Every Bridge For You

The evening of 21st June didn’t end too well for the English heroes as they walked off the pitch after losing their semi final game to their Spanish rivals. Mace Wilson, one of the team’s strongest players(whose birthday, unfortunately, happened to fall that very day), looked particularly irked by the loss. He walked out silently and sat in his car, praying his girlfriend Kristina would get through the crowd as soon as possible so they could get away from all the noise and chaos. He was blankly staring out at the crowds when he caught sight of her and she quickly hopped in.

“Good game Mac,” she said ruffling his hair and kissing his cheek gently.

He wanted to snap back at her and ask if she’d even noticed that they’d lost but decided against it, smiling a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes but which Kristina caught. They got the car through the crowds and got onto the main road home.

All the way back she kept whispering  encouraging things to lift his mood but he just seemed to get broodier by the second. He didn’t utter a single syllable. When their car halted at a signal, she gently brushed her fingers against his free hand but he pushed her hand away, muttering a low but warning “Don’t” and looked out of the window. No one spoke for the remainder of the drive back home.

Kristina was confused by the way he was acting so when the car came to halt before their doorstep, she held his hand firmly, forcing him to look at her. She searched his face for any hint of emotion but it was just a blank wall refusing her entrance into his heart. She was starting to get worried and taking his face into her hands as he continually tried to be as gentle as he could while pushing her away at the same time, she spoke in a hushed tone, “It was just a match Mace, It’s okay. I know you’re upset but you don’t have to kill yourself over it. It’s your birthday, lighten up.”

He breathed deeply, tearing her hands away from his face and bit his lip to stop himself from saying something hurtful. Without making eye contact with her, he opened his door and got out of the car. He usually opened the door for her , but today he just walked into their house without even sparing her a second look. She sat there silently for minutes, wondering what had happened, blankly staring around and didn’t realize when tears had started flowing down her cheeks but by the time she came back to her senses, her vision was so blurred that it took her a good few minutes to realize she was trying to unlock their door using her credit card instead of her key card.

When she went in, she found him sitting on the couch, eyes glued to his phone. He didn’t look up when she entered and continued scrolling his phone. She stopped in front of him as if to say something but decided against it and walked to their room, without a word. She let out the breath she was holding and shutting the door behind herself, slid down to the floor in tears. She crawled slowly and climbed into his side of the bed and engulfing herself in a blanket, continued crying into the pillows till she fell asleep.

Mace sat up straight and gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from running in, taking her into his arms and kissing her cheeks dry. He restrained himself, breathing deeply. “She deserves it,” he told himself. “Does not,” a small voice in his head whispered back. He gritted his teeth and adamantly remained stuck to the spot. He kept his ears pricked to their room and from the lack of sobbing for the past few minutes, he summoned that she’d fallen asleep. He slowly got up and tiptoed to their door, opened it a chink and peered inside. He slapped his hand over his mouth to stop the sob that escaped. He went to the kitchen and drank some water to calm himself down. He returned to their room and knelt down on the ground beside her. Her nose was red from all the crying and her soft curls fell into her eyes hiding behind themselves the bags under them. Her lower lip was pressed between her teeth and a tense, troubled expression wrinkled her forehead. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ran his fingers across her forehead, smoothening the creases with his touch. She stirred. He immediately got up and padded out of the room as fast as he could without making a noise. She sat up hoping that his touch hadn’t just been a dream and looked around to find herself alone.

She went out to find that he was still sitting on the couch, staring into his phone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She gently and cautiously moved towards him and sat down on the couch at a small distance. Slowly and very subtly she shifted closer to him until her arm was touching his. Seeing as he hadn’t moved an inch, she leaned towards him gradually until her head was on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, holding back the waterworks but every now and then a small tear rolled down her cheek. For a second his eyes flickered down to her and he pursed his lips to suppress the sob that was rising in his throat as he looked at her. He unconsciously raised his free arm to wrap around her but he forced himself to stop midway and it fell back on the couch. She looked up at him with pleading eyes but he just looked away. Noticing this, she couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into tears. Tightly holding on to his jumper, she sobbed into it endlessly. He didn’t push her away but he didn’t react either. She buried her head into his jumper again and continued sobbing interjecting it with occasional “Please Mace” and “Come back please” and “Why are you doing this?”

