The Light in the Wound Read online

  “Isabel, you are so pretty. No, exquisite. Beautiful.”

  And then it happened. Our first kiss. Slow and gentle at first, tentative and unsure. He smelled like cool grass and sun and all I wanted to do was inhale him. And though I closed my eyes, I saw him clearly. I had learned in my life that the good things were fleeting, and everything always came to an end. I wanted to remember this moment forever.

  His kiss grew more demanding as I relaxed back on the chair and let him take the lead. We were breathless by the time it was over. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me as we watched the rest of the movie.

  We drove home in a comfortable silence, and his voice broke into my thoughts as we pulled up to my house. “Isabel, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to happen. You. Especially you. We’re from different worlds. I had everything planned out, a course I needed to follow. But I want to be with you so much.”

  “What are you saying, Jesse?” I asked. Dumb question. I knew where this was going.

  “I don’t know, Isabel. I’m afraid I can’t commit to trying to have a relationship at this point. I—”

  “Seriously, Jesse. It’s okay. We were just having fun. Why would you think I’d be expecting anything from you? See you around.”

  I left his car, careful not to slam the door or give any indication that this was starting to hurt.

  My reaction to what had just happened was momentarily placed on hold as I walked into the front entrance of our house. I found my mother sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, eating her dinner with her hands, half asleep and in a trance-like state.

  “Mom,” I whispered as I bent down to kiss her on the head. “I think you’ve had enough to eat now, let’s get you wiped up and ready for bed.”

  I took a wet towel, cleaned her face and hands and slowly took her upstairs to her bedroom and tucked her into bed.

  I didn’t shed any tears that night. My emotions were channeled into worrying about my mother. Betty called him a jerk and said I should stop waiting around and just go on with my life. Alicia said he ducked out as soon as he saw her at practice, and Evie just said the hell with it and encouraged me to go for one of Betty’s friends. Despite the hurt that I felt from Jesse’s rejection, I found myself reliving the days of my childhood.

  Memories of those years came flooding back as I vividly recalled the years in which we were shuffled back and forth between homes, or for visits to the rehab centers where my mother often stayed. One of the centers she lived in was a drab looking building two hours away from the city. Sitting in a cold waiting room with toys and coloring books while waiting for my mother to emerge from her counseling session was a weekly routine for me.

  It wasn’t my mother I was visiting then — my mother was always impeccably dressed, with not a stray hair on her head. This was someone else in a hospital gown with frayed ribbons on them. Sometimes, the ribbons extended down her arm into tight long sleeves. Other times, they would just be sewn on the back of her gown. I was allowed in her bedroom where I would watch TV and read until the day came to a close. The few times I was there affected me the rest of my life. I can still close my eyes and envision the filthy yellow walls and cold metal hospital beds that smelled of rubbing alcohol.

  Maybe some things just never changed.

  Two weeks later, I was in the barn, untacking Pepe from a ride and brushing his tail before hosing him down. Pepe was cross tied and I had just pulled his reins over his ears and coaxed him to drop the bridle from his mouth. I never failed to admire his buckskin color, his solid neck and powerful haunches. He was indeed a beautiful animal.

  “Hey Peps. If you let me pick your hooves we can share the box of sugar cubes I brought.”

  “You eat sugar cubes whole?”

  Here we go again. That voice. Killed me every time.

  “I think you’re in the wrong stall. Looking for another horse?”

  “No, I’m actually looking for the girl that I’ve fallen in love with.”

  He walked, no, strode toward me wearing holey jeans and a faded t-shirt. His face was achingly perfect. I was entranced by those smoldering, deep-set eyes. He held my face in his hands and kissed me.

  As we continued to explore each other in silence, Pepe pushed me with his left knee and nudged me for his sugar cubes. We both laughed as I turned around to reach into my tack box and rewarded Pepe for his patience.

  “You’ve fallen in love with me?” I asked, as he planted little kisses on my lips.

  “I can’t stay away from you, Isabel. I don’t want to fight this anymore.” He moaned as his lips parted mine, and I truly tasted him for the first time.

  So this is what it feels like to be in love. My pulse raced and my knees went weak, and in that very moment, I knew that the course of my life and the integrity of my heart would be forever linked to this one sweet kiss.

  Jesse tried to see me as much as possible in between his million other activities. He finally came over one day after school, and I introduced him to my mother. It’s a funny thing about having a mother who is well known — I didn’t have to explain anything to Jesse about her. The first time he met her, she was actually happy to see him and was a vibrant and gracious hostess.

  “I love you, Isabel,” he said one night as we sat outside my school watching the cars go by. “I’ve never felt this way before. There’s just something about the way you draw people to you, the way you always try to find the best in every person. My parents think the world of you.”

  I smiled at him and reached for his hand. “I love you too.”

  “So, how many boys have you kissed before me?” He looked down at my hands and played with my fingers. He laid them flat on his thigh and stared straight into the distance.

