Secrets? Never.

Epilogue

"Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity." - Henry Van Dyke

Daniel Grayson had been alone for many an evening, so at this point, it was mere water off a duck's back to the old man. He bore an indurated expression as he stared blankly at the television screen, its images throwing a dim light over the dark room. It was odd to him; that room being dark. It was usually so bright, and sunny; just like Emily had been for much of the time he'd known her. If someone had asked him to picture the ground floor of the beach house, dark, he'd have drawn a blank; given that, on any normal night, even the glow of the moon would've eclipsed that of the television, many times over. But then again, this was no ordinary night. There was scarce little moonlight, no wind, so the sheer white curtains were resigned to hanging limply at the ends of the curtain pole, instead of the usual wind-infused frenzy of movement to which he'd grown accustomed. All was quiet. All was eerily still.

He had long since removed the things that had made the house very much Emily's; the wind chimes that erupted into song every time a seabreeze blew in (which was a regular occurrence to say the least); the sheer white curtains had been joined, and thrust into disuse by heavy blinds that precluded any and all opportunities the sun had of showing its face inside the house; the doors, which many would remember as being perpetually open, were more often than not, shut tightly with the burglar alarm enabled.

He glanced over at the little wooden cabinet, which sat then where it always had; next to the couch on which he himself had become ensconced. His line of vision then came to rest on the photo. That damned photo. The one thing that could make him actually feel something; something other than pain and longing; which was no easy feat. The only other thing in the world that brought him joy anymore was his family. His children; his grandchildren. No, their children; their grandchildren. They wouldn't be here if it weren't for Emily. Oh, that goddamned picture.

A pang of sadness seared through him, coming to settle in his chest. It felt like he was being crushed on the inside; like someone had a grip on his heart, and wasn't about to let go. It pulsed and intensified, growing and building, growing and building, pushing against his ribs. Smashing them open, like C4 had been detonated beneath his ribs. That damned picture.

Which is when she appeared, some ghostly apparition. Unmistakably Emily; it was almost as if she'd stepped right out of that damned picture. She donned a long, white gown, her golden hair clad in a veil, which didn't obscure her face though. He still saw her dark brown eyes; he'd never in his life seen darker eyes on another human being. He still saw her lips, twisted into a smile; that beautiful smile that could convince anyone to do anything. He still saw her cheeks, little freckles dotted them ever so slightly; her cheekbones leading gracefully to her lips, like two synchronised divers, jumping off of the high dive together.

She looked at him, still smiling that charming smile. He rose from his seat, taking her hand as she led him to an open space behind the couch, in the middle of the beach house's ground floor. He hummed the melody of a slow song as they danced; much as they had done on their wedding day. He looked at her smiling, and felt himself do the same. His face erupted into a mad grin.

All of a sudden, he looked down, and he was wearing a suit. The suit he'd worn on his wedding day; complete with the little white flower on his lapel. He and Emily spun, and they were no longer in the beach house, he was no longer an old man, and she was no longer a ghost. They were yet again at their wedding reception, there were, however, no guests. Just the two of them, dancing and dancing; the only two people in the world.

"Come with me" she insisted, tugging slightly on the hand of his she had, held in her own not letting her facial expression drop. It was like some sort of perma-smile. Not the fake smile to which he'd grown accustomed; a genuine smile, which appeared, to his recollection, when their children had been born. It was the kind of look that told him that she was completely, blissfully, happy. Daniel smiled a little wider, and nodded, spinning her around once more, before her head came to rest on his once again youthful shoulder, and he bent down to kiss her ghostly lips.

An elderly Daniel's humming ceased, first slowly, then all at once; and his breaths grew softer and slower until; they stopped, and he breathed no more. His hands went limp, and his heart came to a standstill. He had been carried off into the night, his wife on his arm, and a song in his heart. He grew nearer and nearer to the light, until, it enveloped him completely, and he could see nothing but her; before all of him, and all of her faded into the white that surrounded them, and all that remained of their love, was her smile, and his eyes, gazing lovingly at her, most sincere smile.

The next morning, when Danny came to pick him up, he found his father, sitting on the couch. The television was on; there was a framed photograph in his father's hands; and he was smiling. Danny took the photo from his father's cold hands, and turned it around; to see one of their wedding photos. It always had been his father's favourite, and the one from which he'd learned what his mother looked like. They stood, with their arms around each other. She looked lovingly at him, but he had his eyes on her stomach, and his left hand there too. 'Isabella' he thought 'favourite from the beginning.' His father's face couldn't properly be seen, but his mother's was in full view of the camera. She looked like Sophia.

It made Danny so happy to see that his father and mother were together once again. His father had done what he'd had to do here on this earth. His purpose had been to see their children grow up; and, now that they had, he was finally free to be with his mother, and they'd finally get to be infinite together.

In Daniel Grayson's last earthly moment, he brought to mind something that Emily had once said about happiness not being a destination, but rather a feeling that came and went, and how wrong she was; because he was finally there, with her.

© Sarah Egan 2014 - 2015. All rights reserved. This story is subject to copyright and may not be copied or reproduced without the express permission of the author.