Post by Mimi on Aug 18, 2006 11:08:23 GMT -5
“Memory and forgetfulness are as life and death to one another. To live is to remember and to remember is to live. To die is to forget and to forget is to die. Everything is so much involved in and is so much a process of its opposite that, as it is almost fair to call death a process of life and life a process of death, so it is to call memory a process of forgetting and forgetting a process of remembering. There is never either absolute memory or absolute forgetfulness, absolute life or absolute death. So with light and darkness, heat and cold, you never get either all the light or all the heat out of anything. So with God and the devil; so with everything. Everything is like a door swinging backwards and forwards. Everything has a little of that from which it is most remote and to which it is most opposed and these antitheses serve to explain one another.” Samuel Butler
I watch her on the beach, blond hair blowing in the gentle summer breeze. She places one bare foot cautiously into the surf, is if it was fire and would burn her. Squealing, she withdraws her foot and runs up past the tidal mark. The breeze clearly defines her shapely legs as the wind whips the fabric of my favorite red gingham sundress around her. If for just one moment, she is at peace.
I watch, committing every detail that is her to my memory. She stops and bends down to pick up a seashell, exactly what I can’t see from this distance. Bringing it closer to her body she appears lost in thought as she looks at it. I wonder if she’s remembering a shell like this found in a childhood long forgotten. Is she happy?
Suddenly she brings it up to her mouth and gently kisses it. As quickly as she kisses it, I watch in wonderment as she tosses the shell as hard as she can into the depths of the ocean.
Turning, she runs towards the house where she sees me. From the way her face lights up I feel like the luckiest man in the world. How is it possible that I John Black get to experience the amazing love this woman offers? She’s still a couple hundred yards from me, when she looks down shyly, breaking our connection. I have to laugh at this shyness she has suddenly developed over the last two months. Before, my Marlena had no inhibitions, but ever since she started remembering her past, little things that never would have bothered her suddenly embarrass her. I understand that this is part of the healing process for her, that in order to go forward she has to revisit the past. As she discovers who she once was, all those little facets of her personality that she repressed are coming to the surface in surprising and wondrous ways. Each day is an adventure, a gift.
If you’d asked me two years ago if it were possible to love my wife anymore than I did, I would have told you that it wasn’t possible, that everything about her was perfect. I was wrong. This Marlena, my Marlena, is so much more complicated and deep. As I discover more and more about her and what makes her unique, I’m finding that I’m falling in love with her more and more every day.
I see John watching me from the veranda, looking at him, knowing that he is mine still brings butterflies to my stomach. The summer sun has turned his hair a lighter shade of brown that blows softy in the breeze. His deep tan is striking against the white T-shirt and cut off shorts he’s wearing. I still can’t believe that this man is mine. After all this time my heart still skips a beat when I really look at him.
I break our contract, scared of my bodies’ reaction to him. As I sit down in the hot sand and stare at the waves, I wish that I could be the woman he thinks I am. He always used to tell me that I was the strongest woman that he’d ever known. How I wish that were the case. I always imagined what it would be like to be that woman, but know that she’s not me. I’m not her and I will never be. I am me, flaws and all.
I pick up a handful of sand and stare at it, mesmerized by the uniqueness of each grain. Smiling, I realize the similarities between John and the sand. Each grain is individual and unique, no one like the other. Separately, they are inimitable, combined with others they make something amazing. I so desperately want to be part of that beach, part of John, but there are so many other things pulling me away.
As the wind blows the sand through my fingers I try to hold onto a few grains. Looking over my shoulder I see that John’s still in the same spot watching me.
I never wanted to hurt him, but I know that I have. In my efforts to avoid facing what was inside of me all along, I said and did hurtful things not to just John, but to a many of my family and friends.
Would I go back and change the way I did things in the past? Sure, there are a million things I could have done better or differently. I have a lifetime of regrets and always will. But that’s okay. Slowly I’ve begun to accept who I am.
There is a part of me that will always be that little girl who just wanted her mom and daddy to love her. A part of me will always be the wife who wonders deep down why she wasn’t enough for her husband and why he had to seek comfort in the arms of another woman, regardless of the reason. There is a part of me as a mother that will wonder if the choices I made over the years and my expectations somehow created barriers that have prevented my children from achieving their full potential. There is also a huge part of me that will always feel incomplete and wonder what other memories lie below the surface of my mind just waiting for the opportunity to make themselves known.
