Guardian [Completed]

Eighteen (Josh)

My favorite room in Devina’s apartment was hers' as well -- the library. It was a medium-sized room with shelves built into the walls. On the far wall, there was a large window with a dark, mossy-green cushioned seat. It was beautiful.

There were books of all sizes, some very old and some fairly new. Devina said she had 40 first editions in her collection of 662 books. I asked if she had read them all and was surprised when she said yes.

Most of the books were in German. The rest were in the other languages she knew. It wasn’t until my second day of browsing that I found a group of about thirty books in English. My chest swelled with pride when I saw the Hunger Games series next to the Harry Potter series. I grabbed the first book in the series to examine it. I was shocked to see a message written inside.

“May the odds be ever in your favor, Devina. Regards, Suzanne Collins.”

“Wow,” I breathed.

“What did you find?”

I jumped slightly and swiveled around to see Devina leaning against the door frame.

“You didn’t tell me about this,” I said, holding up the book that launched my career into superstardom.

Devina’s face lit up.

“Most of my books have messages in them, usually on a removable page. Look at the others.”

I turned back to the shelf and grabbed Catching Fire.

“Devina -- Every revolution begins with a spark. May yours never die. Regards, Suzanne Collins.”

Then Mockingjay.

“You are the face of the rebellion, Devina. Regards, Suzanne Collins.”

I looked up at Devina who had joined me.

“It’s like she knows you,” I said in awe.

She chuckled as she grabbed Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

“More like I know the right people,” she said cryptically.

She opened the book in her hands.

“Remember the Tale of the Three Brothers -- JK Rowling.”

“Wow,” I said yet again.

“Yeah. I’m quite proud of this room,” Devina replied.

I could see it in her face as she ran her fingers over the spine of one of the books.

“So I could open any of these and there would be a message from the author?

“Not always the author. Most of the time it’s from the person who gave it to me. Other times it’s from the publisher. Probably around two-thirds of them have messages. It started with my parents. I ask the giver to write some sort of encouraging words. When I was younger, I really needed it.”

Her voice had trailed off and her eyes had glassed over. I grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“And look at the amazing woman you’ve become,” I murmured.

She choked out a sort of laugh between her tears.

“I just wish my parents could see me now,” her voice faded to a whisper.

I didn’t hesitate to embrace her.

“I’m sure they do see you, Dev. They are so proud, I know it.”

She hugged me tightly and cried. Seeing this incredible woman cry broke my heart. It was a part of her that would never heal no matter how much I loved her.

After a few minutes, she sniffled and pulled away.

“Anyway,” she said as she wiped her tears from her eyes.

“Will you read some of the messages to me?” I asked timidly.

Devina gave me a smile.

“Sure. Pick some out and I’ll read them to you,” she answered.

So that’s what we did for several minutes. I’d pull one off the shelf and she would read it to me in the language it was written and then translate it to English. She would tell me the language and I was starting to pick up on which was which.

But then I seemed to pick a bad apple.

Devina opened the book and faltered. She looked at it for a long moment before reading. It sounded like German.

“What does it mean?” I asked cautiously.

A tear gave in to gravity and splashed onto the page.

“Devina,” she began with difficulty. “It’s hard to believe we’ve been in this relationship two years. Your love gives me strength to move mountains. I am thankful every day to have you in my life. Remember I will always love you. James.”

She shut the book with a snap and the sound reverberated around the room. What do I say?

“What happened?” I quietly questioned.

Devina took a deep breath through her nose.

“James and I met at university and we fell in love. Then I was recruited and after a year I couldn’t lie to him anymore,” she explained.

I wasn’t quite following.

“What do you mean?”

Devina looked at me with sad eyes.

“Keeping my cover. Lying about what I really did for a living.”

“So you can’t tell your loved ones?”

“I’ve told Torin. We are allowed to tell our families but we are strongly advised against it. I couldn’t keep it from Torin though.”

I didn’t know what to say. I don’t think I would ever fully appreciate how difficult Devina’s life had been and still was.

She examined the book in her hand.

“I had forgotten about this book,” she said reminiscently.

“Do you still love him?”

The moment the words left my mouth I wished they hadn’t. She looked up at me in surprise.

“Yes,” she answered truthfully. “I think I always will in some way.”

Before I could say anything else, she reshelved the book and fled the room, wiping tears from her eyes.

I didn’t quite know what to think. I didn’t like that she still had feelings for this mystery man. I wanted her to love me.

But after a moment I realized I now held the key that unlocked the mystery of Devina Friedmann.

She ended this relationship because she felt guilty about lying to her boyfriend. So now, she was not only reluctant to enter into a new relationship, but she felt incapable of receiving love because she didn’t feel like she deserved to be loved.

This revelation made my heart hurt. So much so I found myself crying as well.

I wanted to run after her and tell her it didn’t matter. But I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. In this type of situation, I would have to show her I loved her rather than telling her alone.

So show her I would.