  “Two. But they were dumb. How about you?” Two boys who represented my attempts at disobedience for shipping me out of the country. Jared was a handsome English boy from St. George’s who used to meet me by the woods adjacent to my boarding school twice a week before curfew. I ran the other way once he asked to see me more often. And Bruce whom I met at a party when I was supposed to be babysitting for a little girl named Daniella. Bruce was a much older boy from a neighboring public school whose father owned a houseboat. My grandparents grounded me for one month after they found out I had only babysat for Daniella once. My final act of defiance had been to take up smoking. Those boys were gone, but that one habit still stayed with me.

  “None. Why were they dumb?” He turned to look at me as he let go of my hand.

  “They just were. Really, Jesse? No one?”

  “I’ve been too busy with school and sports and had braces for the longest time.” He laughed while he eluded my eyes and looked away. “I’m jealous of those two guys you kissed. Did you like them? I mean, I guess, you’re so pretty — of course you’d have your pick of guys to kiss.” He rambled uncomfortably.

  I leaned into him and lay my head on his shoulder. We tried to avoid public displays of affection in front of my school, but I didn’t care. “Don’t be. They weren’t you, and I’ve already forgotten about them.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that, because from now on, these lips are the only ones that you’re ever going to know.”

  Jesse and I graduated from kissing to touching to heavy petting and pleasuring each other. I think it was the night when he first said he loved me that I wanted so much to show him that I felt the same way.

  “So, B, I think I’m ready,” I mentioned to Betty one night over the phone.

  “Ready for what?” she asked, although the tone of her voice gave her away. She knew where this was going.

  “Ready to lose it to Jesse,” I said, hushed, despite the fact that I was alone in my room.

  “Isabel, things like that aren’t planned. That’s a big emotional investment.” She was, after all, in a serious relationship. As if I should really be listening to her.

  “B, help me make it happen, please. I love him so much, I w
ant him to know that,” I insisted.

  She let out a deep sigh. “Okay, Isabel, let’s plan it. I know that my family will be driving up the coast next weekend and no one will be home. Leigh and I are going out of town too. Why don’t you take Jesse there, and you can stay in my room that day.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me? B, you are the best friend ever!” I squealed.

  That Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. I told Jesse that Betty had offered us her home that day just for some alone time. He didn’t ask any questions, he told me he would meet me there.

  We were both jittery when we saw each other. Betty’s parents had left, and she was waiting for Leigh to pick her up for their weekend away.

  “Hi Iss,” Jesse said, as he pulled me into a big hug. He was so much larger than me that his embrace was truly my safe place. When I was enclosed in there, I felt like nothing could hurt me. We engaged in small talk until Betty’s cell phone rang, and she ran out the door. Jesse pulled me close to him and muttered, “I love you so much, Issy.”

  I led him up the long, winding stairway toward Betty’s bedroom. It had huge white double doors, and I could register his surprise as we walked into the large area, which was as big as an apartment. “Sheesh,” he exhaled.

  “What can I say, she’s the youngest child. The baby.” I laughed, my hand never letting go of his.

  “You know, it’s only a matter of time before your family realizes that I’m not good enough for you,” he said pensively.

  “What do you mean? You’re every parents’ dream. You’re so successful, ambitious, and hard working. Any girl would be so lucky to have you.”

  “You’re MY dream. Come here.”

  He kissed me deeply again, this time licking my lips and teeth and then sucking fervently on my top lip. He pushed me against the wall and desperately pressed against me. I could feel him, all of him, strained against the front of his jeans. He slowly took a step back and whispered, “Issy, let me see you.”

  I was shaking as I pulled off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans and stepped out in just my bra and panties. “I love you, Jesse,” I said, as I stood in front of him, surprisingly bold and confident.

  “You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he said as he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down. I was completely naked. He touched me all over and squeezed my breasts as they overflowed from his hands. “I love your breasts, Iss. Let me taste them.” He sucked and tugged at my nipples as he pressed himself against me even more. He prepared me with his fingers until I pulled at his jeans and fumbled with the buttons. He looked at me so lovingly, I was afraid that he might be confusing his feelings for pity. My doubt quickly dissipated as soon as his lips touched my skin once again. His kisses were fevered and frantic, as if he wanted to kiss every part of my face, my ears, my neck. Slowly, he picked me up and laid me tenderly on the bed.

  Jesse groaned as he slowly entered me. I let out a small cry as the sharp pain that took me by surprise suddenly felt so excruciatingly good. And just as soon as it had started, it was done. Jesse withdrew himself as soon as he felt his orgasm taking over. “I love you,” he whispered as he pressed himself against me. He came all over my stomach as I lay underneath him stroking his hair.

  This is it, I thought. It’s done. Nothing can change this. Nothing can take this away from me. Something as indefinable as this can never materialize into anything that can be lost or thrown away.

  We stayed in bed for a few minutes before getting up and cleaning ourselves in the bathroom. Later on during the car ride home, I noticed that my pager had gone off while we were in the house. When I checked it, there was a message from Betty that read:

  Tess driving back to the house, she forgot her phone. Do NOT make a sound or leave my bedroom until you are sure that the coast is clear.

  Close call.

