Chapter Fifty-Five
Stella!” my favorite voice singsongs alongside the metal squeak of the swing set. “Stelll-lllaaaa!”
I am six years old, and I am having trouble remembering that I should answer to that new name, Stella.
“Join me on the swings, Stella!”
I am not brave like Daisy. Daisy’s toes touch the sky.
“Trust me, Stella!”
I trust her. I swing.
The swings squeak.
Higher.
Higher.
Higher.
And then I feel it: the moment at the tippy-top where you freeze for an instant, the split second between up-and-forward and down-and-backward. Your stomach feels it first—the drop, the free fall in reverse, the rush of wind arcing around you one way, then another…
Yes, Stella. I see it, too. This moment does feel like the drop of a swing from its highest point.
“Daisy,” I whisper. I droop, and Pax is there to catch me.
I’m dizzy. I retch. Pax scoops me up. Now I’m on the couch. I try to lift my head. I cannot lift my head.
“Nirav?”
“He’s okay.” Pax is sweeping my hair from my face. His hands are cool against my feverish skin.
“Daisy?”
Sleep now, Stella.
I sleep. I am in and out of consciousness.
Once when I wake, Pax is there. He’s holding my hand, but he’s asleep.
I marvel at the fact that he has seen the darkest parts of my soul, watched how close I came to giving myself over to evil, and yet he’s still here.
He’s still here.
On the day I met him, I recall thinking that Pax has darkness attached to his soul. So do I, of course. We all do. The key is to not give in to the dark temptations. The key is to forgive and release and love.
Love, instead.
It is that simple. It is that hard.
I drift off.
Later, I stir again.
“Daisy?” I whisper.
I’m here, Stella. I’m here, but I think you know…
“You can’t stay.” I feel her hug me. I feel her hug me and my heart bursts in bloom.
I can’t stay.