The ultimate moment

Journeys of the heart (Chapter 8)

August was almost on its way out.

Despite the hot weather still, Candy was feeling slightly melancholic every time summer was coming to an end. That meant that winter was approaching and she disliked winters ever since that snowy night in New York.

On her way from the hospital, she was thinking how strange this August had been for her. Her dreams, the stress, the anguish, that night in the festival when she had fainted without any apparent cause...

Terry's accident...

She had to admit that this August was light years different from the August she had imagined in her mind, when she was thinking about the future a year ago.

A year ago, she thought she would have enjoyed a carefree summer, full of happy memories of her and Terry and her friends nearby. Instead, within that last year, her life had turned upside down with everything she knew having changed; she had changed.

Terry and her were no more, Stear had died in the war, and her dear friends Annie, Archie, Patty, and even her beloved Albert had all moved on with their lives. In the end, she too had uprooted herself, had taken apart and had rebuilt herself hundreds of miles away from everything and everyone she knew and loved. She had exiled herself in order to mend her heart, let her pain sink into the pool of oblivion.

The last two weeks though had showed her how close to the edge she still was. Albert's telegram about Terry's accident had knocked the air out of her lungs with unexpected force. But this time she had tried to keep her feet firmly on the ground. She was still feeling somewhat uneasy but she was more relaxed, and her dreams of her running towards Terry had stopped.

Since her fainting incident, she had thrown herself to work; it helped her having her mind occupied, away from painful thoughts. Her mood slowly got better, remembering to smile at the beginning, forcing herself to feel happy. Her success in her quest was modest. Her friend Jon in particular had helped her a lot. He was just standing next to her, without questions, without expectations, only to be close to her, to help her.

She knew since the kiss they had shared that he loved her. She liked him. He was a close friend, dear to her heart. Next to him Candy was feeling calm; he didn't know of her past and she knew a bit about him. He came from a normal, loving family, had a happy childhood, one brother more and one sister.

Nothing out of the ordinary, no dramas, no complications. So she did like his company, it was soothing, like the song of the sirens Odysseus once heard on his quest to find his way back home, back to his beloved wife. They were spending a lot of time together, going for long walks after work, they had the same shifts in the clinic, they were chatting until late at night for all things under the sun sitting down on the stairs of their front door.

Candy was getting near their house; the sun was exiting from the sky while he gathered his sunrays one by one, leaving a deep orange hue splattered all across the sky above her. She was clutching in her pocket a second telegram that Albert had sent her.

Terry had left the hospital; he was well. She couldn't help but feel happiness to those news. Terry was not in danger any more. He would return back to his wife, taking from where he left off. His life was back on track.

"My beloved Terry," she thought, "you will be fine." She half smiled to the thought of him. "I will be OK as long as I know that you keep well." She finished her thought. She could see the house garden now. Jon was outside, watching vaguely in the distance, eating an apple. He seemed preoccupied with thoughts. She opened the gate and came in looking at him while giving him a wide smile.

"Hey there dreamer." She greeted him cheerfully. "Don't tell me you started "mind travelling" also?" She teased him.

"Hey Candy." He replied, his stare to her being one of happiness. "You can't help but let your mind travel when you look at a sunset such as this." He replied as he pointed to the setting sun at the end of the horizon.