Unrequited Love

It is an unspoken rule of the universe that a love which burns too brightly cannot be sustained. A friend told me that five years ago and I had repeated those words over and over again on the drive to the restaurant but, now that I was here and in his arms, that rule flew swiftly into the wind.

The music was as slow and gentle as the early autumn breeze blowing in off the sea. Above us, a thousand stars decorated the night sky and the full moon hung high illuminating the waves beyond the dunes as they rolled and rushed. My eyes were closed, my head laying on his chest as he held me and we swayed back and forth. On my waist, his hand was delicate, holding me close to him, and in my own, his hand was strong and secure. Through the soft linen of his shirt, I heard his heart beating and I wished more than anything that we could stay suspended in this moment forever.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, whispering softly into my ear. He brought our hands close to my face and gently stroked one of my brown curls before tucking it behind my ear.

“I’m thinking that I wish we could stay in this moment forever,” I admitted. He was silent as he led me around the sandy dance floor. Flashes of us from five years ago danced through my head.

“What are you thinking?” I asked. He sighed and stepped back, breaking our connection.

“I’m thinking that I would like to take our glasses and a new bottle of wine and walk down to the beach.” His blue eyes swirled with the water of the sea and I was entranced.

“I would like that,” I answered.

Jack smiled and walked back to our table. God, he was beautiful. His shoulders broad and his back strong. Dark golden forearms contrasted with the rolled, white linen sleeves of his shirt, and his worn, light-colored jeans fit him perfectly, sculpting to his muscled legs and backside. I watched him walk back to our table in awe of the fact that I was here with him after all this time, and that he looked the same as he did in my memories.

“We’re going to head down to the beach for a while, Johnny,” he said, raising our glasses and a bottle of wine towards his friend, the owner of the beach-side restaurant, who simply nodded in our direction.

“You comin’?” he asked, turning back to me. I smiled softly and nodded, enjoying watching him under the glow of the patio’s stringed lights. I followed him down the wooden stairs, standing close enough to smell the salty sea on his skin. I remembered what it felt like to have that scent wrap around me entirely. A shiver went up my spine.

“Do you remember the last time we were here?” I asked quietly. Jack looked down at me and smiled.

“Of course I do,” he answered, “you were wearin’ that pretty little white dress with the blue flowers.” I blushed and laughed easily. I had forgotten how much I’d loved his southern accent and how out of place it seemed along the coast of Massachuesetts.

"That seems like a different lifetime,” I said. When we reached the sand, we slid our shoes off and walked until we were in front of a large sand-dune beyond the view of the restaurant. I sat down on the soft, powdery sand and watched as he poured two glasses of merlot. He handed one to me and I swished it around a few times before taking a drink, letting the sweet taste of plum and cherries wash over my lips and quench my thirst. I cleared my throat.

“I have to say, I was surprised to get your call,” I said boldly. Jack looked over at me before taking a drink from his own glass.

“To tell you the truth I was surprised I called you,” he answered. I swallowed and looked at him silently, leaving room for him to continue.

“I was in town about a month ago to pick up supplies when I thought I saw you in that bookshop on the corner of Madison and Williams,” he paused and took another drink before continuing, “it wasn’t you, though, but a poster with your picture on it saying you were going to be in town doing book signings.” I nodded, swishing my glass rhythmically in my hand.

“So you decided to call?” Jack dipped his head and then looked out over the moonwashed waves. The breeze gently ruffled his blonde hair and rustled through the seagrass.

“It felt like the right thing to do.” My heart thumped loudly in my chest and I was right back to where I was five years ago at eighteen; madly in love and impossibly naive.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” I answered, “I had walked to the docks early in the morning to clear my head and ran right into you.” Jack laughed easily and leaned back against the sand. I pushed my glass into the sand next to me before laying back as well. There had to be about a million stars in the sky. Remembering those two weeks spent with Jack was something I did often. It was scary how quickly we had fallen for each other and how heavily our relationship progressed. The two weeks in Nantucket that I had originally dedicated to finishing my book, were spent lying in his arms and dreaming about a forever that would never come.

“I missed you, Annie,” he said, breaking the silence that had come between us. He said he missed me and I believed him. I wanted this to be real. Five years older at 23 and I was still the girl who loved too strongly and trusted too easily.

“I missed you, too.” Jack rolled over onto his side and stared at me, taking a calloused finger and tracing it down the curve of my face.

“I promised you a first date once a thousand copies of your book were sold,” he murmured. I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of his skin on mine.

“This is my third book, Jack” I wanted to say. “Where was this date after the first book sold?” But instead, I opened my eyes and rolled to my side.

“I remember,” I said. Jack leaned forward and kissed me gently and then deeply and I let myself believe that our timing was finally right. I loved him and I had loved him since the day I’d run into him five years ago. I measured every man I met against him and every love against his, too. No one had ever measured up. I pulled away from him, pressing a hand against his chest, and looked into his eyes.

“I’ll be in town again next month for another book signing.” The words hung there, between us, holding the hope I wished so desperately for him to fulfill. Jack sat up and ran a hand through his hair, looking back out over the ocean.

"I’ll be gone next month through January,” he answered “Crab season.”

“That’s right,” I said, holding back tears “I’d forgotten.”

“Tell me you want to keep in touch. Tell me to come back in January.”

“Well, we better get moving,” he said getting to his feet “the restaurant will be closing soon and I gotta get these glasses to Johnny. And just like that, I knew I had played the fool once more. After five years, after a love so heavy I thought I would drown in it, Jack Parker still could not commit.

I laid there a moment longer, my back pressed against the cold sand, and bitterly resented time for continuing to move forward when all I had wanted was to stay in his arms on that dance floor forever.

“Comin?” he asked. I reached for my wine glass, drank the remainder of merlot, and stood up, wiping the grains of sand from my legs along with any hopes I’d had of a different outcome.

We walked up the stairs to the restaurant in silence, both understanding the unspoken finality of our time together, and when he walked me to my car and kissed me, I kissed him back strongly knowing it would be the last time.

“It was good to see you, Annie,” he said against my ear.

“You too,” I said back. “Goodbye, Jack.” He turned around to walk back inside and, with shaking hands, I turned the keys in the ignition and drove away repeating my friend’s warning in my head.

“It is an unspoken rule of the universe that a love that burns too brightly cannot be sustained.”