  That night, I was lying in bed, worried and confused about what happened between us. Jesse never brought it up when he called that evening. I wanted to speak to him about it and to ask him how he felt, but he avoided the topic altogether. I finally dialed Betty’s number instead.

  “Hey, I’ve been dying to call you but worried that it would be too late. How are you? How was everything?” she asked excitedly.

  “Did your sister really come back to the house? Did she say anything to you? My gosh, B, what luck!”

  “No, she didn’t say anything. It’s all good. How was it, though?”

  “I’m bleeding, but I think that’s normal, right?” I whispered, embarrassed.

  “Yes, it is, actually. How was Jesse? What did he say?” she asked.

  “Jesse hasn’t said a word about what happened. I don’t know how to feel, B. I feel so special and different, but he’s acting like nothing’s new,” I said as tears started to form in my eyes.

  “Huh. Sorry, Isabel, Leigh wasn’t like that. He was very attentive and wanted me to talk through it to make sure I was okay,” Betty hesitated. I knew she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

  “I guess Jesse’s freaked out or something. Or maybe he really just doesn’t think it’s a big deal,” I mused.

  “That’s okay, right? You’re going to be all right?” she asked worriedly.

  I could tell that her voice was strained, and she was trying to sound lighthearted about it.

  “I’m fine,” I responded.

  As I hung up the phone that night, I wondered whether I had lost him.

  “The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

  —Ernest Hemingway

  Jesse and I had been dating for almost two years. We fell into the routine of seeing each other on weekends, before and after baseball games and on Saturday evenings at either of our houses. We liked to stay over at my house because of the privacy that it afforded us. We never spoke about our first time together, although our relationship had grown passionate and intense, both physically and emotionally. He was in my thoughts every single waking moment. I thought about him, I craved him, I constantly wanted to show him how much I adored him.

  Jesse was still as driven as ever, especially during the time he was trying to get a baseball scholarship into the most prestigious Engineering college in the country. He capitalized on his popularity as President of the Student Council to run campaigns and put himself out there in social events. I, on the other hand, was content with staying on the sidelines. I read a lot, I wrote him stories and poems, and I pledged my love for him. I cooked him meals; I waited patiently. He was almost a different person when he was in public — laughing, friendly and very cordial with members of the opposite sex. When we were alone, he was focused on me. He liked to experiment a lot, loved to watch me, and my only goal was to please him. It made me feel loved, important and secure, even if girls surrounded him every single minute of every day.

  The weekend before the Equestrian Regionals, I had to beg off watching his game so I could hang out by the indoor field and run some practice rounds on the new course. Pepe was doing so well by this time. I no longer had to dig in my heels for my two point for him to clear the jumps. He was so sensitive to my movements that it was almost as if he was an extension of my legs. My form had improved over the years, both on the flats and on the hurdles. I knew in my heart that we were on to winning a few more ribbons the following week. It was 9:00 P.M. on a Saturday night and most of the stalls were empty. These times on Pepe, riding like the wind and daring myself to clear the various heights on a gallop, was the game I loved to play in the open arena when no one was there but me. A few breathless minutes later, I had parked Pepe by the corner to give him a quick rest before doing a final lap around the field. To my surprise, Leigh and Alex entered the barn and trudged through the dirt to where I was.

  “Hey guys, what are you doing here?” I asked happily.

  “We just finished a game of racquetball, and Betty’s meeting me here,” Leigh replied. “Alex wanted to come along to say hi.”<
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  “Hey, Alex. How’ve you been?” He was so attractive; he had actually been my back up plan until things got serious with Jesse. Alex reached out to run his hand along Pepe’s mane as I leaned back on the saddle and removed my boots from the stirrups.

  “Isabel, you look so good on that horse. Which events are you doing next week? I would love to watch you compete,” he gushed.

  A few seconds later, Pepe was startled by a rustling in the corner and bucked up as Jesse emerged with a big smile on his face. Leigh and Alex walked toward him and they exchanged cordial handshakes, making small talk about the World Series, the Indians and the Braves.

  I was ecstatic that Jesse was there. I swung my right leg over Pepe’s back and quickly dismounted from the horse. The boys looked over to me as my boots hit the ground with a thud. Jesse started to walk toward me as the boys quickly mumbled their goodbyes. He didn’t look happy and I realized that he was staring at my clothes. I’m not sure whether the smoke that emanated from his gray eyes represented heat or anger or both.

  I was wearing black britches and a white long sleeved shirt. Because I was small and easily swallowed by the tails of long button down shirts such as this, I normally hiked them up and tied them in a knot across my waistline. My shoulder-length hair was twisted up in a bun underneath my helmet. I hurriedly slid Pepe’s reins over his head and led him toward his stall. Jesse followed me without a word, and the walk to the barn seemed like forever in the silence that hung heavily between us. All that was heard was the clacking of Pepe’s hooves on the cement sidewalk. As soon as I hooked Pepe’s bridle to the cross tie right outside his stall, Jesse rushed right to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the barn frantically looking left and right, searching for something. He found the tack room and yanked me into the cold and dark space. He quickly shut the door and pressed me against it, both of his palms flat on the wood, his nose at my level, as he breathed me in.