Most people that have suffered from the type of amnesia that I had eventually recover what appears to be their missing memories and are able to resolve the conflicts that caused the amnesia. However, some people never break through the barriers that prevent them from reconstructing their missing past. I guess that I’m one of the lucky ones. I will always have gaps in my memory, but that’s okay. My memories don’t define who I am, I do. How I live, who I love, that defines who I am.
“Hey pretty lady,” John says to me as he gently places his warm calloused hands on my shoulders. I breathe in deeply, thankful for the contact, his familiar musky scent mingling with the salty ocean smell. Not even needing to turn around, I imagine him smiling, having long ago memorized every detail of his wondrous face.
“What are you thinking?” He asks me as he sits next to me in the hot sand. I stare sheepishly at his tanned legs, the memory of them wrapped around mine in passion last night still on my mind. Nervously I look up at him. “Just how much I love you,” I tell him truthfully. His face lights up in a smile and I am grateful that after everything that we’ve been through that he’s here beside me.
“Love you too,” he tells me as he leans over and kisses me gently. My heart skips a beat as I stare into his blue eyes for the nanosecond before my eye lids automatically shut and my mouth slightly parts waiting for that connection. As his lips touch mine in the tenderest of kisses, I have to remember to breathe. Breaking the connection he takes my hand in his.
“I spoke with Shane a little while ago.”
Words are not necessary. He knows my fear; he senses it as I grip his hand a little tighter. He slowly strokes his thumb on top of my hand, trying to reassure me that everything will be okay. Although his touch helps, he will never be able to alleviate my fear.
“I just want to go home John…I just want to see my children, my babies,” I tell him. I’m not begging or pleading with him, I’m just stating my true feelings. In the two months we’ve been in seclusion Shane has managed to smuggle us two pictures of the babies and one of Belle, Sami and Carrie. Noah and Rachel are making good progress but are months away from being strong enough to survive out of the hospital.
“I know baby,” he tells me, as he grips my hand for support. I know that the separation from our children is as hard on him as it is on me. “I spoke with Sami a little while ago…” I smile at the mention of my baby girl.
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
“Great…She just got off her shift with the babies at the hospital and was on her way to eat dinner with Carrie. Belle has the afternoon shift and Roman is at work.” I smile at the image in my mind but am also jealous that the four of them get to spend precious time with my babies that I’ll never get back. “I don’t think that we’ll ever be able to repay Sami and Roman for all that they’ve done.” John was stating the obvious. When they were called on to perform their duties as the twins godparents they didn’t hesitate, each stepping up and embracing the role. Furthermore, Sami, Roman, Belle and Carrie each took shifts at the hospital, sitting with the twins, talking to them, holding them.
“Did you tell her that I love her and miss her?”
John laughed. “Of course…we did a good job with her Marlena, a good job….I was a little worried for a couple of years, but when I look at her now…she’s so much more mature…And Belle and Carrie…Wow…they’ve both been doing a fantastic job running Basic Black in my absence….Kate has also been a help as has Victor.” John senses me tense up as he mentions Kate. As hard as I’ve tried, I cannot get the image of him making love to her in my bed out of my head. Rationally I know all the reasons behind it, I’m just not at a point where I can accept what happened, forget it and move in.
“You are the one that I love,” he tells me tenderly as he places his head on my shoulder. “I love you…only you.”
I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his hair as the wind blows it softly against my cheek. I love this man.
“Will we ever be able to go home?” I softly ask, as I open my eyes and stare at the ocean before me. So many miles separate me from my children, my life and my home.
“Someday.” I know it’s the best answer that John can provide me with. Too much is happening in Salem; too many people are looking for me, hunting me. John doesn’t know that I’ve seen the flyers that are offering a bounty for my capture. To tell him that I know would only cause unnecessary angst and I can’t do that to him. So silently I pretend that we are on a mini vacation, just waiting for the word that everything is right in the universe and that we can go home.
As I lean my head on Marlena’s shoulder, I breathe in her scent. As long as I am living I don’t think that I’ll ever tire of smelling her, touching her, tasting her. She is my drug. Someday we’ll go home, I’m just not certain of when that will be. Shane tells me that there is an international manhunt for Marlena, the current bounty 20 million US dollars. I would gladly pay that and more for all this to end and for President Owens, NSA, DEA, Secret Service, Interpol and the FBI to leave us alone.
President Owens. To this day Marlena won’t speak of him and his involvement. I still don’t know much more than what Shane told Roman and I the night that he arranged for Marlena to leave the United States. I’m still not sure how he arranged for her escape, our escape, but I’m incredibly grateful. Who those men were that came and got her, I’ll never know. I’ll always remember the terror I felt in the hours that we were separated thinking that I would never get to see, hold or love my wife again.
