My Mistake ⌲ River Phoenix

23; the end

It has been 5 years since Rio and I finally got together. We are both 28 now, and married, yes. I know it probably sounds crazy, but I finally found the person I wanna be with. We got married 3 years ago.

It's crazy to think that it's already 1998. I remember like it was just yesterday meeting Rio at THE HARDBACK CAFE 10 years ago. I knew the feeling he gave me was everlasting the moment I met him.

We had a kid last year. It's a boy. His name is Asher. However, he looks just like his dad. Rio looked over at me with a smile. He knew I was staring at him.

"You've got a real staring problem, you know," he chuckled. I smiled at him. And this time - a real smile with all my teeth. He's been seeing my real smile since we got together. I guess you could say he brought the best out of me.

"You sound like my sister," I teased. He smirked at me and kissed my forehead.

We sat in bed in the early break of dawn. Baby Asher was fast asleep, and we had finally found some peace and quiet. His naturally nervous hands held mine close to his chest - to feel his beating heart.

We both lit a fire in one another. It was great, it was magnificent. My life started to make sense again - and I had finally been able to love. Now, I don't want to get too sappy, but I'm happy. Real happy.

However, you're probably wondering how everyone else is doing. Although Rio and I got a happy ending, not everyone else did.

Olivier is still the same - his love life more fun-loving and frivolous than ever. He's got a new boy-toy every week, and he seems to be striving. He moved back to Paris recently - I think he's got a job as a male model or something, I'm not too sure. Since I got pregnant with Asher life got a little hazy.

Jo moved back to Connecticut, her and Bill started a family of their own. They are only about 2 hours away from Rio and I, so we try to make it a plan to visit every month or so.

As for Carmen, she's been doing as well as she can be. She hasn't dated since Asher, which I think is sweet, but incredibly lonely. She lives on her own in her house in Nashville. She says she could never leave that house - that it reminds her too much of Asher. I can't blame her, though. And, through it all somewhere, deep down inside, I still feel like it's my fault.

Rio and I visit her every year on Asher's death date. However, it's obvious that she's grown accustomed to being alone. Ultimately, we had to respect that. She's got two cats now - two siamese kittens, sisters.

When I sit and really think about those 3 I start to miss them, a lot. But, that's the trouble with our world... one I find quite frankly, a masterpiece of the misunderstood. As for the wise words of Holden Caulfield, "Don't tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."

"What are you thinking about?" Rio asked, breaking my train of thought. I looked at him and just smiled, traveling my gaze down to The Catcher in the Rye book he had given me for Christmas years and years back. It sat in my dresser always - inadvertently finding itself popping up in random places every other day.

"Everything. All at once," I giggled. He rolled his eyes playfully. He knew I've always got something going on in my head. He tells me all the time I should be a writer instead of an artist. But, then I remind him how art pays the bills - not writing... not my writing anyway.

"How about we let your mind take a break for once," he said as he pushed himself off the bed and walked toward the window. He looked out and observed the bustling streets down below.

We got a penthouse apartment in New York City, just right smack in the middle of Manhattan - which coincidentally, is walking distance to Spanish Harlem. He likes to say that one should always be close to their roots. We argued about it for a little until he said this:

"I could never separate you from the very thing that makes you, you. Your art defines you - it makes you unique. Don't ever let it go. Hold onto it the way I held onto you at that airport the night you left."

Rio walked over to my record player, shuffling through my immense record collection. He was very circumspect in his decision... and when he did come to a decision, he chose to play a sweet little song off of Elton John's Honky Château album. He smirked. That type of ruggedly handsome smirk that etched lines around his cheeks.

"It's your favorite song..." I trailed off, reminiscing the night Rain had dropped that subtle hint that Rio had been thinking about me. And how defining the moment we had at the Louvre was. Hey, but maybe "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" is our song now. It's quite fitting if I do say so myself.

"May I have this dance?" He asked me, extending his arm out to mine. I nodded meekly as my body folded into his.

And now I know
Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow
In New York City
Until you've seen this trash can dream come true
You stand at the edge while people run you through
And I thank the Lord
There's people out there like you

We, once again, swayed to the music of the moonlight - except this time we were together. Things had finally worked out for the cynical word in which I lived in. He was my muse, my meaning. The bright, beaming color in an otherwise dull, monotonous world.

"You know, I'm so glad you decided to get me a new apron that night at the Hardback... Throughout all those years, it was if I wasn't truly living until I met you," I started, as he tightened his grip around my waist. "I'm so glad... that you waltzed into my life like that. I don't know what I'd do without you... And I..."

"And you what, my lady, Amoreena?"

"I thank the Lord there's people out there like you."

THE END