Tiffany

“I’m sorry, I am spent guys. That’s all I have for Tiffany’s story. It wasn’t glorious or breathtaking. It was simply gory and experimental. I am not proud of my work there Detective. Hers is the hardest story to tell though. It takes a lot out of me and I really need to go to bed.”

Tiffany wasn’t exactly beautiful. She was blonde. I didn’t really care much for blondes. But her eyes intrigued me. They were the same green I used to see when Lily laughed. I once wondered if they twinkled when she suppressed her laughs. Her whole face should have lit up when she laughed, but it didn’t. Tiffany was fake, but why? What was the point in false pleasantry? It made no sense.  Tiffany would still be smiling had she not been in our coffee shop. She would still be thriving had she not smiled at me with those twinkling green eyes. Tiffany would still be alive had she not dropped her scarf on the counter stool beside me. Tiffany would not be lost to her family had she not tried to be imitate her. I loved her so fucking much. I loved her with every fiber of my being and Tiffany invaded that. I could not stand to let that continue.

 “Per your deal Silas you must give us a location for every story you are allowed to tell. That is the only way this whole freak show continues,” Detective Dan reminded me.

Detective Dan was the quiet one, but I trusted him the least. He had cold eyes and a face that showed little to no emotion. A soul devoid of life and love. The only time I saw him flinch was when I told them the story of the first death. The one that started me on this road of grief and a vengeance against myself in the end. “And as per my deal detective,” I spat that last word like a piece of rotting fruit from my mouth, “I will give you your location after I decompress. And in order to do that I must sleep. Come and get me after breakfast and you will have your location.” I crossed my hands and rested my arms on the table. My shoulders slumped as I dropped my head to rest it on my arms. I sat that way for some time in silence.

“Get up son. Let’s go to your cell then.” This from the detective I couldn’t quite read, nor could I remember his name. He seemed to read me just fine though and had a comeback for every single fact I gave them. “But first tell me why Tiffany’s story is the hardest one for you to tell?”

At the break in silence I looked up. The detectives exchanged curious glances at what they saw. My cheeks were soaked and tears still streamed from my eyes. “I loved her so mu…” I trailed off and dropped my head on my arms again. I collapsed under my own weight or else the sobs deflated me. No one would ever say for sure.

When my hazel eyes made contact with her grey ones all of the craziness of the world disappeared. There were no voices. No sneers. Only her, the girl with peace in her gaze and love in a smile. The one who had me so hypnotized I bumped into the counter and dropped my coffee. I watched her lovely smile turn to an O of surprise and sheer instinct made her grab for my cup in a desperately failed effort to save it from spilling down my leg.

“Oh no! I am so sorry,” she exclaimed as she grabbed a handful of napkins and absently started cleaning up my mess.

“Oh yeah?” I looked at her lovely freckled face and chuckled at my clumsiness, “How dare you pull a counter in my way and knock my coffee out of my hands! You said fuck his coffee and fuck his legs too?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at me and, my god, that laugh made all of my embarrassment totally worth it. Her whole face lit up like a fall sunrise. The deep, but sweet sound was like no other in this world and it was music to my ears. Her eyes instantly turned to such a sparkly green I thought she had emeralds there instead of pupils.

I tried to grab some napkins from her hands, but she jerked away from my fingers and dropped the whole bunch in front of me. It was like she thought my touch was going to burn her. I stole a glance at her face and saw the pink spreading across her delicate skin from behind her ears.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny. I should not have laughed.”

 Why did that almost scared statement make her lovelier? “I made a joke; you were supposed to laugh.” I was trying to sound reassuring, her sudden nervousness was concerning. “I would have been heartbroken had you not laughed.”

The corners of her mouth began to turn back up. It was life changing for me. I knew then I wanted to help her smile just like that for every single day I had left on this earth. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her right ear revealing a tiny ear with a huge hole lined with pink silicone. I suddenly wanted to run my lips down the ivory that was her ear lobe. It looked cooling to the touch. I was not sure where that idea had come from. I have never wanted to do that to anyone, much less a total stranger.

