Her Tangled Lover

Marco.

Since this was one of my last journeys, I was hoping it would be fruitful because it was for an international conference. I would be there together with all the other cardiologists from around the world. Throughout my thirteen years of expertise, I have learned a lot, but I have always prioritized a person’s life.

Even though I was a doctor and this meeting was crucial, I really would have preferred to stay at home with Anna. Her birthday was approaching. I didn’t even think I could travel a few days prior, so when the young artist offered to help me, I didn’t think twice. I had the opportunity to attend, and I genuinely believed I would get a promotion. This would change our way of life. All the very best for my Anna and our unborn baby.

I had to admit that flying always made me anxious. I’ve never adjusted to it, and this time won’t be any different. But every time, I overcome my worries by picturing my primary aim. Given that I enjoyed my work and that attending these conferences helped me become a better doctor, I will act accordingly.

In addition, I wasn’t alone. There were a ton of people on the flight. And thinking about my wife and my unborn child helped me to feel better. The first thing I would do when I got back was to hold a large party so that everyone in the neighborhood would know how delighted I was. I still had told no one that I was going to be a father.

I had made the decision that this would be the last conference because I was expecting the birth of my kid. I truly wanted to be involved in my son’s life and do everything I could to support Anna. My parents, who did not even know that Anna would become a mother, posed a significant issue. Even today, I wasn’t sure why they didn’t have Anna’s best interests in mind. Other than marrying the man my mother loved, Anna did nothing to them.

“Hello, this is your captain speaking. As we prepare to take off, we gently ask that everyone fasten their seatbelts! Thank you for joining us, and safe flight!”

We followed instructions because it was our cue to make a safe choice. Even though I hated being restricted, I must accept this. Additionally, this flight would not take very long.

“Is everything okay with you, sir?”

I was trying to get comfy when I heard this friendly voice.

“Oh, yes, I am... I will...” I responded in a trembling tone that I also didn’t recognize.

“You don’t need to be concerned about it! I’ll bring you an enormous glass of water as soon as we take off.” She tapped my shoulder to relax me.

“Thank you,” I muttered softly, focusing my already tense gaze on her.

“You are very welcome, sir!”

We’d been flying for an hour now. I received the water she promised me, so I was fine now. Then my mind drifted to Anna. I pulled my wallet from my pocket while I gazed at her photo. I could see two hazel eyes focusing on me. Three days ago, I didn’t even have a ticket, and I knew I had made a promise to her that I would stay for her mother’s anniversary. I believe I got lucky with this guy because he postponed his show in the US, so I bought the ticket from him.

“Is this your wife?” I heard another soft voice. It was a middle-aged woman, with early signs of wrinkling on her face, who appeared to be a little nervous about flying.

“She is, indeed. Anna…”

“That is a lovely name.” the lovely voice spoke again.

“Thank you!” I said while I shifted position to better see her. Thereafter, the flight attendant arrived with drinks and snacks. We stopped talking about it and had a nice supper. I really needed it.

Another hour went by, so I took a nap since I was getting tired.

I suddenly woke up to a tremendous shock and the abrupt but calm voice of the flight attendant telling us to remain seated and fasten the seatbelts again, since we were about to experience some turbulence over the ocean. As I was nervous about flying, these shakes were so severe and were driving me crazy.

I gently prayed in my head. As soon as panic set in, women and children started screaming at the top of their lungs. When I removed the small window blind, I was terrified to see that the plane was rapidly losing altitude.

It surprised me how composed the woman seated next to me was. She was also in prayer. As I watched her pray, a sinister thought flashed through my mind. We were going to die!

My dear Anna… I wondered what she was doing. Tears were coming down my cheeks, even though I wasn’t aware of them. I felt a sharp pain pierce through my entire being as I struggled to come to terms with the idea that I might never see her again; that she would suffer when they informed her I had passed away; that she would scream when she would realize I had left her all alone; and that she would feel terrible guilt for my untimely disappearance.

When she would have to bury me, or what would be left of me, she would turn into a ghost and a shadow of the person she once was. She would curse this plane until she could no longer cry. She would even curse God for allowing it to happen.

My God, it hurt so much, but at this moment, there was nothing I could do but accept my fate. What sort of destiny was this? Then I thought maybe I could still hear her voice. Was I being too self-centered? As I contacted Anna while concentrating on my phone, all of my courage was gone by the time a lovely voice said, “Hello?” What would I say to her, exactly? That she won’t hear me again after this? That the last song I would hear before I die would be her angelic voice? I was so shocked that I was unaware she was hearing every cry on the plane.

“Marco? Please, Marco, talk to me, baby! What is happening? Why are so many people screaming? Marco?” I knew it was the last time I would ever hear Anna’s voice because it sounded like it was from a dream.

“Anna… I love you,” I whispered to her, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

“Marco, please no, hello? Hello…”

It ended in darkness, which was hot as hell, agonizing as death, and freezing as ice.

ANNA.

I didn't want to learn the name of the anguish. My life was so ruthless and unjust. But who was I to condemn life? I was Anna, or a ghost, or a shadow of her. Because that was all that was left of me now—a walking dead—I wondered if ghosts were alive and breathing.

