Lotus

by Jennifer Hartmann

“I know you probably don’t remember me,” she says, folding her hands together in her lap, fingers intertwining. Her eyes are a captivating shade of blue as they implore me. They are twinkling, even. “But I remember you.” I’m inclined to look away, inhaling an uneven breath as I try so hard not to withdraw altogether. “You would pull on my pigtails, telling me that I looked like Angelica from Rugrats. We would make mudpies in my driveway after a rainstorm. Our families would sit out back around the firepit roasting marshmallows, while you, me, Gabe, and Clem tried to outdo each other with the scariest ghost story. We would play ‘telephone’ from window to window, we’d set up lemonade stands at the edge of the road and use the money for the ice cream man, and we’d catch fireflies in glass jars.” Sydney stops to collect herself, her eyes reflecting wet tears. “I remember everything about you, Oliver. You were real. Your life before what happened to you was real.”

I ask him softly, timidly, our hands still connected, “Will you be my friend, Oliver Lynch?” And then I slip him a smile, lightening the moment. There is a noticeable hitch in his demeanor, a brief, silent battle between his inherent fears and his desire to conquer them. A war between his years of isolation, the only thing he truly knows, and…me. My heartbeat picks up as I await his response, my fingers crawling into the cracks of his own, pressing his hand further against my cheek. Oliver releases a surrendering breath, and his lips draw up into a smile that matches mine. A weight lifts. “I would like that.”

“What did it feel like to you?” My mind is still spinning, my thoughts dizzy and blurred. I’ve never felt anything like that before, so I have little to compare it to, but I try to explain it the best I can. “Like every star in the galaxy tumbled to earth and crawled beneath my skin.”

I keep going. “I’ve spent my whole life keeping people at arm’s length because it’s how I cope, how I protect myself. And yes, I’ve been with men, that’s no secret…but it’s never meant anything.” I find his eyes, and they are just as tear-filled as mine. “With you, it would mean everything and that scares the shit out of me.”

When Oliver’s arms encircle me, boldly pulling me to his chest, I lose the fight I had no intention of winning. I collapse against him, my own happiness invading every little piece I’ve purposely left empty and hollow for far too many years. Those pieces were left for him. Only him.

“I’m not gone anymore, Syd.” His palms find my face, clasping my cheeks, tears slipping through his fingers. “I’m right here, with you, and I’m still holding on to your heart. Please don’t ask me to give it back.”

Eyes joined in a poignant clutch, I already know what he’s asking for. I know exactly what he wants to hear, and I say the words without hesitation, without a single second thought. “I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

We come down at the same time, breathless. Hearts beating fast, lungs burning, limbs weightless. I soften my grip on his curls, sweeping my fingers through the damp strands and kissing the top of his head. As we process our feelings, thoughts, the heavy weight of our lovemaking, I inch back to find his eyes. They are glazed over, burning bright, and smiling into mine. “I love you, Oliver Lynch.” I say his name, I say it loud and clear, because he is real. He is someone. He is everything to me.

Love. I never told her I loved her.

I wish for tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I wish for all the tomorrows…with her.

“I love you, Syd.” My wish came true, and I don’t care that we only had ten months together. They were the best ten months of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

All this time, it had been her. She was with me in that basement for twenty-two years in the form of a childhood wish. Written on my arm in black ink, misconstrued and upside down, those letters manifested into the only true friend I had down in that hole. It created pages upon pages of stories and adventures, keeping me company, keeping me sane, keeping me alive for so many years. It was her. It’s always been her. With our initials on my arm and branded in my heart, I squeeze her tight, peppering kisses into her hair as I whisper words of love against her ear. Sydney Neville + Oliver Lynch It’s always been us.

Oliver resituates, propping himself up on one knee as the colors rain down, sheathing the diamond in dazzling hues, while illuminating the look of awestruck whimsy on his face. “Sydney,” he says, linking my fingers through his unoccupied hand as he holds up the ring. Oliver finds my eyes, my weeping, lovesick eyes, and holds tight. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day. You’re my best friend. You’re my queen,” he whispers, words spilling out like poetry. “Will you be my wife?”

The Lotus will bloom into the most magnificent flower, even when its roots are in the murkiest of waters. I wrap my arms around Oliver Lynch, my forever best friend, burying my face against the comforting warmth of his chest. And it’s there upon our secret hill that we dance, we cry, and we fall in love all over again. It’s there we bloom.

When the song falls silent, we still hold each other, swaying gently to the sounds of our pets fighting over a toy mouse and Charlene startling awake with a cry that resembles a squealing elephant. We share a humored glance.

She is still my queen, but she’s no longer a damsel in distress. Syd is a hero, like me, and we defeat the villains side by side, hand in hand. She is my partner, my companion, my equal…the other half of my heart. We save the world together. I press a tender kiss to her forehead and hold out my arm, my gaze dancing between hers and mine. Our matching tattoos smile back at us: sn + ol