Our Love Will Be Remembered

Our Love Will be Remembered... (Ch 33)

OUR LOVE WILL BE REMEMBERED...

Chapter 33

Yes, the night I killed Juliet’s father and took care of the hearts was a very long and eventful one… Everything changed that night.

And as I drove back to my aunt’s house I passed by a church. I would be lying to say my experience with Maria hadn’t affected me when it came to faith.

Part of me needed to atone for my sins.

But of course, churches weren’t what they used to be where you could ask for shelter at every time of the day. I was lucky to even find one that was still open at that time of night. And it was definitely not confession time.

Instead I sat at a pew and asked for forgiveness.

“Forgive me father for I have sin. It’s been years since my last confession. I have conveyed Father, I have committed adultery and fornication, I lied, I stole and I murdered. I have I killed woman, Father. I killed many. I took their life away from them to preserve something I thought was worth giving their lives for. And now Father, I lust one. I want her more than I have ever wanted any. It hurts me how much I love her. And I’m scared Father. Scared to give her the same fate as all the other ones.”

No one was there to answer me. And what could have they answered anyway?

When I got back home Juliet was waiting for me.

It had been over a week since her confession.

She looked like all of it was pass her now.

I wish I could have been like her because none of what I had done was past me. It followed me everywhere…

That night, instead of going into her own bed, Juliet followed me in my room. At first we talked about what we usually talked; books. But I wasn’t really interested in the conversation as much as I would have wanted. I couldn’t help it, I had too much on my mind.

And then suddenly she had brushed her hand against my cheek, her fingertips touching the skin under my eyes. “You look so sad sometimes, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what to do, what to give you to make you feel better.”

“You can’t do anything about it Juliet,” I had answered her in a tone I hoped had matched her soft one.

“But I want to. What can I give you?”

I had become frantic when she had mentioned that. “I want everything from you yet I don’t want anything. Don’t ever give me anything Juliet, please. I don’t deserve anything from you.”

I didn’t deserve anything from her. I couldn’t have her heart and I didn’t deserve her love.

The wise thing would had been to stay away from her. But I couldn’t do it…

“Why are you saying this? You’re not making sense.”

“I don’t deserve you Juliet,” I had whispered fiercely, my eyes slowly filling with tears.

“Deserve me? Deserving makes me sound like a prize, like a possession.”

“Why do you love me?” This question had taken her by surprise. I think it was the fact that I had mentioned love.

“Are you trying to make me give you some rational explanation of love? I love you because you are you and I am me.”

“You could have someone better. You could be with someone better than me.”

“I don’t want better Tristan. I want you.”

The rest of the night was easy to guess.

I don’t think it could have gone differently, and even now, with what I have to do, I know things shouldn’t have gone differently. I couldn’t bear for them to.

Still, I spent the rest of that night thinking I had made the biggest mistake of my life. At that time it seemed like most obvious reasoning. Because that night had been perfect. Because we had too many perfect moments before. I should have killed her and stopped it. Now everything we had would be ruin, everything would start to fleet before our eyes the minute she would wake up. She wouldn’t look at me the same way and she would care less and less about me.

I fell asleep to that thought.

The next morning when I woke up, Juliet wasn’t in the bed anymore. I saw this as the first sign of the tarnishing of our love but when I walked in the kitchen I was hit by the scene enrolling in front of me.

Juliet had her back to me and was making pancakes, one of my shirts as her only means of clothes, letting her round butt peek at the bottom of it, while she sway her hips to music she was humming.

In that second all I wished for was for my aunt to be far far away from the house right now, I wished for Juliet and I to be perfectly alone together, to have our little kingdom for ourselves where I could look at her endlessly while she didn’t even notice it, and did her own little thing. I started to think about renting an apartment where we could live together and…

And I couldn’t have that… any of that.

Because I was a killer. I was a serial killer and a terrorist, a kidnapper and a sick sick man.

All my life I had tried to think what I was doing was right, what I had been doing was the right thing, but I had only been acting on my own desires and primal urges.

I had been a coward, the coward Juliet had concluded Isolde’s Tristan to be.

And Juliet was better, so much better than me. And she deserved better than anything I could offer her.

The only thing I could offer her was death…

And that’s what I would give her.

That’s what I will give you, my love.