Life was my expert judge, and it was passing judgment on me too soon. I was prepared to bid my soulmate, who had been my partner for the past five years, farewell. We were so in love when we were young. Age didn't matter in love.

My school was when we first connected. He came to give my class a demonstration lesson. Both the kids and I were giddy with excitement. Throughout the entire session, I kept an eye on this man, this Italian physician Marco De Mayo, who not only captured the interest of my class but also won my heart. Everything went well after that, and love guided our relationship. It was a happy time, and there was only one step left until we were united before God. I adored the man I was with, and I never looked back.

But now, the massive lump in my throat was preventing me from breathing. I was unable to continue because my spirit was in such excruciating pain. Without him, how would I survive? How was I supposed to learn that when my heart, which had always been complete, was now empty and broken in two, a deep dark hole where I was losing myself in?

I had to get ready and head to the funeral home right away. Marco was waiting for me there. I was afraid and terrified to go see him and to stand there staring at his frozen face because he was cold, stiff as stone, and white as marble. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and wore a simple black dress. Emily, my dearest friend, would pick me up. It was quite difficult for me to keep my sanity because my entire being was trembling. A loud horn in front of my house woke me up from my grief daydreaming. I only needed two minutes to get to Emily’s car.

"Hello, sweetheart. How are you?" My sorrowful eyes welled up with tears at the sound of Emily's somber voice and her concern for me.

"Hello, Emily, I'm trying to survive," I said but I was not not sure if I sounded credible.

I've always disliked compassion, but this time the sorrow in her eyes and the agony in her words tore me to pieces that were impossible to mend. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to reconstruct myself or be reborn. I was afraid and by myself.

He was there, motionless but still gorgeous.

He put on a life jacket and prepared for impact in some way. It must have felt like hitting a rock because it was above the ocean. Death gave its final statement. The body was located and collected, autopsied to determine the cause of death, and then cleaned and dressed to make it tolerable to look at.

It was important to me that he was now at peace. And I, how was I? To be honest, I didn't know the answer to that. Perhaps I would never.

Numerous people came to bid me farewell and offer their condolences. I felt like a robotic automaton, controlled yet lifeless, with no memory of the past or the present. This state was referred to as denial. Although I was moving and breathing, my soul was not breathing.

I was supposed to give a speech, but I had trouble getting the words out of my throat. I wanted to cry for help, but no one could hear me, so I sat quietly in my reserved seat in the tiny church, breathing in the scent of incense and pleading with God to help me resist throughout the entire ritual.

I just wasn't able to control my emotions. It was all coming at me like an avalanche, and it was larger than I could take.

“How are you coping, dear?” As she spoke, her voice became shaky. I struggled to grin, but a sharp pain pierced me instead. My mother-in-law was here and asked about how I was feeling. How would I respond to this? To stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks, I looked up. They burnt so intensely that they even caused deep scars in my heart. My throat tightened as my heart rose, but I forced it back down. Why now, when she never gave a damn about me?

"We all need to survive, Carla, including me" With the lie I told her, I could practically hear my heart breaking, and I prayed my suffering was gone and gone forever. I simply couldn't afford that emotion, though.

Saying my final goodbye was the painful, hard part that came next. I had to gather myself before I could go to his coffin. My chest tightened. I stared at him in breathless amazement and uncertainty; everyone was looking at me and feeling sorry for me. I kept telling myself everything would be okay, but my courage started to fade. I sighed deeply as I continued to picture him while lying there as if asleep, despite my tired eyes seeing him. The burden of the situation suddenly fell on my shoulders. Tears started to form behind my eyes.

Six men emerged out of nowhere in the wooden door frame. As they walked into the church, the stillness persisted. They took a quick step in the direction of Marco, and I immediately realized why they had come. The depth of my despair was palpable in my eyes.

The reality finally became clear to me at that point. He was about to give up on me permanently. I was telling myself that nothing in my life would be sufficient if I didn't get over him. I followed closely behind those men, my head sinking into my palms.

His final resting place was right there. How did I become a widow playing this part? Pain was replaced by the anguish of being alone because I was powerless to fight depression. When they moved his coffin to the front and delicately set it down, I fixed my teary gaze on it.

The preacher read a passage. I started crying but didn't notice it until my ribs heaved as if they were suddenly too heavy for me to breathe. In spite of my best efforts to contain my emotions, they continued to fall quietly and slowly down my unmoving face as I stared at Marco's mahogany coffin and bid him a final goodbye.

Under the glare of the sun's powerful rays, the vivid springtime colors were so cheerful. They appeared to be working together to show to me how life would continue without him. The light in my heart had been dimmed forever since he was no longer present. I waited for the funeral service to complete while grieving silently. The loneliness I was experiencing was so overwhelming. My heart was so tightly encircled by the wind's tentacles that I nearly lost consciousness as my mind transformed into an icy abyss.

I dropped my head in despair as I watched the coffin lowered into the ground. I bowed my head in resignation. Goodbye, my love!