Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (123 page)

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Authors: Roxane Tepfer Sanford

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BOOK: Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy
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“Ayden!” Heath sucked in his breath behind
me.

I was furious . . . livid, and rushed over to
Ayden. He stood frozen as I beat my fists against his strong chest
and he could only wince as I lashed out with anger and rage. “HOW
COULD YOU?” I screamed. “Do you realize what you have done? Do you
have any idea what you put me through?”

Heath ran to me and seized my arms, stopping
me from slapping Ayden’s face again.

“All I can say is I am sorry. I never meant
for any of this to happen. I love you, Lillian. You belong with me.
You are the mother of my son. I am overcome with regret,” he said
with sorrowful eyes.

“You can’t just waltz in here back from the
dead and claim her! Have you any idea how we have suffered?” Heath
shouted.

“You stay out of this, Heath. This is between
my wife and me!” Ayden ordered, his eyes ablaze.

Heath carefully moved me aside and stepped
boldly before his younger brother with a burning fire that consumed
his face. Ayden held his head high. His defiant eyes locked onto
Heath’s, refusing to back down.

“You have no right to be here any longer. Go
back to wherever you came from. You made your choice, now live with
it! Lillian is my wife now, she belongs with me!”

Without warning, Ayden lunged forward into
Heath, violently smashing him up against the wall. They beat angry
fists into one another, pounding with all their might, one blow
after another. Tables crashed to the floor, the white lace curtains
that adorned the window were torn down as the two crashed into the
window, shattering glass everywhere. Thomas began to cry, instantly
snapping me out of my traumatized trance. “Stop it, both of you.
STOP IT!” I ordered, while frantically hushing my innocent baby.
Ayden dropped his clenched fist to his side. Heath spun around and
stepped out from Ayden’s line of fire, quickly wiping the dripping
blood from his lip, then turned to me.

Inevitably, the past, present, and future
mercilessly clashed together all at once, as Heath looked through
me and straight into my soul. He held his anguished stare until my
distressed choice to abandon my own happiness for the sake of baby
Thomas became absolutely evident, then in an instant, Heath lowered
his tear-filled, defeated eyes, and turned away, ultimately
surrendering his love for me.

 

* * *

 

Chapter
Thirty-Two
Dying rose

In the years following Heath’s departure from
Jasper Island, after a long day of contently doing chores and
tending to all of Thomas’s needs, reading him a book and putting
him to sleep in the room that had once been mine while Ayden was up
in the tower faithfully working the light, I climbed into bed and
wept for all I had left of Heath. I kept the dried rose petals of
the last rose Heath gave to me pressed into Momma’s journal. Not
one night went by that I didn’t open the book, touch the rose, then
fall apart and weep for the man I was born to love, yet had to let
go. As tormenting as it was to be away from Heath’s love, to no
longer have him to protect me, love me, and complete me, our
destiny to live out our lives together, at the very best, remained
suspended. I promised Thomas, I promised myself, with all the
strength I had in my soul that I would stay true to Ayden, the
father of my baby boy, and be the good mother and wife I was
obligated to me - for their sake. I wasn’t going to repeat the
terrible mistakes of my parents. Thomas would grow up with his real
father, living a wholesome, healthy childhood on Jasper Island. He
would have the childhood I had always wished for. And on the nights
Ayden came to bed with me, I cried silently so he wouldn’t hear. I
didn’t want Ayden to know how I lived with a broken heart.

Ayden and I never spoke of the night he took
himself out to sea, where I believed he had died. I realized he had
probably crawled up onto the island and stayed hidden for months on
end, watching and waiting as a ghost-like spirit to see if the baby
I carried was his. When Thomas was born in May, Ayden was able to
count all the months back and conclude that Thomas was indeed his
son.

I never regretted Ayden’s return when I
watched Thomas follow his daddy around the island like a shadow.
Ayden was more than grateful to me for giving him a son and
agreeing to stay and be his wife, though it took a very long time
to allow myself to become like a wife to him.

