell he was getting lost in mine as well.

“You wear the ring so you can feel close to him, even if he can never be here.”

“Yes, I do.”

We spent the rest of the morning opening up to each other completely. We spilled all of the feelings that we both had been bottling up, and we even cried a little together. Before we knew it, it was noon and the morning was over.

“Oh, it’s 12. I…I should get back.” He said, glancing back at the counter. I could see that he was worried, as he just remembered now that he was supposed to be working all morning and not spending time with me.

“I should get home anyway.” I said, and flashed him a smile. He flashed me a smile back.

“Can I walk you outside?”

“That would be nice.” We got up from the table, and he linked his hand with mine. We walked outside the doors of the coffee shop, and he turned to look at me.

“Hey, do you want to meet again for breakfast tomorrow morning?” I smiled at the thought, and nodded.

“I’d like that.” I replied. He smiled, and then he became serious. I did the same. He started to lean in, and I leaned up to follow. He pressed his lips to mine, and for once in a year, I had feeling in my heart aside from emptiness. He pulled away, and looked in my eyes for one last time, then went back inside.

On the entire walk home, I was happy, and I had to stop myself from smiling too much. Chris and our breakfast the next morning was all that was on my mind. Yet, the second I got home, I retreated to my room and cried. I cried and cried until I could not cry anymore. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and started writing.

Dear Tom,

I’m so sorry. I’ve betrayed you. I kissed another guy, and I have feelings for him as well, to make it even worse. He asked for plans, a date, tomorrow morning, and I had the nerve to say yes. I am more sorry than I have ever been, and I promise I will go down there and tell him that nothing can happen between us ever again. Please forgive me.

Love always, Cindy

I placed the letter into an envelope, and licked it closed. I scribbled the name I knew best, ever since birth, onto the middle front of the envelope; God.

I placed the letter in my mailbox, and lifted the red flag.

That night, I prayed to God that he would give Tom my letter of apology. I knew that he always watched over me, and I did not want him to remain in heaven as disappointed.

—

The next morning, things changed. I did not have the same memory in my dreams last night, and so I did not wake up crying. I did not feel the urge to caress the ring around my finger either. I was eager to go outside to the mailbox to see if God had taken my letter, but I was saddened to see the red flag up. I placed it down, and opened the mailbox to take back my rejected letter. However, I was surprised to see that this was not my envelope.

In my hand laid a white envelope with an elegant silver design around all the edges. I pulled out a piece of paper from inside it.

My darling Cindy,

You are not forgiven, for you did not do anything wrong. My love for you was the strongest there ever was, and it continues to be that way even when I’m this far away. I am always in your heart, and always looking out for you. A year and one day ago, I promised to love, cherish, and honor you for the rest of eternity.

I’ve sent you an angel to do that for you until I can. Please accept it, and know that I am always here, even if you can’t see me.

Love, Tom.

I held the letter to my heart, and I smiled. I darted my eyes around, and then stopped. I felt a cold spot on my cheek, and much warmth in my heart. For the first time in my life, I closed my eyes, and felt the wind wash over me with bliss.