Forbidden hearts, p.28
Forbidden Hearts, page 28
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn't want to give you false hope. I didn’t believe it myself until it happened.”
She leaned away just enough to touch his face with wonder. “It’s over?”
He nodded. His face had grown weary and wise, but behind wire-rimmed glasses his gentle eyes glimmered. Dark, salted curls fell in disarray over his creased brow.
“Tío Eduardo!” Carlotta rushed in. He stooped just in time to catch her and pull her up into his arms.
“You remember me?”
“Mami showed me your picture.”
He set her down and straightened the long strands of black hair that draped over her shoulders. “Did she? My, what a lovely young lady you are.”
Carlotta smiled demurely, then looked to her mother.
“Mami?” said Carlotta with timid respect.
Ana was startled from her thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
With a small laugh, Ana said, “Yes. Why don’t you go outside and play for a while?”
Carlotta’s dark eyes flashed as she started to frown. Ana gave her a look. With one last glare, Carlotta looked down and left.
“She looks like him,” said Eduardo.
“She’s strong and stubborn like him, too,” Ana said with a laugh.
His lips widened, hinting at a smile. He wasn't the same man who’d appeared at her doorstep a decade ago. There were small things. His shoulders were broader. Threads of gray lightened his dark tousled curls, but his eyes were different. The bright zeal of his youth had given way to forbearance. Yet the passion was there, not completely obscured by his years of confinement.
“What will you do?”
“It depends. Some friends in Canada have asked me to join them.”
“It’s so far!”
“I can write anywhere.”
“I know. I just thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
He studied her as he quietly said, “I didn’t say I was going.”
“Don’t,” she suddenly urged. Then softly she repeated it. “Don’t.”
“It’s been so long. I wasn’t sure.”
He took hold of her hands, studying them. “You’re not married?”
“Did you think that I could?”
“I wanted you to.”
“Did you?” She cast a skeptical glance.
He offered no assurance.
Her words rushed out. “Stay here and teach. You can still write, and you’d still be changing minds—tiny minds that will grow and may someday change the world. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”
“What I’m used to?”
“I mean, it would be different. But we’d be here together.”
He peered earnestly from behind his wire eyeglasses. “Ana—”
Ana found she’d been gripping Eduardo’s lapel. She released her grip and withdrew her hands gently. She took a step back. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair to ask.” Her eyes darted from his fixed gaze and sought someplace safer to settle. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Sometimes I just say things.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s been so long.”
“Ana.” He took her face in his hands and he took in every feature, the moist eyes that met his, then pressed his lips to hers. “Yes,” he said, and then kissed her again.
“Yes?” She lifted her eyes, apprehensive from having endured for too long without hope.
Eduardo said, “Yes, I will.”
Ana found herself gripped by emotion. Her eyes shut to hide tears. She struggled for a long moment, then lifted her chin with feigned cheerfulness. “You’ll stay and teach. Good.”
With a suddenness that caught her off guard, Eduardo took her face in his hands and said, “And I will marry you, Ana.” His words burned with the fierce passion of days past, when his ardor could only find voice in his zeal for his country.
A light unbidden sob came from her throat as Ana surrendered herself to Eduardo’s enfolding arms. Was this joy? She had been so long without it.
“You will?” She was certain, and yet she looked up for assurance.
Eduardo’s eyes warmed as he nodded and studied her eyes and her brow as he kissed it, and her cheek. And her mouth.
Carlotta’s sweet laughter rang out from the schoolyard. Eduardo slid his hand down to Ana’s and clasped it. Together they walked hand in hand down the steps of the school to Carlotta.
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J.L. Jarvis is a left-handed opera singer/teacher/lawyer who writes books. She received her undergraduate training from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and a doctorate from the University of Houston. She now lives and writes in New York.
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