It wasn’t until I received Heath’s first
letter, three years later, that my tears dried for good and a
permanent smile came to my consistently glum face. All that worry
that Heath had found someone to replace me in his heart was at once
put to rest, as he wrote me an intimate love letter and described
in detail his time on the sea.

Heath was a doctor aboard the
Oceanic
- the same liner on which he and I had planned to take our
honeymoon. Heath admitted not one moment in time passed by without
him thinking of me, longing for me, dreaming of me, and knowing we
would be together again, one day after Thomas was grown, when I
would be free to love him again - this time for good

I know the choice you had to make left you
with the same permanent ache in your heart as it has mine. It took
me all this time to put away my anguish over what I have lost, over
things that cannot be changed, and look with joyfulness toward the
future you and I will someday share together. I will wait until
beyond forever and eternity for you. You and only you are my true
love.

After Heath’s declaration of everlasting love
and our plans to meet again someday, I was able to give Ayden all
that I had left. I became a wife, who while I was with him was
completely devoted, caring, warm, and loving. Ayden was beyond
happy when I shared myself with him and whispered I loved him,
although he couldn’t know it was his own brother who in my dreams
was making love to me.

With each intimate love letter I received,
Heath revealed he was crossing off the days until we could be
together again. With each passing year, as he sailed all over the
world visiting exotic places he was going to bring me back to one
day. I stayed faithful to Ayden, our only child, and the
lighthouse.

As each of Thomas’s birthdays came and went,
I wrote to Heath, sending him my long distance love from the heart.
Included in the letters were photographs of Thomas and myself.

Heath wrote,

You are just as breathtaking as ever. I
cannot wait to hold you and tell you that in person. I love you
with all my heart,

and

The years aren’t passing quickly enough. I
dream about you, Lillian, and about us reuniting again.

The autumn after Thomas’s fourteenth
birthday, we received the tragic news from Elizabeth that Opal and
Edward had perished in a fire. Elizabeth had grown into a beautiful
young woman and became a teacher at the same school where she had
been taught.

“Father ran in to save a child locked in one
of the rooms, and Mother went into the inferno after him,”
Elizabeth explained with sign language, her face grief-stricken.
“They weren’t able to get out.”

The cemetery was covered with hundreds of
leaves in bold beautiful shades of red, yellow, and purple; the sky
was clear and crisp. None of us knew if we should expect Heath at
the funeral. We all stood not far from where our good friend Otto
had been buried the previous year, looking about to see if he had
arrived. Elizabeth leaned on her fiancé, Charles Bradcliff, for
support, scanning the distance for Heath and looking worried as
Ayden frowned, tense, stiff, and uncomfortable, and I wrung my
hands together nervously, anxious to finally see him again.

The minister waited as long as he could, then
cleared his throat and began the moving sermon before the graves of
Opal and Edward Dalton.

Heath didn’t come for his parent’s funeral
and explained why in his next letter not long after.

I feared seeing you again. I would not be
able to contain my sorrow - for my parents’ death and for losing
you to Ayden years ago. Out on the sea, I privately mourned my
mother and father’s passing. Please ask Elizabeth to forgive me. I
miss you terribly, Lillian. My heart aches without you.

Elizabeth wasn’t so forgiving when Heath did
not come for her wedding to Charles. He wrote and explained he
wasn’t able to take leave, but she didn’t believe him and was
devastated. And two years later, when her son was born and Heath
again didn’t arrive for the christening, Elizabeth refused to
communicate with her brother again.

I wanted to explain to her that it was my
fault Heath stayed away, but then I would have had to expose my
long distance love affair with Heath and risk losing both men.

While I was elated as the years sped by,
bringing me closer and closer to seeing Heath again, it was also
sad to watch Thomas turn into a man and prepare to leave home. He
was as handsome as both his father and uncle. Thomas was as tall as
Heath, but had Ayden’s facial features (with the exception of the
cleft in his square chin). All I could see of myself in my son was
his full, rosy lips.

To Ayden’s dismay, Thomas decided to go off
to Harvard and pursue a degree in the medical field. Although
Thomas had a natural passion for the sea - inherited from both
Ayden and me - he had Heath’s superior intellect. It was difficult
for Ayden to see such a similarity between his brother and son, and
he was dejected for a long time.