I’ve tried to get Marlena to talk about her past, hoping that it would be therapeutic for her in a way not to have to carry this burden, but she won’t open up to me. She won’t talk to anyone about the past. Whatever is inside her head has her scared. I’ve seen the crime scene photos so I know the final images of her past that her mind holds, just not the events leading up to these pictures.
“Are my parents okay,” she asks as she stares down at the sand. I see a lowly tear as it makes its own path slowly down her face. She’s once again trying to hide how she feels. “Yeah, Shane managed to connect me with Frank on a secure satellite channel for a couple of minutes…They were brought in and interrogated once again last week by the FBI and Secret Service…” At the mention of the FBI she drops my hand, stands up and runs away.
“Marlena,” he yells as he follows me down the beach. “Marlena.” As I run away from him, I’m not sure entirely what I’m running from. I don’t want him to see me like this; I don’t want him to see my fear, my pain.
Quickly catching up to me he places his hands on my shoulders to stop me. “Marlena, it’s okay…It’s okay.” No it’s not and never will be, but I can’t tell him that.
“You can’t promise me that John, you can’t.”
“And I won’t. The only thing that I can promise you with utmost certainty is that I love you and will never stop loving you.” My back is still to him and I can feel his warm breath against my neck. I stare down at the sand between my toes and wiggle them, watching the sand as grain by grain slides between my digits. John reaches his forearm around my collarbone and pulls me tight to him. “I’m here for you Marlena…When we took our marriage vows I promised you in front of our family and friends that I would love you until I die. I meant that then and I mean it now more than ever…” I smile at the memory of John reciting our marriage vows …and I can promise you that I will love you until I die. I'm going to be a good husband to you... I am going to honor you, I am going to protect you... I am going to care for you and I am going to make your cares my cares. I'm going to make your sorrows my sorrows, and by damn I'm going to make your triumphs my triumphs. And I'm going to grow old with you. In love and joy and all the great stuff life has to offer…..until death parts us. Although I believe him a part of me questions not the sincerity of the words, but the motivation. How is it possible for someone as wonderful as John to love the likes of me?
“Marlena,” John tells me as he turns my body around to face him. I know he wants me to look at him, but I’m not ready to. Sometimes it’s too much for me to look him in the eyes, the enormity of the love, faith and trust lingering behind those blue eyes in me overwhelming.
He cups my chin and lifts my head.
As my rough fingers touch the soft skin of her chin, I need to see her eyes, need to see the acknowledgement of my love. Her eyes are more green than brown right now as the rays of the afternoon sun hit them. There is so much that I want to tell her, so much that I want to talk with her about, but we have the rest of our lives for that. Right now, I’m content to just be in her presence.
God do I love her. Marlena used to always use an expression, “You can never step into the same river in the same place twice. The river's always changing. The same is true with love. As people, we grow, and we change, and love does too, whether you separate for a while from the person, or you stay and ride out the hard times.” I would always laugh, for the phrase reminded me of a Garth Brooks song. Never has that expression been more relevant than it is for me right now. Although I have regrets about the way I treated Marlena over the years and about the way that my own personal quests came at the expense of time with her, most of all I regret not being there for her when she needed me most.
Taking her into my arms, I hold her tightly to me. So much has happened, so many trials and tribulations. I wouldn’t change a thing in our past, knowing that our lives are better left to chance. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I look out at the ocean before me, feeling melancholy.
“If you could change the past would you?” Although I wouldn’t change the past I fully expect that she would. Changing the past would bring Eric back to us. As it stands, ISA has no idea where he is, only that he was brought in for questioning by the FBI and never seen again. I had Shane get in touch with the Dimera family and left them know that Julie Dimera was in fact Marlena Evans Black. I would have loved to have been a fly on that wall when that sick fuck Stefano realized that his queen of the night was his own niece. However, Marlena being a Dimera has had its advantages. The Dimera’s have been actively searching for Eric ever since and have been providing around the clock protection for the rest of my family.
I can sense her body thinking as she contemplates my question. The muscles in her fingers grip my t-shirt a little tighter, her eye lashes fluttering against my neck.
“No.” I answer him, pulling away from him and looking up at him, feeling brave. “John, I wouldn’t change anything in the past, as painful as it was…Every moment, every conversation, every whisper, every touch has led us where we are now…changing one instant could have changed the whole course….I am happy where we are…I am happy with you.”
