The Light in the Wound (20 page)

Finally, we were getting somewhere.

“I’ve come too far to give this up,” he continued. “My whole family is depending on me to succeed. I’m not ready to start a family. I know you have always been so patient and cognizant of this fact that you have never pressured me to set a date, to marry you or to get engaged. I feel really guilty about it, and yet, I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“Jesse, we’re at the age where we should be combining our lives together. Whether it’s our work lives, our social lives or our home lives. I can’t just be the girl that you see every weekend. It’s not enough for me anymore. I don’t think I deserve that after all these years that we’ve been together. Are you outgrowing me?”

Silence. He rubbed his forehead and massaged his temples as if he had a headache.

“Jess?”

“Selfishly, there is so much I still want to do. I want to be able to map my own course without being held back. Do I want to date other girls? Sometimes I do, although in the back of my mind, I know that no one else will measure up to you. But do I wonder? Yes, I do.”

There was the clincher. He had outgrown me. I allowed him to take away my identity. Why would I even wonder how this happened?
When grown-ups advise you to see the world, gain some experiences, know that there’s truth in that. Somehow, you won’t know which grass is greener until you venture out over the fence.

“Maybe it’s best if we broke up for a while. That way you won’t feel bad about doing or seeing whatever or whoever it is you want to do or see while you’re abroad.”

Oh my God. Did I just stab myself in the heart, cut it in half and hand it over to him?

“Iss, I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you can’t have your cake and eat it too,” I stammered.

“I’m gonna lose you, I know I will. There are so many other guys out there waiting for the chance to take you away from me. You’ve grown more beautiful since the day I met you six years ago.”

“And yet, therein lies the problem. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve always only ever wanted you. You keep telling me that I’m beautiful, that I’m perfect. Apparently, it’s never been enough for you to make any significant decisions to show me that I matter,” I declared shakily.

And with that, I stood up on wavering legs, walked toward the dresser and started emptying the drawers to pack my overnight bag.

“I don’t know what I want,” he blurted out.

‘Well, then let me know when you figure it out.” I could hardly see past my tears. He wasn’t going to give up a trip with Katrina Edwards. He wasn’t going to fight for me.

That night, I didn’t want to alarm anybody by walking out of our bedroom after the conversation we just had. I gathered up all my strength to go to bed while he sat upright clenching his fists, stared at the wall, and buried his face in his hands. He finally left the room a few minutes later, which gave me permission to cry myself to sleep.

When I woke up the next day, I was in Jesse’s arms again. I don’t know what had happened, but I assumed that he crawled back into bed, held me, and that I had let him.
Even subconsciously, my body always gravitates toward him.
We gathered our things in silence and followed the group down the beach and back to the boat that was to take us to the main island.

Jesse drove me home after we arrived back at Karen’s house in the city. The drive was long and brutal. His eyes were filled with sadness; mine were puffy and swollen. Even makeup couldn’t help me pretend that we had done what was best for both of us at that point in our relationship. He helped me carry my bag into the house and paused as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Issy, tell me you’ll wait for me. Just tell me that this won’t be permanent. I’m willing to take the time to figure this out, but I don’t want to lose you.”

“Give me something to make me wait. Tell me that I’m part of your two-year plan. Change your goals to accommodate me!” I cried. Did I even have a right to demand this of him?

“That’s not fair. You know I can’t!”

“That’s what I thought.”

I turned my back to him and walked up the stairs to my room.

Betty came over that evening after she called the house and Mellie informed her that I was not taking any calls. She burst into my room and found me in bed in my mismatched pajamas with my bangs clipped back, holding a box of Kleenex.

“Wanna know why you suck?” She plopped herself down on the left side of my bed.

I sniffled and shook my head.

“Because you’re the only girl I know who still manages to look gorgeous despite drowning in your own sea of tears.”

“Oh, Betty, he won’t give her up for me. I was waiting to hear him offer to take a different flight, distance himself from her, anything. I would have found an excuse to accept it and stay. But he wouldn’t say it.”

“Don’t you get it, Isa? He’s confused!”

“He said he didn’t care about her, and somehow I believed him.”

“He doesn’t care about Katrina Edwards. Not her. His primary focus is on his career and his ability to make decisions related to the goals he has set without having to worry about hurting your feelings. He also wants his freedom. He wants to test the waters.” She was telling me to let him go. “Isa, I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it’s going to be, but I’m here for you. We’ll get through this.”