Thomas knew very little about his Uncle
Heath. He had seen photographs of him as a child; however, neither
Ayden nor I could speak of him without me looking melancholy, or
Ayden’s eyes burning with jealousy.

Shortly after Thomas left for the university,
I spent months struggling with how to tell Ayden I was leaving the
lighthouse station and ending our nineteen-year marriage. Heath’s
letters arrived weekly, pleading with me to finally come and be
with him.

The world is waiting for you and me. Let me
love you again, as I dream with every breath I take. Come be with
me, Lillian.

Ayden had been a good husband to me. He’d
learned over the years to balance his duties as a keeper and his
responsibilities as a husband. Ayden was attentive and loving, and
always passionate in bed. He frequently surprised me with fancy
bottles of French perfume or fresh picked wildflowers. On our fifth
wedding anniversary, he placed a two-karat diamond ring on my
finger and said, “I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” Ayden had
been waiting for his share of his grandparent’s inheritance to buy
me that ring.

By late winter, I had found enough emotional
courage and physical strength within myself to go to Ayden and tell
him I was leaving at first sign of spring. He had been dutifully up
all night in the tower, though sick with a terrible lingering cold
he couldn’t seem to shake. He appeared tired and worn as he came to
hug me. I gently pushed him back, rapidly blinking away my
tears.

Ayden peered closely at me. I went to speak,
and as if he knew exactly what I was about to say, he said in a
tight, wretched voice, “Please don’t leave me. I am sick and want
to spend my last days on the island with you before I die.”

Please wait just a little longer for me,
Heath. I must stay beside Ayden in his time of need.

Of course, my darling Lillian. Although it
pains me to have you far from my loving arms, I will wait forever
for you.

Year after year melted into one long, drawn
out day, keeping Heath and me apart and our much-anticipated
reunion on hold. Ayden grew sicker as time passed, but clung to
life with a vengeance. For the last few months, Ayden was
bedridden. I maintained his position as primary keeper, while still
devotedly tending to his needs. Thomas occasionally took leave from
his job as a pharmacist and traveled to the island all the way from
California as often as he could, but he had his own life. He was
recently married to a beautiful girl named Audrey, and they were
trying for a baby.

On a cold day, just before spring of 1912, as
the blustery, freezing wind blew off the sea and across the island,
Ayden called for me.

“I’m right here,” I said, choking back my
tears. He struggled to reach for my hand. I took hold of his frail,
weak hand and held it close against my heart, while his worn-out
eyes fell on me for the last time.

“Lillian,” he began in a soft, weary voice.
“All these years I know why you stayed with me. I was selfish to
keep you here, but I have no regrets.”

“Ayden, please don’t…” I sobbed.

“Let me have my say,” he implored.

I held my tongue and allowed him to finish.
It was so difficult to watch him struggle to breathe and speak at
the same time, but I saw how he needed to have me hear his final
words. “Thank you for being a good, faithful wife to me, for giving
me such a fine son. I want you to go be happy, Lillian; I want you
to fix your broken heart. I heard you crying all those nights after
you chose me over Heath, I know about all the love letters.”

I began to cry uncontrollably, clinging to
him, yet Ayden insisted I cry no more.

“You have given me more than I could have
ever hoped for. Please don’t cry anymore. After a lifetime of
sadness, promise me you will let Heath chase away all your sorrow.
Promise me!” Ayden begged.

During all our years together, I had always
longed to know the truth - why he didn’t deny fathering Sylvia’s
baby, but couldn’t find the courage to ask now.

“I‘ve been a lucky woman to have you as my
friend, as my husband all these years. You believed I loved you,
don’t you Ayden?” I cried in dismay, as he sucked in his last
breath and lowered his heavy lids.

Ayden gently squeezed my hand one last time
and nodded knowingly, then quietly passed away.

I wanted to tell Heath about Ayden’s death in
person. I wrote to him, agreeing to reunite after twenty-nine years
apart.

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