He couldn’t take it anymore and brushing her aside, abruptly stood up and began stomping away towards their room which absolutely outraged her. She wasn’t sad anymore. She was furious. She wanted answers and she was going to get them at any cost. She got up and caught up to him and grabbing his hand spun him around sharply to face her. She glared at him with a resolute countenance but as soon as her eyes met his, she gulped and totally melted down. Her knees went weak and she bowed her head as she broke down again. She was shaking her head from side to side trying to push away the confusion and pain that was crushing her from inside and her weakened fists which had come to rest at his shoulders slowly slipped down to his chest and she rested her head on them. She crumpled down to the ground and now all she was saying was “Why?” She wasn’t even talking to him anymore. She was asking herself, wondering what she could possibly have done. He was hurt too but he continued keeping the emotionless mask on and muttering a sarcastic “Maybe you could read the newspaper for a change”, banged the bedroom door shut after himself. She scoffed. She never read the paper on match days simply for the reason that she just couldn’t read the hateful things said about him because they always ruined her mood.

She stumbled to the kitchen island where the paper always lay and picked it up. The headline announced in bold-“Trouble in Paradise-Backstabbing BFFs?” her gaze shifted down to a picture that covered nearly the entire bottom half of the front page. It was a picture of her lying in the snow with Peter, one of Mace’s best friends. She found it funny how they had conveniently chosen to crop Peter’s girlfriend, Tiana, out of it. She scoffed at it and tossing it aside went to their bedroom door. She was going to pull him out and knock sense into his head. She knocked hard. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“Just go away!” he shouted from inside.

She knocked hard again. By now she was practically banging on the door.

 “I hate you!” came back his voice and this time it broke Kristina. She had raised her fist to bang on the door again. Her fingers went weak and loosened out, resting flat against the door as she slid down to her knees in tears.

Suddenly, amidst all the tension, the bell rang. Mace knew Kristina was in no condition and so opened the door, glancing at Kristina’s small, shrunken form curled up against the wall, on his way out.

He opened the main gate to find himself face to face with none other than his best friend, Peter.

“Ah!” he exclaimed sarcastically, “The man of the moment!”

Rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly Peter speaks, “May I come in?”

“Of course. Are you here to rescue your damsel in distress, Sir?” Sarcasm was dripping off Mace’s tongue.

“Mace. Please. Judging by the way you’re acting, I’m assuming you gave Tia no chance to explain herself?”

“DON’T CALL HER TIA,” Mace screamed.

“Fine!” Peter exclaimed throwing up his hands in defeat. He began to walk in.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mace snapped at him.

“To fix the damage I’m sure you’ve done.”

Sure enough, he found Kristina curled up on the ground against the wall, crying herself sore.

The four of them had always been very close and Peter had almost come to regard Kristina as his sister. It hurt him to see her suffer unnecessarily like this.

He knelt down next to her and lovingly took her hand into his. As soon as she saw him, she threw her arms around him and started crying into his shoulder.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear” she cried, her eyes begging him to do something.

“I know Tia, I know,” he said reassuringly and helped her stand up and walked her to her bed.

Mace’s blood was boiling standing alone outside and hearing their voices.

Peter sat on the bed beside Kristina and calmed her down.

“Mace loves you, Tia. Everyone knows it. Let me talk to him. Then you can explain everything calmly and he’ll understand. Okay?” he said to which she nodded weakly.

Kristina took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down while Peter went out to talk to his best friend.

“Mate?” he said gently placing his hand on Mace’s shoulder.

Since Mace didn’t snap at him, he took it as a sign to continue.

“You love her right?” he asked his best friend, kneeling down before the couch on which Mace was sitting.

Rolling his eyes, Mace turned his away. His eyes fell on a life-size portrait of him and Kristina hanging on the wall and he teared up. He nodded softly and bit his lip.

“Just listen to her once,” Peter told him firmly and went in to get Kristina.

 He sat her on the couch next to Mace and himself went and dropped onto the armchair, head in his hands.

Kristina was literally shivering. She was tongue-tied. Mace cleared his throat and started.

“So, when was this?” he asked, pointing to the newspaper picture casually. She could hear the accusatory ring in his voice, making it all the more difficult for her to speak.

“Th…the week. the weekend you were visiting your si..sister ” she managed to get out between snorts and hiccups.

His mind raced back to the weekend she was talking about. His sister had given birth to twins a few days before and he had wanted to meet them and his sister. Kristina had stayed behind because his family didn’t know about her at the time. He had called her up and told her to go out for a bit with Peter, Tiana and their other friends.

“Going out with our friends doesn’t explain lying in the snow with my best friend,” he scoffed.

Kristina gulped, attempting to get the clarification out and explain as calmly as possible. On the other hand, Peter got awkward and sitting up straighter, suddenly became very interested in the T.V. remote.

He was fidgeting with it when it accidentally flicked on. He fumbled with the buttons, trying to switch it off, accidentally landing on a news channel at which he abruptly stopped, hearing his own name. even Mace and Kristina had put their talk on hold and looked up. A very excited blonde news anchor was excitedly reporting something as if it were raining diamonds.

