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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1228356-Hurt
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Emotional · #1228356
A tale of love lost.
H*U*R*T



         It hurt. It hurt and she did not know why. She had never even met him. And here she was, alone and cold, sat on a bench in the middle of Central Park, crying over him. He was gone. She would never know what he truly felt for her, and she could never tell him. She was Ms. Yareli Bright, twenty-six and a divorced florist, who had found the man she would love forever, and she would never tell.
         It had started only a year ago, when her husband had left her. Perry had said he was sorry, that he had loved her, but, just didn’t anymore. He did, however, love Janiyah, and had proved it by marrying the woman only a week after the divorce was finalized. Yareli had been distraught. She had locked herself away from the world for four days, even refusing to talk to her best friend, Darwin, who had invited her to stay at his apartment with his partner Scott. They bought her food, and some days she would venture out to collect it from outside her door, on one of her occasional bathroom trips, more often than not leaving half of it uneaten.
         Eventually she had had to leave, to visit the solicitors, to find herself a lawyer for the divorce. She had been interviewed and they had agreed to assign her a lawyer, and would contact her soon. She had left Minnesota that week. She had lived there all her life, but she could not stand it any longer, so she moved to New York City.
         That was when she had met him. Sebastien. He was her divorce lawyer, but she was told there would be no need to met in person, to avoid the long inter-state journey, and they could do it all by letter and phone. The whole process of the divorce was quick by normal standards, but for Yareli it had seemed to last for an age.
         Sebastien had been so kind to her, and they had become friends quickly. Soon he would call to see how she was doing, and after the case they still kept in touch, regularly writing to each other and with their now ritual monthly phone-call.
         A laughing couple strolling past her bench distracted her attention, and she struggled to suppress a new wave tears. He would have been calling today, in just a few hours. Then they would catch up on all the others affairs, laughing and joking hours away, and both wishing that their jobs would permit them a few days together. They would, they had agreed by post only three weeks ago, meet soon. They were going away together in six months. To the Four Seasons Resort at Manele Bay Lanai in Hawaii. Neither of them had ever been there before.
         But now, that would not happen. They would never meet. They would not be sitting together on the golden sands, or laugh together over a candle-lit dinner in the exquisite restaurant, or hold each other watching the sun set over a shimmering red ocean. The pain redoubled, and she moved her gaze elsewhere, anywhere to rid herself of the thoughts that haunted her mind.
         For a while she tried to loose herself staring at the small pink daisy-like flower on the grass beside her seat, and thinking of the colour of Sebastien’s lips, and how when he smiled his lop-sided smile, his eyes lit up and her heart skipped. She pulled out a crumpled photo from the pocket of her old, denim jacket and looked at his face, a face she only knew from the few photo’s she had of him.
         She felt the tears drying on her face, the salt making her skin feel rough and tight. She did not bother to wipe her face anymore than she did to remove the stray strands of black hair that the winds softly blew into her eyes. There seemed no point. She no longer cared how she looked. It didn’t matter if she looked good or not. Sebastian wasn’t about to walk around the corner, running in desperation to hold her. She could imagine it as clearly as if it were real.
         No, she told herself sternly. Enough. Enough now. She could not spend the rest of her life, moping on a park bench, feeling sorry for herself. She had the business, and that could keep her occupied. But it was a Sunday, and late, so nothing to do there now. She thought of calling Alva, but dismissed it almost immediately. Alva was on a business trip, in California. She would be too busy to trouble with her trivial concerns. She sighed and, mainly for the sake of having something to do, picked herself off of the park bench and headed for Banshee, one of her favourite haunts in years past. Strolling up 73rd street, she passed a classy Italian restaurant and again caught herself thinking of Sebastien. I have to stop this. It’s not healthy. She thought as she neared the pub. He’s gone from my life and there’s nothing I can do about that now. She stopped outside the bar, and looked in through the window, and scanned the busy tables before heading in through the red door.          “Yari??? Is that you?” a smiling woman with hair like a sunburst, all hues of reds and golds, framing a fine oval shape and hazel eyes ran up to her as she stepped in the door and threw her arms around Yareli’s neck in pure girlish affection. “I’ve been trying to call you all day! You didn‘t meet Darwin and me at the Plaza this morning.”
         “Sorry, I’ve been….well….just had a lot on my mind today. Next time, maybe.”
         “What’s wrong?” Yareli looked over Mersey’s shoulder towards the bar, pretending not to have heard through all the noise in the room. “You can’t keep bottling things up like this. Yari?” she took Yareli by the shoulder and led her to the table, where a handsome, boyish looking man in his early twenties was sat. He had black hair, and his eyes almost matched them exactly. This must be Terrell, Mersey’s new partner. Tears again started to prick at Yareli’s eyes and she threw a pleading look at Mersey, hoping not to have to explain. At least not now.
         “Yari? Please. Tell me.” Mersey asked again as she cleared two seats along a bench against the wall so they could sit close together and speak quietly.
         “It’s nothing, honest, Mersey. I…” she trailed off and stared at a half empty glass of Coke on the table in front of them. Her friend was silent and waited patiently for her to continue. She knew she would. They had worked together in the florists since Yareli had arrived in New York, and was only the second person she knew here. Alva was the first, and the three of them were all but inseparable. “It’s too late, Mersey. Sebastien. It will never happen.”          
         Confusion swept over Mersey’s face and she waved her boyfriend off, asking him pointedly to get them all a drink from the bar, despite the table already holding two unfinished drinks. Obediently, sensing ‘women’s business’ he left. Mersey knew all about Yareli and Sebastien, obviously, but last anyone had heard they were still as close as two peas, and showing no signs of tiring of conversation together. She also knew that Yareli loved the man, and had good reason to believe he loved her back, though neither had ever said anything of it to her, let alone each other.
         “Why so worried all of a sudden? You’re not worried about him not liking you again are you? You’re going away together, he agreed. He likes you. And you like him. Why don’t you just admit it? At least to yourself.”
         “No, it‘s nothing like that. I mean, I know I like him…a lot. But that’s the problem. It’s all too late now. I’ll never tell him. I can’t.” at this point the trickle of tears leaking from her eyes changed to a flood.
         “Yari?” Mersey, lost for words at the extent of her friend’s grief, could only sit there and wait for a response she knew would finally tear her friend’s heart in two.
         “I…I got a letter this morning. From Minnesota. It was from Hank, Sebastien’s boss…” unable to carry on she stood and removed a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of her well-worn denims and passed it to Mersey.

         Dear Ms. Bright,
         
         It is with deepest sympathy and regret that I inform you that
Mr. S. Grove was fatally injured in a traffic accident two days ago. I am aware that you were in close contact and that he would have wished for me to inform you at once of this tragic incident.

         My deepest sympathies lie with you at this time.

         Mr H. E. Pote
         Executive Chairman,
         Pote and Sons Solicitors

         Mersey looked again at her friend, and could only guess at the depths of her despair.
         “I…I never told him that…that I…I love… ” sobs of open grief overtook Yareli and clutched at her heart, and Mersey held her friend close to her, trying to take away some of the hurt. But she knew that she could not. She hoped that someday, Yareli would find another love, but she knew that none would ever replace Sebastien in her friends shattered heart.
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