Meet Me in the Middle

Chapter 20

One year later...

It was a sunny day.

The birds chirped a melodic song as they flew past the trees together. The autumn leaves slowly wilting away from their branches as they bunch up on the sidewalks, creating a pillowy bundle of crusty dried leaflets.

Winter was fast approaching, the shining sun carrying a chill wind across the city; tank tops now replaced by thick jackets and bundled up mittens to seek warmth.

Luke walked briskly as the wind flew his hair in all sorts of directions, the sun giving him just enough warmth to savor before he turns to a corner toward the cemetery.

The bustling of the crowds and the honking of the cars left behind as the street remained silent; with the ocassional local walking their dog to break the peace. A somber note enveloping this part of the city.

He entered the gates, the loud creaking of the metal catching the attention of the ravens that flew upwards; surprised at the high toned pitch of the rusty fence.

He admired the tombstones, some intricately designed and some with barely visible writing on them.

It was that time of the year again, after all.

Luke decided to visit earlier than usual, since his schedule couldn't match up with the initial gathering the family had planned. But Mrs. Owens assured him to take his time and visit when he can, the absence of his mothering filled by her as it became a habit to consider her as family from now on.

Looking up in front of him, beside a tree lay his most beloved. The branches naked and bold, looking a guardian as it towered over her tombstone, ever-so looming.

In his hand was a bouquet of tulips he had picked out just before he got out of his shift. Working for the Shelhurst art department wasn't the biggest gig in the world, but he had other plans that could fullfill him either way.

His father wasn't too pleased about it, argued with him for days. Pressured him even to get into a stable line of thought, to consider the family business.

Every doubt in his body disappeared as he neared her. Cassie's name carved intricately in front, he dusted the top off that was building up debris and grime. He placed the bouquet of flowers in front, admiring how it complimented her name.

"I know I came just in time, my schedule's been crazy for the past month" he conversed with no one in particular, sitting down with his legs crossed as he inched his way closer to the piece of stone. A piece of Cassie.

"Your mom's been a mess you know that? It's good that she has a good son-in-law like me to humor her" he joked, imagining the girl he loved slapping his shoulder and deeming his comment "corny".

His smile faltered, words stuck in his throat as he couldn't figure out what to say. He couldn't say it because it had been too late, regret and sadness enveloped his heart like an unwelcomed hug.

"You're so unfair, you know that?" he muttered, a single tear falling from his eyes. "You leave me so soon, and for what?"

I gave you my heart, you idiot he could almost hear her sarcastic voice as he ranted.

He stood up, ready to leave and get it all over with. But his feet were frozen in place, his mind urging him to move but his body was tied down by an invisible knot that kept him there.

Then, he broke.

"It's so unfair that I'm growing old, I'm paying bills and I'm experiencing new things and it isn't with you!" he shouted at the lone tombstone, his voice cracked as hurt ran through his veins. "I'm going to turn 24 soon and you're stuck at 22!"

He could almost hear her hearty laugh, probably amused at his childish display of grief in front of the whole cemetery.

"I was born with a broken heart once" he was now whispering, wiping his tears in his sleeves. "but now I live with it"

-

That evening, he walked up the stairs of the Metropolitan Museum, crowds of people stood by the entrance as the new artworks were unveiled.

Along with one of his.

He shook hands with his the poeple at the museum, talking about the paintings and the stories behind them. Throughly recognized by the crowd, it overwhelmed him in a sense.

Cameras clicked away at each painting, all displayed in a white canvas of a wall.

Once the event in the other room had started, the museum started to go quiet again. The once murmuring crowds being led to their seats inside. In his tailored dress shirt and dress pants, with his perfectly done-up hair he somberly looked at each one. Surveying the works his fellow colleagues had created.

Then came time for his, a picture of a young man staring out a window, knitting to her hearts content as her face scrunched up in concentration. An image he knew all too well.

Frozen in place, he remembered the painting he drew of her back then. Just kids who didn't know a thing of the world, just kids hanging out under the stars as they broke curfew, just kids making their way through life.

He closed his eyes, seeing Cassie's proud face as she looked at the painting. Her eyes dazzled with glee, pointing at the frame with a huge smile on her face.

I'm so proud of you! he heard he voice squeal, admiring the painting behind the velvet rope.

He walked away, ushered by the urge to join the others in the events room. The distant clapping of the crowd being heard from the museum.

Luke loathed the color white, because it reminded him of purity, "the light at the end of the tunnel" and a blank slate to start his life anew.

But for him, it was a painful reminder of the once; Cassie Yuan.