View From Heaven

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 34 (v.1) - Epilogue

Submitted: May 04, 2008

Reads: 164

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Submitted: May 04, 2008




Cecily had once heard someone use the word surreal to describe an experience; she was unsure of the exact meaning at the time, but she was wise beyond her years and could at least speculate. She took it to mean something like actually being in a moment, but feeling more like it was watching someone else go numbly through the motions, as if it weren’t really, well, reality.

Kneeled on the hard stone floor, staring up at the tall, ominous pulpit her father had once occupied—now dark and devoid of life—Cecily felt her existence was anything but surreal.

Today, on the twelfth anniversary of her father’s death, the summation of her short life appeared in front of her eyes with such crystal clarity. The journey here had by no means been a simple one, however. Year after year, trial after trial, hardship after hardship, it had been the excruciating task of fitting together the tiny, fractured pieces of a million piece puzzle. Now that the final piece had been placed, now that the picture was complete, she understood that every tear, every heartbreak, every ounce of pain was never once in vain.

It all led her here.

Real was the warm, golden summer light which, when it emerged from behind clouds and struck the stained glass windows, splintered into a hundred different colors splashed across the sanctuary.

Real was the warm hand on her shoulder, startling her slightly from her peaceful meditation, until she identified her intruder. Real were his deliciously soft kiss in the crook of her neck and his even more delectable scent.

“For so many years, Cecily,” Jamie began, willing her eyes to desert the object which had held them captive, gently coaxing her chin to face him as he took a knee beside her. “For so long I’ve watched you experience your life while I sat out in the stands. Some of it I’ve seen has been good—great even; some of it, I can only imagine, was a living nightmare. I can imagine because, bearing witness to those hard times without being able to offer even the least bit of comfort—that was no easy task in itself.”

“Believe me; I know that you are more than capable of caring for yourself. I’ve never known someone as strong as you, Sissy. To think I, a grown man, could barely cope after a ridiculous divorce I—“

Jamie choked off mid-sentence, and let his chin fall against his chest with a self-loathing snort.

“I can’t even pull this off without mentioning my divorce. Real smooth, Jamie. I…”

Cecily clutched one of Jamie’s hands, balled so tightly into a fist his knuckles grew white. His head shot up again, but his tightly knotted fingers refused to relax under her touch.

“Jamie,” Cecily spoke anxiously. “What is it?”

Jamie’s chest expanded and fell at a greater rate now and he licked his lips in great agitation.

“Cecily, I know there is no humanly possible way I can be there for you every second of every hour of every day. I know that I can’t protect you from every single harmful word that comes your way or guarantee you never feel sadness ever again; but I can try. I want to try. I need you to allow me to try.”

His gaze fell to the fist which had remained clenched while he spoke. Finally he released his fingers slowly and Cecily retracted her own hand, suddenly aware of a tiny object resting in Jamie’s grasp. She was bewildered at first by the round shimmering object nestled in his palm, but when she understood Cecily cried out uncontrollably and slumped from a kneeling position to sit on the ground.

Real was the diamond ring, the stone glittering brilliantly in the sunlight which Jamie took gingerly between his fingers, trembling uncontrollably as he offered it to Cecily. His eyes were pleading with her before his mouth ever uttered the words.

“I need this Cecily, I need you to say ‘yes’ to this one thing, I…” Jamie’s voice became choked with overwhelming emotion. “I need…you. I always have. Marry me.”

Cecily cried out first in laughter, and then poured uncontrollable tears, followed by more laughter.

“Of course, Jamie,” she could only whisper as she took his wet face into her hands. “Yes…yes…yes, yes, yes…”

Real was the cool, silver band slipped effortlessly onto her finger and hugged it perfectly as if it had belonged there, and by his hand, all along.

Real was the kiss they shared between tears and laughter that lingered through the twilight and carried them into the darkness of evening when at last they exited the church, hand-in-hand in silent, perfect contentment.

Real, Cecily thought to herself with almost uncontainable joy. Thank you, God. It was all so wonderfully, beautifully real.

This story directly cited the following works of Virginia Woolf:

The Death of the Moth, and other essays (Chapter 1)

The Lighthouse (Chapter 12)

The Voyage Out (Chapter 19)

Jacob’s Room (Chapter 26)

Also cited:

“The Ballad Of The White Horse: 04 - Book III: The Harp Of Alfred” by G.K. Chesterton (Prologue)

© Copyright 2018 Megan Maydell. All rights reserved.