Chapter 41
Maya
The apartment is eerily quiet. Not even outside my window does anything seem to move. Since our argument, Elina is hardly ever home. When she's not at the hospital, she's probably spending her time with the firefighter who will inevitably break her heart.
Will she come back to me, then?
I shouldn't have treated her that way. The more days pass in solitude, the better I understand that. She wanted to be there for me, and I didn't allow it. Just like I didn't allow Josh to break through to me again.
My phone signals an incoming message. It's from Josh.
We miss you , it says.
Attached is a picture of him and Sophia behind an oversized birthday cake. The little girl is enthusiastically blowing out the six candles while Josh smiles sadly.
Each additional message from him plunges me deeper into chaos. And this one is no exception. Nothing is in its right place anymore. And somewhere in the midst of it all, I stand. Between longing and doubt, between disappointment and heartache.
"Stop it, Maya!" I say sternly to myself and turn away from the window. My gaze scans my room. Since I returned to this apartment, it feels foreign. Despite the midsummer temperatures, the colorful fabrics, and the playful decorations, warmth is missing. And life. And the many wonderful moments that made me happy during the weeks I spent with Josh and Sophia.
Like scenes from a movie, the most beautiful memories run through my mind. Once again, I see the three of us on the wildly romantic coast of Ireland. I feel Josh's hand in mine, hear him softly sharing his deepest doubts, and smell the scent of his skin. Even though it's wrong, I let the events in the Stockholm clinic unfold before my eyes. In my thoughts, I once again place my cheek on his chest. Right where his heart beats with that infinite strength he so selflessly shared with me. And I sit beside him at the piano, resting my head on his shoulder, surrendering myself completely to his presence.
I must be crazy. Insane. Nonsensical. But I can't stop myself from reaching for the MP3 player that Josh gave me. Because there's nothing else I'd rather do right now than listen to this melody.
He called it the melody of our dreams , and that's what it is. It represents the many things that connect us. And the strength with which we should try to make our wishes come true.
I start the player, and after just a few notes, thick tears stream down my cheeks. Everything could have been good. We could have kissed in the golden autumn light and danced in the November rain. We could have counted the northern lights together in February and let the dandelion seeds fly in May.
It could have been possible. I'm sure of it.
"Stop it. Right now," I say, ripping the headphones out of my ears. Then I clench my fists and pound them on my thighs. This has to end. These thoughts need to disappear.
"It's over, get it," I sternly admonish myself, but that doesn't stop Josh's voice from speaking to me from within.
If you listen deep within yourself and block out everything else, what does your heart say? he asks me, just as he did back in the gazebo of the rose garden.
"I can't do it," I reply once again in the here and now. Because it's the truth. How could I admit that my heart screams a little louder for him with each passing day even though I forbid it with all my might?
Because it's not allowed.
Desperation spreads within me. It feels as if the walls are closing in on me. They are like the conflicting emotions battling for dominance inside me. If I don't act, they will soon suffocate me.
I must do something. But what?
Whenever you stray from the path. And whenever you're lost. Open this music box. Listen to the music. And remember that you are the greatest miracle of all , I suddenly hear my father's voice say. He sounds so loving as if he could never harm me. How does he still manage to give me so much warmth?
With tears in my eyes, I sink onto the bed and open the bedside drawer.
There it is. The music box that is supposed to help me when I lose my way.
I let my fingers glide over its surface. Since his death, I haven't opened it, and it was meant to remain sealed forever. But at this moment, I can no longer resist it.
I am weak, and I have no strength to keep fighting. Just for a moment, I want to feel like I used to and see if the melody truly catches me along with the memory. I want to be with my father. Not just hear his voice but see him as a whole person. I need to remind myself of how his sweater smelled and how the warmth of his embrace felt.
Because deep inside me, since my argument with Josh, I carry a realization. I don't want it, but it keeps pushing itself to the forefront. And I sense it won't go away until I face it head-on.
It's time.
With pursed lips, I reach for the clasp. Accompanied by a bright click, it opens. My body is seized by a sobbing fit. Everything in me trembles, but I force myself to continue.
Slowly, I open the lid. Just a small fraction of an inch more, and it will happen.
My heart pounds in my ears, and beads of sweat mix with my tears. My nose is congested. I can barely breathe.
There it is. The first note.
The little ballerina with her sparkling white skirt amid the pale pink cotton clouds begins to twirl gracefully.
I swallow hard. Then almost automatically, I start humming along with the melody. Just like I used to. And suddenly, I am once again the thirteen-year-old Maya, comforted by the gentle tones of the music box as I curl up in the bedsheets. But the reason for my sadness is no longer Josh. And slowly, it dawns on me that perhaps he never truly was.