As I watch him looking down at me, tears glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, my heart swells. This is what I know to be true. No matter how hard I fall, John will always be there to catch me. He is my constant. He is my star. He is my everything.
“If I fall John, will you be there to catch me?” I ask as he slowly moves his mouth towards mine.
“Always.”
The end.
I watch her on the beach, blond hair blowing in the gentle summer breeze. She places one bare foot cautiously into the surf, is if it was fire and would burn her. Squealing, she withdraws her foot and runs up past the tidal mark. The breeze clearly defines her shapely legs as the wind whips the fabric of my favorite red gingham sundress around her. If for just one moment, she is at peace.
I watch, committing every detail that is her to my memory. She stops and bends down to pick up a seashell, exactly what I can’t see from this distance. Bringing it closer to her body she appears lost in thought as she looks at it. I wonder if she’s remembering a shell like this found in a childhood long forgotten. Is she happy?
Suddenly she brings it up to her mouth and gently kisses it. As quickly as she kisses it, I watch in wonderment as she tosses the shell as hard as she can into the depths of the ocean.
Turning, she runs towards the house where she sees me. From the way her face lights up I feel like the luckiest man in the world. How is it possible that I John Black get to experience the amazing love this woman offers? She’s still a couple hundred yards from me, when she looks down shyly, breaking our connection. I have to laugh at this shyness she has suddenly developed over the last two months. Before, my Marlena had no inhibitions, but ever since she started remembering her past, little things that never would have bothered her suddenly embarrass her. I understand that this is part of the healing process for her, that in order to go forward she has to revisit the past. As she discovers who she once was, all those little facets of her personality that she repressed are coming to the surface in surprising and wondrous ways. Each day is an adventure, a gift.
If you’d asked me two years ago if it were possible to love my wife anymore than I did, I would have told you that it wasn’t possible, that everything about her was perfect. I was wrong. This Marlena, my Marlena, is so much more complicated and deep. As I discover more and more about her and what makes her unique, I’m finding that I’m falling in love with her more and more every day.
I see John watching me from the veranda, looking at him, knowing that he is mine still brings butterflies to my stomach. The summer sun has turned his hair a lighter shade of brown that blows softy in the breeze. His deep tan is striking against the white T-shirt and cut off shorts he’s wearing. I still can’t believe that this man is mine. After all this time my heart still skips a beat when I really look at him.
I break our contract, scared of my bodies’ reaction to him. As I sit down in the hot sand and stare at the waves, I wish that I could be the woman he thinks I am. He always used to tell me that I was the strongest woman that he’d ever known. How I wish that were the case. I always imagined what it would be like to be that woman, but know that she’s not me. I’m not her and I will never be. I am me, flaws and all.
I pick up a handful of sand and stare at it, mesmerized by the uniqueness of each grain. Smiling, I realize the similarities between John and the sand. Each grain is individual and unique, no one like the other. Separately, they are inimitable, combined with others they make something amazing. I so desperately want to be part of that beach, part of John, but there are so many other things pulling me away.
As the wind blows the sand through my fingers I try to hold onto a few grains. Looking over my shoulder I see that John’s still in the same spot watching me.
I never wanted to hurt him, but I know that I have. In my efforts to avoid facing what was inside of me all along, I said and did hurtful things not to just John, but to a many of my family and friends.
Would I go back and change the way I did things in the past? Sure, there are a million things I could have done better or differently. I have a lifetime of regrets and always will. But that’s okay. Slowly I’ve begun to accept who I am.
There is a part of me that will always be that little girl who just wanted her mom and daddy to love her. A part of me will always be the wife who wonders deep down why she wasn’t enough for her husband and why he had to seek comfort in the arms of another woman, regardless of the reason. There is a part of me as a mother that will wonder if the choices I made over the years and my expectations somehow created barriers that have prevented my children from achieving their full potential. There is also a huge part of me that will always feel incomplete and wonder what other memories lie below the surface of my mind just waiting for the opportunity to make themselves known.
Most people that have suffered from the type of amnesia that I had eventually recover what appears to be their missing memories and are able to resolve the conflicts that caused the amnesia. However, some people never break through the barriers that prevent them from reconstructing their missing past. I guess that I’m one of the lucky ones. I will always have gaps in my memory, but that’s okay. My memories don’t define who I am, I do. How I live, who I love, that defines who I am.
