Paradise Lost

   Emma stared out the window and tried to memorize the scenery as it passed. She could see the flourishing greenery, but in all honesty, she couldn’t determine any of the details. Not through her tears. She refused to blink or close her eyes all at, knowing that the moment she did the tears would fall without stopping.

   The train’s journey wasn’t smooth and Emma was jostled repeatedly at its sudden lurches. She wished they would reach her destination soon. Only then could she truly leave everything behind. But it was a mind trick. She knew full well that no matter how far she ran she’d never escape her own heart or the fantasies that plagued her mind. Every once in a while she would hold her head in her hands and will herself to be silent for a moment. But there was no silence or safety for Emma. Not when her mind was her enemy. Not when her heart only beat for one reason.

   Her tears finally gathered their strength and slipped over her bottom lid. Resolve gone, she leaned back into her chair, closed her eyes, and sobbed. Whole body, soul-shaking sobs. The kind that turns one into a spectacle, but for once she simply didn’t care. The whole world could be watching and it wouldn’t matter to her. Which was so very unlike her normal introverted, anxious, shy personality. She clutched herself as if there was anything she could do to offer herself the comfort she desperately needed from someone else.

*   *   *

   Juliet stared intently at the scenery. Eyes squinting almost into a glare. Then she dipped her brush back into the vibrant green on her palette. She used it to paint the middle of the eyes of the hazel-eyed woman. The woman was looking deeply into the soul of someone Juliet hadn’t painted yet, searching for something this unpainted person could never give her.

   She felt taunted by her own creation. Wanted to scream “stop looking at me like that!” She also wanted to look into those eyes forever. She wanted to hear the woman’s laugh and hold the woman’s hand. Breathe in the woman’s perfume which carried a bit of spice and reminded her of apple cider. She wanted to prove that no person in all the world knows the woman as she does. Or better than she does.

   Never mind that the woman in the painting didn’t really exist, or that every bitter-sweet moment Juliet had with her had only been in Juliet’s mind. She hoped that once painted, her mind would put to rest its haunting. But now the hauntings were more actualized than ever before, and she knew they would come back viscerally every time she looked at the woman.

*   *   *

   Emma’s sobs had ebbed and she now stared at the infinite, clear blue sky. Her lover’s eyes had been a similarly almost transparent blue, and so complexly infinite that she could’ve looked into them forever. She thought how funny it is that blue can be so warm and inviting yet icy and sharp. How eyes that once felt like coming home can push you out and slam the door shut. How suddenly and quickly it can feel like trespassing to try to breach the gates of a soul you once had the key to.

   The train came to a stop so haltingly that Emma had to steady herself to avoid falling over. Then she grabbed her bag, an overly stuffed small duffle, and threw it over her shoulder as she rushed onto the platform. She knew this place by heart and didn’t even look around as she climbed up the steps to the city. Running as fast as she could through the crowds, Emma fixed her destination in mind and refused to stop or pause for anything until she reached it. Several people shouted at her or gave her dirty looks, but she never flinched or looked back. The occasional empathetic onlooker gave her a look of surprise or pity, but Emma didn’t even notice them.

   It wasn’t until she reached the building she was looking for that she paused. A long pause. She hadn’t called ahead and the apartment building was locked. She put her bag down and rustled through it for a moment before pulling out her phone and dialing. Pacing back and forth in front of the door, Emma grew panicked the longer the phone rang. No answer. She looked up and, for the first time, wondered if she’d made a mistake in coming here. Then she noticed the friendly-looking man holding the door open for her. She grabbed her bag and thanked him as she went in.

   She climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor and was slightly out of breath when she reached the door she’d been looking for. She lightly knocked three times. Nothing. Three more times, slightly harder. Still nothing.

   “Jules?”

   Three harsh raps this time.

   “Jules, it’s me. Please open the door.”

*   *   *

   Juliet was applying the final touches on the woman’s dress, listening to her playlist called “Favorite Tragic Songs”, when she heard a faint tapping. At first, she thought nothing of it. Then she heard it again. In slight irritation, she got up and turned off the music in hopes of hearing a little better. Then she heard the words.

   She flew to the door of her apartment and threw it open. Emma was standing there, looking small, despite her average frame, and desolate. Her eyes were the vibrant green they only become when she’d been crying, and they swallowed Juliet whole. For a moment they simply looked at each other.

   “Come in,” Juliet said, stepping back as she regained her senses.

   “Thanks,” Emma gave a half smile as she walked through the doorway.

   “What,” Juliet paused to find the right words, “are you doing here?”

   Emma turned to look at her and raised her eyebrow in an amused way that almost eliminated the shadows on her face. Evidently, Juliet had not found the right words. She took a few steps forward as if to remedy this error by removing the distance between them.

   “Obviously, I’m super happy to see you. I just thought you’d be with Jack right now.”

   The shadows returned to Emma’s face, and she turned her head away as if she couldn’t stand to look at Juliet. “It’s over. It’s all over. The wedding’s off. Everything’s off.”

   Juliet tried to suppress the flood of mixed emotions that came with the news. For a brief moment, she was free from the crushing weight that plays the role of gravity for her soul, keeping her grounded and spiraling down. For a brief moment, she felt the lightness of hope spiraling her up. Then she knew what she had to do.

   “I’m so sorry, Em. We all thought . . . it doesn’t matter what we all thought. Come here.”

