After a while, people start leaving, first stopping to wish me all the best. When I can’t bear their compassion anymore, I escape to the guest room.
Natalia is in there, wiping her eyes. Her relationship with my dad was a complicated one, but I have no doubt they loved each other deeply.
“He was one of a kind, you know.” She shakes her head. “I always knew I’d never find another man like him.”
“I always wondered why you both never—” I stop talking, not sure if the funeral is the right time to ask.
“Why we never went public with our relationship, or made a commitment to each other?”
I nod and she sighs.
“He was always going to be in love with your mother, Liz. He was my once in a lifetime love, but she was his. There are just some kinds of love that when people lose, they never recover. Like your parents.’”
She pats my hand and leaves me alone.
A once in a lifetime love.
Like mine, for Aidan.
By the time I return to the living room, Gertie is clearing the dishes with Aidan’s help.
“Why don’t you get some rest,” I tell her. “You must be tired. We can take care of this.”
She hesitates but does as I say. She’s grieving as much as I am.
Aidan and I work in silence, clearing and cleaning. When we finish, he follows me to the study, coming to sit beside me on the sofa. Still silent, he takes my hand in his own.
I close my eyes, drawing comfort even from that small touch.
“Everything fell apart when I left,” I mutter. “I hurt you, disappointed my dad…” I shake my head. “Did you hear the questions today? That’s what people care about. When I’ll make them a movie. Sometimes I feel like going to L.A. was the worst decision I ever made.”
“You can’t think that,” Aidan’s fingers tighten around mine. “You’ve done some excellent movies and brought a lot of joy to your audience.”
“But not to myself. Everyone I love has been hurt by that decision. Seven years ago, I had him, I had you. Now…” I stop and give him a helpless look. “He was sick for a while before he told me, Aidan, because I’d become such a stranger to him, he had to consider what his sickness would mean for my brand.”
Aidan’s arms circle my shoulders. “He cared about you. He was proud of you. You made him happy. He was prouder of you than anything he ever accomplished in his life, which is saying a lot.”
“I keep thinking I didn’t deserve that pride.”
“You followed your dreams and succeeded where many others failed. That’s what he wanted for you.”
I close my eyes, wondering what it cost Aidan to say that. Pursuing those dreams broke us apart. I hold back a sob, but he notices and draws me into his warmth. “You were here for him at the end.”
“Yes, whatever that’s worth.”
Aidan smooths my hair. “Liz, I’m certain it was worth a lot.”
I rise to my feet and walk over to the shelf, because it’s torture to remain in his arms, so close to him. “He was still here when I got to the hospital. He talked about my mother. He never stopped loving her, I think in the end he was certain he would see her again.”
“Maybe he will,” Aidan smiles ruefully. “I always hoped there was a place where my parents could be happy again.”
“Oh Aidan.” The reminder of his parents’ tragedy makes everything seem so much more painful. I go back to the sofa and take his hand, burrowing into his arms. We remain there, quiet companions in our shared grief but somehow, feeling better because we’re together.
Later, in the living room, I open a bottle of wine and put on one of my father’s favorite classical records. On the couch, I rest my head on Aidan’s shoulder.
“What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t left?” I ask softly.
He thinks for a few moments. “Who knows,” he says finally, his voice oddly unemotional.