“I love him so much. The pain is unbearable. What am I going to do without him?” I hugged my knees against my chest and sobbed.
“You’re going to live your life,” she said as she handed me my buzzing cell phone.

TEXT FROM ALEX: Are you ok? Betty says you’re back.

ME: Yes I am. Just resting. I’ll call after my nap.

“B, please don’t tell Alex. I’m just so glad he’s back in my life. I don’t want to bring him into this drama just yet.”

“Eeeeeks. I already called him from the car before I got here.”

Good thing I didn’t miss when I threw a pillow and aimed it directly for her head.

The next day, I went to have dinner with my grandparents. I was exhausted from the events from the day before and was trying to find things to do just to keep me busy. My grandmother and grandfather were in the dining room by the time I arrived. I walked up to them and kissed them both on the cheeks.

One of the maids pulled a seat back for me. “Thanks. Iced tea, please.” I took a seat next to my grandmother.

“Isabel, how have you been? Why are your eyes so puffy?”

“I’m just so tired, Grandma. I was at Karen Michell’s beach house over the weekend.”

“With whom?”

“Oh, just a group of friends.” I evaded her eyes as I reached over to spoon a serving of rice on my plate.

“That house was featured in the local edition of Architectural Digest a few months ago. Bobby Mason was the one who designed it.”

Bobby was a permanent fixture in my grandmother’s life. He was an interior decorator who did all of her homes, even the ones abroad.

“It is beautiful, Grandmother. They have a lush orchid garden by the pool area. Just like ours, but I was surprised that they got it to flourish so close to the sea.”

“Yes, Karen Michell’s mother orders them from the same place we do in Hong Kong. Speaking of Hong Kong, Grandpa and I still haven’t given you your graduation present.”

Oh yes you have. You got me my new job.
“Oh my, you have done so much for me, I really wasn’t expecting anything,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Well, your grandfather and I want you to take a little trip for a few days. Get away from here, take a break and clear your head before entering the working world.”

Her personal assistant suddenly appeared out of nowhere to hand me an envelope with cash and two round trip tickets to Hong Kong.

“Go shopping for your new work clothes. Take Betty with you. Have fun.”

“Thank you so much, Grandma and Grandpa. I think I’ll take Alicia with me if someone is available to watch the kids. I haven’t spent any time with her for a while, and I miss her terribly.”

“Let Carol here know whose name to add to the ticket, and she will schedule your flights and hotel when the office opens tomorrow.”

“Isabel, what happened to Jesse Cain?” My grandmother. Never Jesse. Or even that boyfriend of yours. She always referred to his full name. He never did grow on her like I had hoped he would.

“It didn’t work out, Grandma.” My eyes must have reflected the wound in my soul for her to clearly see because she looked back at me with such pity and sadness that it almost made me cry.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. We caught up on my mother, who my grandmother notified me had moved on from her fourth husband to a fifth.

“Grandma, I don’t think she got married. I knew she had met someone else, but if she had gotten married, I would have heard from her by now.”

“Don’t you worry, Isabel. With that mother of yours, it’s only a matter of time before she gets remarried. She should have been named Elizabeth Taylor.”

“A special spark rises from the sorrow of a burning heart. Have you ever heard how the sigh of a broken heart touches the beloved?”

—Rumi

The next two weeks went by fairly quickly. I tried my best to keep busy by planning my days and filling my time up with non-stop activity. The day after I left my grandmother’s house, I received a call from a popular woman’s magazine inviting me to join a pictorial for an article they were going to feature on “Society’s Beautiful Daughters.” It was going to be a photo shoot involving a few girls my age who had mothers who were models or famous socialites in their own time. Luckily, Betty’s mother was also a former model, so we were able to enjoy this experience together. We had quite a lot of fun getting our hair and makeup done, as well as modeling all sorts of outfits for the day of the photo shoot. We rolled our eyes and giggled the whole time, making fun of the seriousness of the photographers and the poses they made us do. In the end, they chose to feature me on the front page, with the other daughters each with their own article on half a page of the magazine. I was proud to say that the picture that was published clearly reflected the way I looked. They respected the fact that I wanted to look simple and without all that face paint. The best part of this whole experience was that Betty and I got to keep the designer clothes we wore for the pictorial that day.