Chapter 25
Several weeks later.
James turned the key in his ignition killing the engine of the car, and turned his eyes to the cast iron gates of the park. It looked eerily quiet like there was no one around but he knew it was because it was noon, and most people would be indoors.
He pulled the key from the ignition and popped the car door open. Stepping on the asphalt, a cool breeze danced by sending a chill through his spine. He tugged his coat tighter around his body and tucked his keys into his pocket.
He eyed the olive-green Bugatti he came with. If Mariah was here, she would have dropped a comment about his colorful choices in automobile, but he hadn’t seen her in months.
Months ago, after he had heard from Dr. Vishram that she had been discharged, he had tried to see her. At work she had refused to see him. He had tried going to her apartment, but she hadn”t let him see her, even when he knew she was there. He even tried to get to her by attending her church, but she evaded him. Then Greg had advised him to let her breathe for a little while.
It took him a few more tries, before he decided to let her breathe. One day led to a week, and he had to go to Japan for a work trip. He had stayed longer there and started his annual summer trip early. Instead of touring a European country, he chose Japan and Korea, with Greg and some of his college friends.
On his annual summer tour, he sent her every memorable picture and video he took. He got no responses though.
After his trip, he had returned to DC and immersed himself in his role as the successor of Ore. His father had made an official declaration when he returned, which caused him to go on tour again, but this time it was to visit every Ore HQ in the world.
There was an Ore HQ in sixty-three countries in the world and he flew to make his visits. His last visit had been to Ore HQ in Burma in the last fourthy-eight hours. Immediately after he had flown back home intent on contacting Mariah.
Since he couldn’t see her, he had sent messages, asking for a chance to see her. He had gotten no replies even though it appeared that she had read them. The fact that she had seen them gave him a sliver of hope that she would speak to him one day.
Now he was back and he felt a slow grating on his sanity knowing he couldn’t have her near, couldn’t see her, couldn’t talk to her—it was all very frustrating.
With one last look at his car, he strolled into the park. The grass was as green as ever, meeting the bright blue sky at the horizon. Lazy puffy white clouds floated through the sky blocking the bright rays of the sun now and then.
It looked and felt like the same old park he had been coming to since he was a kid. The only thing that showed change was the trees. They had changed with the season.
As he walked, he spotted a few people sitting on benches, hidden by the colorful trees. A young lady was walking six small dogs. She walked past, being dragged by the dogs, and gave him a small smile.
Closer to his destination, he met a group of elderly people doing yoga. They called to him to join them but he laughed their offer off and walked past the bench where their personal items were held.
He walked taking a path by the edge of the woods towards one of his favorite stargazing spots. As he got closer, he noticed someone was already standing there. He slowed and observed the person.
It was a woman. She was dressed in tan work trousers and a maroon chiffon shirt that almost matched her red hair. Her hands were in her pockets and she was gazing up at the leaves of the tree.
James knew that hair and stature anywhere. He schooled himself not to scream her name in glee or burst into happy laughter. Instead, he moved slowly to stand behind her.
She never once turned to acknowledge someone walking up to her. He walked until he was close enough to be heard by her before saying, “When I woke up this morning, I didn’t think I would meet you here—” he watched as she turned, with a gasp.
Typical Mariah, he smiled, always lost in thought.
He continued, “I thought I’d meet you somewhere fancy. I was planning on being on my knees with flowers and a box of chocolates and a string quartet singing your—our—favorite song.”
Mariah’s brow furrowed and her eyes flicked up and down his figure from behind her glasses. It made him wish he had dressed better—more eye catching. He was in tan khakis, a grey shirt and a tan coat, that kept the cold air away with its fur lined collar and hood. The hood was off though, and his new haircut was on display.
Back in Korea, he had cut his brown curls closer to his scalp at the back, and at the right side of his head. His curls were still very well defined on the left side of his head. He kept them glossy and away from his eyes with gel. He had let his beard grow out a little too.
It had transformed his look completely. He knew Mariah would have walked past him without recognizing him. Many people had done so already.
“James,” Mariah muttered. “Hi,” she looked away from him, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Her hand went to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ears.
He watched her hand tuck the strand behind her ear and his fingers in his pockets curled. He smiled and shifted his gaze to a branch of the oak tree nearby laden with russet leaves. “It’s so good to see you,” he said when the urge to brush back the stubborn curls of her hair died down.
“It’s so good to see you too,” she whispered but the wind carried her voice to him.
They stood in silence watching the leaves dance on the branches. He had so much to tell her but words stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to reach out so badly and hold her in his arms but he couldn’t—he wouldn’t force her into his arms. All he would do was cast glances at her.
Her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly open. Her slender neck was tilted at such a lovely angle, it made her cute button nose stand out. He drank in every feature of her beautiful face and looked away when her eyes fluttered open.
“Mariah, I’m sorry, about everything,” he finally said when she turned to look at him. Her gaze tore at his heartstrings, begging him to lay down everything he owned in exchange for her.
He continued, “I’ve had enough time to think. I shouldn’t have forced my—” the words were hard for him to say because deep down he knew she was Anastasia, but he said the words anyway, for Mariah’s sake, “—obsession about Anastasia on you like that. It was a selfish thing I did and I’m sorry. I truly am. If you could only forgive me and we could start all over again.”
Mariah stared at him, her features unchanging, letting out no sign that she was contemplating what he said. Her usually emotional face was blank and James’s heart sank. She looked away from him and his hopes sank even more.
“I don’t need you to be anything or anyone you are not,” he said, willing her to look at him but she didn’t. “I found you extremely beautiful from the first day we met at the restaurant. I thought you were the most intriguing person in the world when we ate pie at the gazebo. I enjoyed your company. I felt like I was missing out on something whenever you walked out of the room.”