“Hey pretty lady,” John says to me as he gently places his warm calloused hands on my shoulders. I breathe in deeply, thankful for the contact, his familiar musky scent mingling with the salty ocean smell. Not even needing to turn around, I imagine him smiling, having long ago memorized every detail of his wondrous face.
“What are you thinking?” He asks me as he sits next to me in the hot sand. I stare sheepishly at his tanned legs, the memory of them wrapped around mine in passion last night still on my mind. Nervously I look up at him. “Just how much I love you,” I tell him truthfully. His face lights up in a smile and I am grateful that after everything that we’ve been through that he’s here beside me.
“Love you too,” he tells me as he leans over and kisses me gently. My heart skips a beat as I stare into his blue eyes for the nanosecond before my eye lids automatically shut and my mouth slightly parts waiting for that connection. As his lips touch mine in the tenderest of kisses, I have to remember to breathe. Breaking the connection he takes my hand in his.
“I spoke with Shane a little while ago.”
Words are not necessary. He knows my fear; he senses it as I grip his hand a little tighter. He slowly strokes his thumb on top of my hand, trying to reassure me that everything will be okay. Although his touch helps, he will never be able to alleviate my fear.
“I just want to go home John…I just want to see my children, my babies,” I tell him. I’m not begging or pleading with him, I’m just stating my true feelings. In the two months we’ve been in seclusion Shane has managed to smuggle us two pictures of the babies and one of Belle, Sami and Carrie. Noah and Rachel are making good progress but are months away from being strong enough to survive out of the hospital.
“I know baby,” he tells me, as he grips my hand for support. I know that the separation from our children is as hard on him as it is on me. “I spoke with Sami a little while ago…” I smile at the mention of my baby girl.
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
“Great…She just got off her shift with the babies at the hospital and was on her way to eat dinner with Carrie. Belle has the afternoon shift and Roman is at work.” I smile at the image in my mind but am also jealous that the four of them get to spend precious time with my babies that I’ll never get back. “I don’t think that we’ll ever be able to repay Sami and Roman for all that they’ve done.” John was stating the obvious. When they were called on to perform their duties as the twins godparents they didn’t hesitate, each stepping up and embracing the role. Furthermore, Sami, Roman, Belle and Carrie each took shifts at the hospital, sitting with the twins, talking to them, holding them.
“Did you tell her that I love her and miss her?”
John laughed. “Of course…we did a good job with her Marlena, a good job….I was a little worried for a couple of years, but when I look at her now…she’s so much more mature…And Belle and Carrie…Wow…they’ve both been doing a fantastic job running Basic Black in my absence….Kate has also been a help as has Victor.” John senses me tense up as he mentions Kate. As hard as I’ve tried, I cannot get the image of him making love to her in my bed out of my head. Rationally I know all the reasons behind it, I’m just not at a point where I can accept what happened, forget it and move in.
“You are the one that I love,” he tells me tenderly as he places his head on my shoulder. “I love you…only you.”
I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his hair as the wind blows it softly against my cheek. I love this man.
“Will we ever be able to go home?” I softly ask, as I open my eyes and stare at the ocean before me. So many miles separate me from my children, my life and my home.
“Someday.” I know it’s the best answer that John can provide me with. Too much is happening in Salem; too many people are looking for me, hunting me. John doesn’t know that I’ve seen the flyers that are offering a bounty for my capture. To tell him that I know would only cause unnecessary angst and I can’t do that to him. So silently I pretend that we are on a mini vacation, just waiting for the word that everything is right in the universe and that we can go home.
As I lean my head on Marlena’s shoulder, I breathe in her scent. As long as I am living I don’t think that I’ll ever tire of smelling her, touching her, tasting her. She is my drug. Someday we’ll go home, I’m just not certain of when that will be. Shane tells me that there is an international manhunt for Marlena, the current bounty 20 million US dollars. I would gladly pay that and more for all this to end and for President Owens, NSA, DEA, Secret Service, Interpol and the FBI to leave us alone.
President Owens. To this day Marlena won’t speak of him and his involvement. I still don’t know much more than what Shane told Roman and I the night that he arranged for Marlena to leave the United States. I’m still not sure how he arranged for her escape, our escape, but I’m incredibly grateful. Who those men were that came and got her, I’ll never know. I’ll always remember the terror I felt in the hours that we were separated thinking that I would never get to see, hold or love my wife again.
I’ve tried to get Marlena to talk about her past, hoping that it would be therapeutic for her in a way not to have to carry this burden, but she won’t open up to me. She won’t talk to anyone about the past. Whatever is inside her head has her scared. I’ve seen the crime scene photos so I know the final images of her past that her mind holds, just not the events leading up to these pictures.
