anOldShu

She came in, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop for Jacob. Heather’s eyes seemed to blend with the star-draped sky that spread behind her. Her pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, making her playful red smile stand out even more. Jacob felt drawn to her, as if she were the only thing in all the world. Although he stood within the whirls of time itself, for that one moment, immortality had been granted.

Courage had never been Jacob’s strong suit; in fact, it was his weakness. But something smoldered within him—a quickening, a rushing, a sudden need to seize the moment lest some great and horrible tragedy strike and doom him to spend the rest of his days wondering, “What if?” With a spring of confidence he had never felt before, Jacob surged through the crowd until he stood before her.

Their eyes met—Jacob’s and Heather’s. Breath caught in his throat, uneasy anticipation was stifled behind her smile. He began to speak, but she was whisked away by another man, her date—a man Jacob knew, a rival. Her face made an awkward, unnatural expression, but she followed her date away “into better company” because it was what was proper.

What was proper? What was proper? Propriety, class, the right thing to do for civilized folk—these thoughts played over and over in Heather’s head. She was distracted for a while during her wedding, but soon the thoughts crept back in. They plagued every quiet moment, so she kept busy; a child or two saw to that. When the children were grown and gone, she took pride in being prim and proper, ensuring her family embodied everything civilized. Yet in the twilight hours of the night, Jacob’s face danced back into her mind. She would see him in the flames of her fireplace, in the small flicker of a candle, and in the spark in her daughter’s eyes when she followed her heart, bringing both embarrassment and a secret sense of pride.

Can love ever be anything but an insidious killer? A killer of the most vile kind? A poison apple fed to the starving? So that when our lives are over, we see in the flame a future that could have been—a Jacob.

Or is love everything…