“Oh it was genuine, you earned that laugh,” she finally relented on a giggle. She had perfectly shaped cheeks that had a most adorable chubbiness to them. But the winning feature was the dimple in her chin. It got deeper the closer her smile got to her ears. I wondered if the skin there would feel like a smooth stone if I rubbed my thumb across it.

“Thank you for making my day,” I held out my dry left hand, hoping my heart would not drop all the way to my toes if she actually took my proffered hand.

She wrapped her cool, thin fingers around mine. There was an instant relief from my demons and those trembling fingers in my hand stilled. We looked up at each other as we both felt it. Calm and ease. She gave me an instant ease of mind, body and soul. The fires in my soul died away when our gazes locked. Her eyes began to turn blue around the edges and she slowly pulled her hand from mine. She half turned toward the door and gestured to the parking lot, “I really hate to run out on clean up, but I have to get going. I cannot be late today.”

She picked up her own cup with her left hand and gave me a half wave with her right as she walked to the door. She stopped with her right hand on the door, turned around with a huge grin blazing in her eyes and said, “You should probably watch out for those stray counters from now on. I hear they are some tricky little fuckers.”

I actually laughed. How long had it been? I shook my head, too long. “I will. Thank you.” I raised my empty cup at her in a toasting fashion.

And then she was gone, speed walking to a little tiny Ford that seemed absolutely perfect for her. I stood there, dumb, watching her unlock her door and toss her giant purse into an empty passenger seat. She looked back at me when she had to get back out and grab the coffee cup she had forgotten on the roof of her car. She smiled when she caught me staring.

I was either too lost in my own thoughts or just lost watching her leave that it took me a minute to realize she had left her scarf on the stool by the now clean counter. I picked it up and jogged out the front door. I was just in time to see her pull out into the road, off to her own life. I walked back in. I ordered a new coffee. I tried to turn the scarf in for the lost and found hoping she would come back to get it from the last place she had it. I didn’t even know her name. Why did I not ask her when we shook hands? Did I at least tell her my own name? Hell I couldn’t remember anything except those eyes and how they changed colors when she laughed. And that glorious laugh still rang so loud in my ears I didn’t think it would ever stop. I was strangely okay with that.

“Mr. H,” Ashley, the barista’s voice pulled me from my thoughts again, “you’d have a better chance catching her in the morning when you come in. You are both here around the same time every morning.” She shrugged as most barely legal girls did these days when they couldn’t figure out why you didn’t think of that instead of wasting their time.

Had I seen her in here before? I have the same cup of coffee, at the same counter, at the same time, seven days a week. Was I that enclosed on myself that I had missed her before?

“Thank you Ashley. Do you happen to know her name?” I realized the scarf was a lovely tan color that matched her grey eyes and even matched the green that came later. It was made of some soft and thick wool. I wish I had seen her wearing it. I folded it neatly and placed it gently in the top of my backpack. I caught a quick sniff as I zipped the bag back up. It smelled so sweet and familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

“Yep,” she nodded, “it’s Lily.”

A Lily.

I lie in my tiny bed, in my tiny cell and let my memories keep me from truly resting. I often wonder what I did that day to get so lucky. My life was never the same. From that day I no longer retreated to my own thoughts. I had a reason to stay fixed in reality. I had a reason to really live. Amazingly, from that day I had her. And she had me, all of me and all I brought with me. It never scared her. She never cared why, only that I ran from her and the peace she offered me. I gave her a purpose too. She just wanted to save me. She only wanted me to feel wanted and needed. It seems we were truly designed for each other. We helped each other. We held each other through every tough day. We loved each other through every desire to end it all. We knew there would be no way we could ever live a single day without the other one.

The life we had, the life we could have now had she not made the choice she made. She was a hidden beauty. It went far deeper than the surface. She loved with absolutely everything she had in her soul. She wanted everyone around her to feel loved and safe. She gave me that, my safe place was her. I tried to give her everything her heart desired, but it was never enough to save her. I failed her and the truth of that has shattered my soul.  How did she not trust me to make her happy? She was truly my better half.

Then she was gone and I lost what little tether I had to reality. I lost my grasp on separating my thoughts from the voices that came back stronger than ever before the day Lily died.

My Lily and that beautiful tan scarf.