Echoes of The Cliff

Chapter 3

Frank came down to the dining room where Minnie had already set up their dinner of mashed potatoes and steak. He kissed her on the cheek with a quick thanks, and went to take his seat at the other side of the small round table.

He wanted to ask her about her day at the hospital but it was a long formed rule between them, that there would be no talk of patients and murder cases at the dining.

After the meal was over, Minnie moved to take the plates to the kitchen and do them alone, but Frank was not having any of that. He went in after her and took the dishes and dried them as she washed them, while they exchanged small talk. Soon after, they were snuggled together under a thick blanket on the blue sofa, watching a movie.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Minnie's soft voice suddenly broke the silence.

"I hope so, sunshine." Frank answered, kissing the top of her head and rubbing his hand up and down her left arm. "I really hope so."

*************

Two men sat in front of the cliff edge above Dead Sailor's sea. The lapping of the azure waves painted black by the dead of the night against the rocks could still be faintly heard from down below.

The men's appearances were shrouded by the cover of night, and all that could be seen was their similar silhouettes, their very similar silhouettes.

The man on the left took a swig of the drink in his left hand and heaved a breath, whilst his partner remained reticent with hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

The man in the distance gazed off into the mist covered distance with a faraway look, as though he were living in another point in time at that moment.

It had been perfect. It had all been perfect. They had been perfect. Till he found his heart wandering against his will and out of his control, but he didn't mind it. He loved it, he loved loving her, it was the best thing he had ever felt. But it was also the worst.

Loving her felt like the girl herself, like the warmth of sunrise permeating his entire being, seeping into his every pore and soothing his very soul. It felt like a raging inferno from the inside that kept him alive, as well as ate him alive. It was addictive, maddening, and invigorating. Just like her.

But he hadn't minded it one bit, holding out hope that as long as she loved him as fiercely as she did the rest of them, she would eventually notice him and come to love him the way he loved her, the way he wanted her to love him. Unbeknownst to him, these daydreams of his were doomed never to come to fruition from the very beginning, and they began to shatter when he realized this firestorm wasn't raging in his heart alone.

He had fallen in love with her too, and of course she loved him as well. He let out a bitter laugh, thinking about how it had been surprising, yet not so surprising at the same time.

But he had remained. Remained there, remained loyal, remained besotted. He struggled to talk his aching, unruly heart into order, but all he could manage was to muffle the internal screams of agony as he watched the only thing he had loved in a long time, leave him...again.

And when he had left and he thought he had a chance, he received another smack in the face. Hard. How could she see him and not see him at the same time? He put every fibre of his being into being the only one left for her, hoping her heart would be swayed. But it had already left, it was thousands of miles away, following a man that wasn't even there. And of course when the time came for them to leave, for her to leave, she ran off with the speed of lightning and back into his arms, like steel to a magnet.

He remembered thinking at that point; was this what it meant to be loved back? Was he not deserving of it? Who decided who was?

Anyway, he made a decision after watching them hug each other like their lives depended on it at the airport. He could not stay any longer. No, he would not stay any longer. As much as he cherished them, he could not stand being by their side while being weighed down by his heavy heart.

So he left and embarked on a journey; to heal, to let go, to start afresh. To find someone new, to love someone new. But no matter what he did, where he went for the past eight years of his life, he always found himself looking for that familiar brown bob of hair and big, round brown eyes full of life. And oh, did he find many. It was a huge world, after all. But they all felt lacking. Too radiant, not radiant enough. Too vibrant, not vibrant enough. Too tall, too short, too fat, too slim, too fair, too tanned, too brilliant, too naive. It was hopeless.

Then he realized the problem after seven years of pointless turmoil. They were not her. There was only one person for him, and none of them were her. So he flew back home with puerile hope that they would be separated by now. It had been seven years after all, surely they had broken up, and he wouldn't mind if there was someone else in the picture again.

It wouldn't be a problem. He would make sure he wasn't a problem. But he realized he had been foolish to think he was the only one plagued with the malady of love for so long. Except while it had cursed him, it had blessed them instead.

He came home to a wedding. He watched it all from the shadows with trembling hands and a quaking heart. Even the insouciant one had already found fulfilment, standing hand in hand with some woman that made him more smiley than he had ever seen him in almost two decades. Why...why was he the only one left out?

He turned around and fled before anyone could notice him, and his demons' ever increasing cacophony had led him to this point.

"Are you ready...Andrew?"

"Yes, Andrew."