Stellina

La Mia Stella

Summer of 1945, Provence countryside, France

The piquant aroma of lavender lulled her into a state of tranquility as she sat on the stony steps of their quaint cottage, overlooking the ocean of purple flowers. Snake-like vines and potted greenery flecked the cream-colored stone that decorated the homes of the little village in the distance. A few early morning passersby rode about on their red bicycles, flying over potholes as baguettes nearly toppled out of their baskets.

A soft smile formed on Lina's lips as she ran her fingers over the faint scars that still dotted her arms, admiring the tan hue her skin had taken on ever since she moved out to the countryside. As she traced over one particular scar, slicing through a freckle, it reminded her of the day she tripped over a stone in the forest, Luka in her arms, as she ran away from the gunshots. It seemed like ages ago, when people were locked up like animals, bombs destroying cities. Yet it haunted her every day, something that she would never forget.

Her fingers moved down to her abdomen, where they ran over the slight bulge in her stomach. Her hands cradled it, her heart warming at the thought of what was inside. It had been an unexpected excitement when she'd found out, a sudden wave of nausea striking her as she had furiously mixed the batter for her neighbor's birthday cake. But it was the unexpected things in life that were the most joyful, as it had always been for her.

With the sun now glaring in her eyes, Lina sighed, tiptoeing back inside their little cottage. She was greeted with the faint aroma of chamomile mixing with cinnamon and warm porridge. Blinking to adjust to the dim lighting, she ran her fingers over the tear in the wall when they accidentally scraped her mother's favorite chair against it while moving in. Once she reached the kitchen, her arms outstretched, wrapping around her husband as he sipped his porridge at the table.

"Good morning, darling," she whispered, stroking his feathery, dark hair. "How are you feeling today?" Grasping the handles of his wheelchair, she spun him around so she could meet his rich, chocolate eyes.

"Well, you're here now, so I suppose I can't be that bad off," Luka murmured, forcing a smile upon his cracked lips. The sorrow lined his eyes still, refusing to fade away like Lina so desperately hoped it would. A single tear formed in her eye as she traced her finger along his cheekbone, accentuated by his still gaunt face. She felt his hand warm her belly as he touched it, eyes lighting up.

"I hope we're doing the right thing, Li," he whispered, still trembling slightly like he always did in the morning. "I don't blame you if you want to leave. You've already done enough Lina, risking everything for me, hiding with me for seven years, not seeing your family for that long. I love you so much, but--"

Quickly shushing him, she drew her hand to his arm, steadying it as she wrapped a blanket around him. "No, I'm afraid you are stuck with me forever, Luka Fuhrmann. I love you, and that's worth more than anything to me. Now, it's time for your morning ride before I go off to work."

Anxiety was knit in his eyebrows as he grasped her hand, squeezing it like a little child might. "Yes, but this baby needs a father, not some..." At this he trailed off, dipping his chin.

Kneeling down, she took his face in her hands, brushing her lips against his. She then lifted his chin so his eyes bore into hers. "This baby will have two parents who love it deeply, and that is all it needs," she said firmly, pushing him out into the sunny morning air. "It took me eighteen years to realize it was all I needed. So now it's your turn to realize that."

Luka nodded, smiling weakly as he rubbed a vicious, glaring scar from the butt of a rifle that still tainted his temple. Lina bit her lip, desperately trying not to think of all the times he would wake up screaming, or how often he'd stumble over his words, or not be able to speak at all, or how he would sometimes tremble violently whenever he was reminded of the wound on his side. It may have been seven years since he was shot, but Lina never was able to heal him completely.