TRACES OF MEMORY

by Paula

It wasn’t a day for restoring a table or another chair; it wasn’t a time for feasting together in the dining chamber or chatting in Father’s library.

It was a moment when sparks of anger and disappointment hung in the air, and regret and sadness nearly suffocated him.

Our ship never arrived; we were supposed to have a house with a garden and a pool, and a bunch of kids; instead, there’s an icy void where my heart should be, and the need to escape from the world Above.

Cullen had lived so long without the other half of his heart, and when the pain of longing dragged him into the darkness, into the abyss of utter silence, there was only one remedy left, a carved box made of linden wood – his gift to mark the beginning of their life together.

His trembling fingers traced the two engraved hearts. He lifted the lid, feeling the sting of loss.

With a misty gaze, he wandered among his treasures: a modest engagement ring with a barely visible red stone, the most beautiful to her… A gentle smile played across his lips as he recalled her joyful “Yes” when he knelt before her…

A few tears fell onto the smooth, thin wedding rings lying beside it, not the purest form of gold, but the purest love with which they wore it, a promise, devotion.

Touching them, he felt a power, a mysterious energy flowing through his fingers and reaching his heart; there it spread with a pleasant, soothing warmth – a precious, fragile moment; it was Betty who looked after him, encouraged him, and soothed his pain; he felt as if a ray of sunlight were caressing his face.

The space filled with golden light, calm amidst the stormy waves; with his eyes closed, he whispered, “Thank you, my love, I will find the strength, and you will be proud of me…”