All through his speech, Mariah didn’t look at him even once and for the first time in a long time, he felt a lump in his throat the size of a walnut.
“So, Anastasia or not, I want you in my life. I need you in it,” his voice broke and he stopped talking for fear that he might shed a tear at the intense sadness that gripped his soul. The heavens must be cruel to give him another shot at happiness only to rip it out of his hands.
“I…” Mariah said with a soft voice in the wake of his silence. “I remembered things—memories from my past, I think.”
James eyes widened at her words and his mouth felt open. “Really?” he asked, closing the space between them.
Mariah nodded and a small smile began forming on her lips. “It came in bits and pieces as dreams and sometimes, when I space out during the day. I saw a woman with hair just like mine—my mum,” Mariah’s voice broke and her eyes welled up with tears. “And my dad. I remember him too. He was a good baker,” her tears fell and she rubbed them off with her sleeve. “I remembered you too. You’re Jamie. My sweet, confident Jamie,” more tears fell at each word. Each tear that fell down her cheeks made his heart ache and it took all his willpower to not hold her so she would stop crying.
James didn’t know his eyes were full of tears too until they dropped, wetting his cheeks. “Yes, I am Jamie. I was Jamie to you and you alone,” he half laughed and half cried and with each word his restraint broke. He pulled her into his arms, damning the consequence. “Oh, Anastasia,” he sobbed. She fit perfectly in the curve of his body, her head resting on his chest and his arms enveloping her in a bear hug. “I knew it… I just knew it.”
“Oh Jamie,” Mariah sobbed into his shirt. She felt limp in his arms, trembling with each tear. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t remember you.”
“Shh,” James cooed, “it’s okay. It’s not your fault,” he felt his tears already drying up, and he wiped their trail away from his cheeks with his hand.
“But it feels like it was,” Mariah cried. “How could I not remember you. Since I last saw you, I found some of my relatives. Nine sisters. The Abraham sisters. All redheads like me. And another cousin Morgan and her daughter Christie. If the Singers hadn’t found my real grandparents and matched our DNA, I would have never believed you.”
James nodded as she spoke. He had no idea the Singers had gone through such length to prove to Mariah was actually Anastasia Chandler. He had a feeling Veronica had had a hand to play in this. Underneath all her looks and pomp, she actually had a heart of gold.
Mariah whispered, “I should have trusted my feelings and believed you, but I didn’t.”
“Don’t say it like that,” he pleaded. “You were under a lot of emotional and mental stress. If I were in your shoes, I would have slapped me and then proceeded to beat me up with a stick. You didn’t beat me up, now did you?”
She responded, “Only because I fainted,” he felt Mariah chuckle and broke their hug. Standing at arm’s length he saw her smile, “same old Jamie. Always trying to diffuse the situation with a joke.”
“I never really changed,” he replied, his heart bubbling with joy. “Well not technically, I grew up, with more height and muscle. I even got a beard, but I never changed. I still feel the same way I did towards you back then. Actually, even more now.”
Mariah stared at the ground as he spoke but he saw the blush creep into her face and heard the question she never uttered.
“I like you, Mariah,” he made it a point to use her new name. “I always did and well, the feeling has morphed into something more, something deeper, and from my heart, it got to my brain. Now all I think about is playing the game called ‘she loves me she loves me not’. What if nine out of ten times, it said she loved me not?”
Mariah laughed and he placed a hand underneath her chin, lifting her face. His gaze met hers and he felt goosepimples erupt in his skin and electricity passed through him starting from the points where his skin met Mariah’s. She trembled and he knew she felt it too.
“I always wondered if I asked you, what would your answer be,” he said, feeling tension rising. “You love me? Or you love me not? I know my answer. I love you, with every brain cell I have. By the way you helped make my cells smarter. I loved you as Anastasia, and I love you even more as Mariah.”
“Jamie,” Mariah breathed. “I… I feel a lot of things towards you and with my memories coming back, I’m working towards understanding the feelings.”
“Then let’s work at understanding them together. At this point, I don’t even want you to remember anymore, especially if it puts your health in danger. You didn”t need to force yourself to remember the past. Let’s make new memories together. You can have a family. Maybe not the one you have wanted, with parents and maybe siblings.”
Mariah smiled and hugged him tightly. He relished the feeling of her arms around him and a goofy grin found its way onto his face. When she broke the hug, he saw a similar grin on her face. “Shall we seal our new found deal with a promise? That you agree to walk this path with me. Some people call it dating, we’ll call it memory making. It would be the most fun we ever had. And if you still find me a worthy partner after a few months… I intend to makes memories with you for life. So how about a sign?” he asked.
In response, she nodded, eyes bright with glee again. “I’ll give you a sign.”
“But what kind of sign?” He asked curious.
“The strongest kind,” she answered, leaning towards him.
He understood her message completely. Since he was twelve, he had thought of kissing her. He had lost her, found out she was missing, could not forget about her. Only for her to show up years later, more beautiful than he had ever thought she would be, and offering him a kiss.
His hand on her chin pulled her face closer, and the other hand wrapped around her small waist, afraid she might run away again. “You sure?” he asked and she nodded closing her eyes. His hand left her chin and he finally brushed strands of red hair away from her face. His hand went lower, brushing her soft cheeks and he felt her tremble under his touch.
Leaning down, he placed feathery kisses on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks. With each kiss, he thanked God for bringing her back, and when his lips found her soft wanting ones, he kissed her softly once, praying she didn’t fade away.
Then he kissed her again, but this time with a little more force, praying that she loved him, as much as he loved her, forever.
THE END