What I Miss About You

Somewhere Only We Know - Ben

I held my umbrella over Natalie.. The rain had started up again as soon as we left the graveside and I ushered her through a crowd of attendees who seemingly were eager to have a word with her about the late doctor. But I could tell she was in no mood to answer questions or even chat with well-meaning colleagues.

We sprinted across the street, my hand on her elbow, just as the light turned, narrowly avoiding the angry horns of drivers and ducked under the eaves of the church. She wordlessly lifted the latch with a look at me and I followed her into the darkened vestibule, carefully closing the umbrella.

Only the altar candles and one center lamp was lit, illuminating the ornate interior with its reliefs and carvings of saints and biblical figures. She sank into the back pew with a sigh and I sat down beside her. She shivered once despite her wool coat and I instinctively slipped my own coat off and placed it around her shoulders, my eyes glued to her. She was looking straight ahead and jumped a little at my touch, then slowly relaxed into the folds of my coat.

"I can't believe he's gone," she said in a still, small voice. Her lips barely moved. "I hardly knew him, but...he felt so big and so much a part of my life. I can't...explain."

I felt for her hand in the dark under the overcoats. "You don't have to, Natalie." I peeled off my leather glove, then hers, so that I could lace our bare fingers together. I squeezed her hand and she looked at me. "I understand."

Her face looked so broken, her eyes swimming in unshed tears, her lower lip trembling. "I...haven't..." She gulped. "I haven't...cried...once."

I could only stare at her beautiful sorrow-filled face, my eyes traveling all over her. Every inch I loved and wanted. I reached up and stroked her long blonde hair back from her face. "I have something for you," I murmured.

Her eyes reflected surprise, interest. "What?"

I reached into the pocket of my suit jacket for the five by seven inch envelope. Pulling it out, I locked eyes with her as I quietly withdrew the contents and handed it to her. She took it, opening the thick white cardstock, then gasped softly. Her delicate fingers went to her lips which were parted in wonder at the image which greeted her.

"Oh...Ben..." she breathed.

Only once did I drop my own gaze to the photograph in her hand, a photograph I had taken myself the night we had met the doctor...one I had looked at a hundred times since. In it, Dr. Heinrich held Natalie delicately in his arms, one hand at her back, the other clasped with hers, whirling her in the Viennese waltz. Her golden hair and the sheer white dress she had worn that night billowed out gracefully. In spite of their obvious motion, the image was crisp and clear and caught both the wonder and happiness on both their faces. I had taken several surreptitiously, but this one was perfect in every way.

It also seemed to open the floodgates for Natalie. "Ben...it's so beautiful. I didn't know you..." Her voice cracked and twin tears fell from her eyes. Her face crumpled and she held the picture to her heart. "Th-thank y-you..." She tried to speak and couldn't, she just leaned into me, clasping the picture to her chest, crying.

She wept quietly, and I simply held her and let her have her tears while the weighted silence of the church sanctuary held us and it's embrace, the flickering candlelight and the muted gray light from outside bathing us in its glow. there were so many things I wanted to say to her, so any questions I wanted to ask her. I thought of the many ways which I had failed her and regretted each and every one, and as I sat there with her tucked safe at my side, I wondered if I would be able to keep my word to her, if I would be able to fix her as I had promised.

Illogically, I wanted to protect her from the world and everything terrible in it. But I knew I couldn't, any more than I could go back in time and erase her traumatic childhood, what had happened to her to make her the woman she was today. I had never felt more powerless in my life.