“Are my parents okay,” she asks as she stares down at the sand. I see a lowly tear as it makes its own path slowly down her face. She’s once again trying to hide how she feels. “Yeah, Shane managed to connect me with Frank on a secure satellite channel for a couple of minutes…They were brought in and interrogated once again last week by the FBI and Secret Service…” At the mention of the FBI she drops my hand, stands up and runs away.
“Marlena,” he yells as he follows me down the beach. “Marlena.” As I run away from him, I’m not sure entirely what I’m running from. I don’t want him to see me like this; I don’t want him to see my fear, my pain.
Quickly catching up to me he places his hands on my shoulders to stop me. “Marlena, it’s okay…It’s okay.” No it’s not and never will be, but I can’t tell him that.
“You can’t promise me that John, you can’t.”
“And I won’t. The only thing that I can promise you with utmost certainty is that I love you and will never stop loving you.” My back is still to him and I can feel his warm breath against my neck. I stare down at the sand between my toes and wiggle them, watching the sand as grain by grain slides between my digits. John reaches his forearm around my collarbone and pulls me tight to him. “I’m here for you Marlena…When we took our marriage vows I promised you in front of our family and friends that I would love you until I die. I meant that then and I mean it now more than ever…” I smile at the memory of John reciting our marriage vows …and I can promise you that I will love you until I die. I'm going to be a good husband to you... I am going to honor you, I am going to protect you... I am going to care for you and I am going to make your cares my cares. I'm going to make your sorrows my sorrows, and by damn I'm going to make your triumphs my triumphs. And I'm going to grow old with you. In love and joy and all the great stuff life has to offer…..until death parts us. Although I believe him a part of me questions not the sincerity of the words, but the motivation. How is it possible for someone as wonderful as John to love the likes of me?
“Marlena,” John tells me as he turns my body around to face him. I know he wants me to look at him, but I’m not ready to. Sometimes it’s too much for me to look him in the eyes, the enormity of the love, faith and trust lingering behind those blue eyes in me overwhelming.
He cups my chin and lifts my head.
As my rough fingers touch the soft skin of her chin, I need to see her eyes, need to see the acknowledgement of my love. Her eyes are more green than brown right now as the rays of the afternoon sun hit them. There is so much that I want to tell her, so much that I want to talk with her about, but we have the rest of our lives for that. Right now, I’m content to just be in her presence.
God do I love her. Marlena used to always use an expression, “You can never step into the same river in the same place twice. The river's always changing. The same is true with love. As people, we grow, and we change, and love does too, whether you separate for a while from the person, or you stay and ride out the hard times.” I would always laugh, for the phrase reminded me of a Garth Brooks song. Never has that expression been more relevant than it is for me right now. Although I have regrets about the way I treated Marlena over the years and about the way that my own personal quests came at the expense of time with her, most of all I regret not being there for her when she needed me most.
Taking her into my arms, I hold her tightly to me. So much has happened, so many trials and tribulations. I wouldn’t change a thing in our past, knowing that our lives are better left to chance. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I look out at the ocean before me, feeling melancholy.
“If you could change the past would you?” Although I wouldn’t change the past I fully expect that she would. Changing the past would bring Eric back to us. As it stands, ISA has no idea where he is, only that he was brought in for questioning by the FBI and never seen again. I had Shane get in touch with the Dimera family and left them know that Julie Dimera was in fact Marlena Evans Black. I would have loved to have been a fly on that wall when that sick fuck Stefano realized that his queen of the night was his own niece. However, Marlena being a Dimera has had its advantages. The Dimera’s have been actively searching for Eric ever since and have been providing around the clock protection for the rest of my family.
I can sense her body thinking as she contemplates my question. The muscles in her fingers grip my t-shirt a little tighter, her eye lashes fluttering against my neck.
“No.” I answer him, pulling away from him and looking up at him, feeling brave. “John, I wouldn’t change anything in the past, as painful as it was…Every moment, every conversation, every whisper, every touch has led us where we are now…changing one instant could have changed the whole course….I am happy where we are…I am happy with you.”
As I watch him looking down at me, tears glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, my heart swells. This is what I know to be true. No matter how hard I fall, John will always be there to catch me. He is my constant. He is my star. He is my everything.
“If I fall John, will you be there to catch me?” I ask as he slowly moves his mouth towards mine.
“Always.”
The end.