   She led her to sit on the couch and wrapped her in a cradle hug. She knew the exact moment Emma broke, felt her chest hitching with each breath as the tears welled up in her eyes. Then Emma was sobbing into her shoulder as she stroked her hair and rubbed her back. They stayed that way for a while, Juliet laid her cheek against Emma’s temple and closed her eyes. Willing herself to be the best friend that Emma needed her to be right now.

*   *   *

   Emma thought she had cried out all her tears until she felt the safety of Juliet’s arms. She laid in them, curled up like a child, and even though she knew it was time to pull away she didn’t want to. She elongated the moment as long as possible.

   “What did you all think?” She whispered, breaking the silence.

   “What?”

   “You just said ‘we all thought’, so what did you all think?” Emma finally pulled away to look into Juliet’s eyes.

   Juliet nervously nibbled at her bottom lip, a quirk of her’s that Emma loved. “That he was the one. But what does that matter if he wasn’t, right?”

   Emma didn’t respond, but Juliet could see the newfound vacancy in her eyes. As if someone had just blown out a light.

   “What exactly happened, anyway?” Juliet asked in as light and casual of a tone as she could muster.

   Emma let out a harsh, sudden, short laugh as if Juliet had just said something both hilarious and humorless.”Well, you know how popular and loving Jack is. Turns out he thought he could love me, Sophia, and Rose in the same way at the same time.”

   Juliet was speechless. Jack’s audacity was astounding, and Juliet was furious, but Emma could sense it in the way her expression slipped and her face grew stiff.

   “It’s all right-“

   “What? It is not-“

   “Let me finish,” Emma persisted. “I was having second thoughts before I found out. In fact, me having second thoughts is how I found out. But the point is, something was never quite right with him and I stuck with it thinking that at some point my fears or reservations would go away. And then they didn’t, and I had to come to terms with the fact that there was something wrong that wasn’t just in my head. He was too good to be true, so he turned out to be fake.”

   Juliet held Emma’s hands and nodded along to her tragic monologue. Emma clutched her hands as if they were the only things keeping her from being sucked into a vortex. She was thankful that she had someone she could always turn to, who would always listen and understand what she wanted to say. That was the special thing about Juliet, she could literally read her mind. When Emma thought about it, there were about a million reasons why Juliet was special to her. She could feel Juliet’s pulse through her hand and noticed how it seemed to be rushing. Juliet’s hand felt delicate in hers, and, if she looked in her eyes, she noticed that crystalline quality to them that fascinated her. She remembered unnerving Juliet the first time they met with the way she stared. The memory made her smile.

   “You’re not allowed to be so self-deprecating.”

   “Hmm?” Emma broke out of her haze, but not with enough time to actually understand what Juliet had said.

   “It’s not your fault. You went in with good intentions and in good faith. He’s the one who mistreated you, broke your trust, and cheated. So cheer up, knowing you did everything right, and someday you’ll find someone who doesn’t take advantage of you just because you’re kind and trusting.” Juliet squeezed her hands before letting go. “Tea?”

   Emma smiled and released a light laugh. “Tea would be great.”

   Juliet walked around the couch to the tiny kitchen, and as she began her work Emma explored the room. It hadn’t changed much since she’d last been there a month ago, but some of the hanging plants had flourished in her absence. Books, magazines, and paint supplies were in the most organized unorganized piles throughout the room. She noticed a door slightly ajar.

   “I have some sweets around here somewhere if you’d like those too.”

*   *   *

   Juliet turned around when she didn’t hear a response to find Emma no longer in the room. She furrowed her brows and looked around, finally spotting her in the art room. Panicked, she rushed in after her.

   “Um, there’s sweets. So, if you want to come back out here-“

   “Is that me?” Emma asked, eyes wide and almost hopeful. But that was no doubt a trick of Juliet’s mind.

   Juliet hesitated but admitted defeat. “Yeah . . . yeah, it is. It’s embarrassing, actually, but I was painting you something for your wedding.”

   “Jules, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

   “No, no, no. There’s no need to thank me,” Juliet waved her hands in a flustered, don’t-look-at-me kind of way. “Especially now. I guess it’s just lucky I hadn’t painted him yet. Now I can wait until you do find the one to finish it.”

   “But, we don’t know when that will be and I hate thinking of you leaving your work unfinished.” Emma gazed intently at the picture as if thinking deeply of a way to remedy the problem she’d created in her mind. Then she looked back at Juliet. “You should paint yourself in.”

   Juliet giggled, not in the cute way she might’ve hoped but rather maniacally. “No! No, I can’t do that. It’s fine, I’m fine with waiting.”

   “But I can’t think of anyone who’s been there for me more than you have. Or anyone else I’d rather have in my life forever. So, if the picture is meant to portray those feelings then it’s only right the other person should be you.” There was an intensity to Emma’s expression and tone that proved to Juliet she was being entirely serious.

   Juliet grasped Emma’s shoulders and fiercely stared into her hazel eyes. “You will find someone absolutely amazing, who adores you. Someone who will give you everything they have, and makes your happiness their priority. Someone who is ready, willing, and excited to make the life you’ve always wanted with you. And when you do, the spot on the painting will finally be filled.”

   Then Juliet let go, turned around, and walked back into the kitchen to finish making the tea. Emma glanced once more to the picture before whispering.

   “I thought I had.”