Unspoken

Chapter 12

The sound of water trickling over pebbles, and a soft breeze filled with the scent of summer flowers brushed over John's face, waking him from a deep slumber. As his eyes slowly opened, he felt the heat of the sun on his face. John sat up, glancing around him. He was lying on a patch of soft grass, and he immediately knew this place. He had been here before, with Marlena. It had been one of the best days of his life. A day he felt he would never forget. Sitting up abruptly, he remembered their picnic, and the race around the park. He remembered leaning against the boulder, with her head resting on his shoulder, and flirting with each other in between soft, slow kisses. He sighed deeply, leaning back on his palms, looking up at the blue sky, and closed his eyes.

"John..."

His eyes opened quickly, "Isabella?"

Suddenly, on the ground before him, she sat facing him, wearing the same dress she wore the night they left for Italy, "Hi, John."

He stared at her in shock, trying to memorize every line of her face. He asked her, "Why are we here?"

"This place is special to you isn't it? I don't choose the place, John, you do."

He felt his heart break all over again. Her voice, her smile, the way the light reflected the auburn in her hair, "Oh, G-d! Izzy B!" He reached for her, but even though she was right there in front of him, he was unable to touch her. "I miss you. I miss you so much," he whispered, reaching towards her again.

She smiled gently, "I miss you, too. I miss our son." John was silent for a moment, thinking about the fact that Brady had lost his mother. His son had no mother. As if he had spoken out loud, he heard Isabella respond, "He has a mother, John...he has Marlena..."

He felt peace settle in his heart, where previously there had been turmoil. Isabella seemed different, almost angelic. She had lost the earthly trappings of pain, and sorrow, and she simply existed. He looked at her, realizing that she was letting him go. She was blessing this path in his life. He said softly, "He does...He does have Marlena, and she loves him. Oh, how she loves him."

"I know. I knew she would. She has that way about her. Her love is unconditional," Isabella told him. "You're allowed to love her, you know."

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, the ache in his chest so tight from the sorrow of missing her. He couldn't speak, because his emotions were so conflicted. Isabella leaned forward and he thought he felt the heat of her palm along his face, and she whispered again, "You're allowed to love her, John. You are."

John found himself crying out for Isabella as he woke from his dream. His pillowcase was wet with his tears, and the loneliness in his heart was overwhelming. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat up, quickly wiping the tears from his face. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat. Pulling it over his head, he tossed it carelessly to the end of the bed. His dream had brought back the excruciating sense of loss he felt over Isabella. It was fresh, all of it. As if it had just happened. The pain and anguish that he had spent weeks trying to push down, were ripping his heart open again.

Wearing only his boxer briefs, John stood up, and made his way to the adjoining bathroom, intent on washing his face. Looking at his haggard appearance in the mirror John noted his red, swollen eyes. "Fuck, Izzy B, why?" he moaned at his reflection. "Why come back and make me remember how much loosing you hurts?" But he already knew the answer. The message, the deeper meaning of the dream—Isabella wanted him to know that loving Marlena was okay. She wanted that for him. She was letting him know that she was letting him go. Sighing deeply, John turned on the water in the faucet, and splashed cold water over his face, and chest.