Finding my Wings

~8

        I decided not to go back to Uncle’s after all. Tristan had listened quietly one evening a few days after he took me in, and I explained everything. At first he was angry. So very angry, but not at me. It took me and Maddy to convince him not to storm out the door that very instant and pulverize Uncle for what he'd done to me.

        In a way it made me feel happy that someone could get angry on my account. Afterwards, Tristan sat with me in my room and told me how much he wanted me to stay and wouldn't take no for an answer. He did his best to assure he wasn't like those men on the street, and though I hadn't known him long, I had the feeling I'd already known he wasn't going to do anything like that for quite some time. He wanted me to trust in him as a friend. I’d never been so grateful, yet in a small way I was almost sad. I'd begun to love his smile, and in those moments of weakness, I'd imaging what it would be like to kiss those smiling lips.

        Then came the day I had to meet his mother. It was on the third day of my stay that I met her. Apparently Tristan had spoken to her before and had told her what I’d told him. I wanted to b mad, but he made it easier for me in all honestly.

        “Keira dear, I’ve heard so much about you. Come sit down with me and I can get to know you better.” She had the same kind eyes as Tristan.

        There was a frailness to Mrs. Lancy in the way she moved with such carefulness. Her shoulders we straight but there was a strain in her posture and the grey in her hair seemed out of place on such a beautiful woman. She told me how she’d been sick for quite some time and the results had left her body in this weak state.

        “But I have a strong heart mind you. Mr. Lancy could never keep me still, even on the worst days. Tristan inherited his stubbornness I dare say.” Her tinkling laughter made my heart feel light and I knew what she meant. His stubbornness was almost endearing.

        It was then I learned about Tristan’s father. “He was always a busy-body and one night he’d been working late. He came home and said he hadn’t been feeling good. We can at least accept he was peaceful when he left us that night. Poor Tristan would sneak into my bedroom on night’s after that. I’m grateful to have such a caring and mindful boy like him.” She looked at me then, gently but sternly, “I’ve seen a change in him after he found you. I can only ask you care for him as much as he does for you.”

        I blushed at that. It was true even Maddy had told me she’d seen it. In her words, “it’s in his eyes”. The next time I caught him looking at me I tried to imagine what they saw.

        But even though I was so accepted into this world of luxury and happiness, I couldn’t forget the one I’d only just left behind. One night in particular I woke up in my bed thrashing and crying from a vivid nightmare. It had been Uncle, the first night he’d come for me. But when I’d opened my eyes, it had been Tristan looking down at me. Somehow he had heard me, and he let me lay against his chest until the quavering subsided. He stayed with me that night. He sat on the edge of the bed, mindful of our distance and read poetry to me in the soft lamplight. His voice was as soft and lush as velvet when he spoke the lines.

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          “Tristan.” I spoke quietly when he finished the last line. “Have you ever been in love?”

        Without looking I knew he had his special smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, I have.”

        “What’s it like?”

        “What’s love like?” He paused, my silence a yes. “Love isn’t possessive, or greedy, or selfish. For me, being in love means putting that person above yourself and all you are. I would do anything for them. Be anything for them. It's the best kind of love in my opinion.”

        I imagined his kind of love. It was difficult, but I could. It was warm. Like the touch of skin against my cold cheek. But yielding like the covers I laid in at night, wrapping around me and making me feel like I’m on a cloud. It was a beautiful love. I felt envy over the girl he had given this love to.

        “Thank you.”