“Turn that up,” Mace ordered Peter. They’d all caught Peter’s name and had a pretty good idea what it was about. Biting his lip and closing his eyes, Peter turned up the volume to hear the one thing all three were dreading.

“How do you think Mr Wilson is taking this new shock?”

“Is this the reason his performance has been so off in recent weeks?”

“What do you think Mr Peter has to say about this?”

“Do you think this will affect their enviable on-field rapport”

The anchors on every channel were screaming bonkers. Then suddenly a picture flashed on the screen. Kristina was emerging out of a photo studio, her arm linked with Peter’s. The hoarding board of the shop said in bold bright letters- “Weddings, Holidays and Memories!”

Mace let out a sarcastic laugh. Kristina spaced out completely as her jaw dropped open in shock. She softly glanced sideways at Mace. He had been looking down. He raised his head up, glaring daggers at Kristina.

“Have a story cooked up for this too?” he asked in a calm tone that scared her more than anything else in the world-the calm before the storm.

“Macey it’s not what it looks like. I can explain. Please” she begged him to listen, her voice shaking with fear. She shifted closer and took one of his hands into both of hers.

“Please?” she asked again.

He was breathing hard. His eyes were going red. She could feel the anger and hatred radiating off him. Freeing his hand, he stood up and so did Kristina and Peter.

Kristina grabbed his hand again but this time he took it his own and twisted her wrist hard, pinning it behind her back. She let out a painful whimper.

“No. Not again” he whispered warningly and stared her dead in the eyes. Releasing her, he pushed her onto the couch and began to walk slowly towards his room.

“Mace please,” she said standing up and following him.

He took a step towards her and roughly grabbed her face in his palms and shook her head hard.

“I trusted you!” he whispered tears pooling in his eyes. He roughly let go of her, stepping backwards before he hurt her anymore.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY TRUSTED YOU!” he screamed again at her, “I LOVED YOU WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL. I CHANGED MYSELF, MY LIFE, EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN THING FOR YOU. I HATE YOU. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR STUPID, LYING, CHEATING FACE EVER EVER AGAIN. YOU’RE ….YOU’RE A …..”

He breathed deeply and with shaking hands stomped off, banging the door hard, making the entire house rattle.

Kristina crumpled down to the floor in disbelief. Covering her mouth with her hand to hold back the urge to scream herself mad.

Peter offered her a hand but roughly pushed him aside, she stood up and without grabbing even a jacket, stomped out of the house. She banged the door with such force, it broke something behind her but she didn’t care anymore.

 It was over. It was all over. She would never call that place home again. She would never sit and wait inside for Mace to come home and hug him. She would never open that door for their friends. But no one would miss her. Not their friends. Not the birds on the balcony. Not the flowers on the terrace garden. And definitely not Mace. With mind and eyes clouded by grief, she stumbled to the only place she could think of at that time.

Back at their place, Peter had had enough of Mace’s stupidity. He marched to his bedroom and knocked hard on the door. He tried endlessly for minutes but in vain.

Mace’s hand had just turned the handle when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Pushing Peter aside, he ran to open the door. He was disappointed to see a delivery man at the door.

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind at once………

“Wait? Disappointed? Why was he disappointed? Who else was he expecting to see at the door? Surely not his Tia?..........his Tia……….”

“My Tia?” he asked himself in a whisper. He shook his head hard, pushing away her face and her memories that kept popping up in his mind every few seconds. “NO,” he told himself firmly and walked inside with the 2 parcels. He lay them on the coffee table and dropped onto the couch, not even noticing Peter who had returned to his armchair. Mace just sat there with his face buried in his palms. Peter observed him for a few minutes pondering in his head what to say when he suddenly looked up and pushing the box towards Mace whispered the most unexpected thing ever,

“Happy Birthday Bro”

 “What in the name of heaven is wrong with you?” Mace snapped, “Why are you even here? You’re the reason I lost the person I’d ever truly let myself love. Just get out of my house”

“I will. I will.” Peter huffed, sounding relieved and excited. Now everything would get cleared up. Mace would soon realize that Peter and Kristina’s picture together outside the shop meant nothing as he thought.

 Mace was sure he had gone completely mad. Nevertheless, he pulled the boxes towards himself. Atop the big, cubical box was a card that said “Wedding, Holidays and Memories!” The same card was on top of the flat box too.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he opened the flat box. He read the card on top which said-“All the world’s best wishes and hugs for our brother. Love, Pete and Ana”. It was an album. He flipped through the pages, back and forth and back and forth and again and again and again. Every single page was adorned with pictures of him and Kristina and Peter and Tiana- every match, every vacation, every amusement park, every car ride, every single precious second they spent together.

He placed it aside without a word and with trembling hands opened the other. He flipped open the card to find a long message inside in Her handwriting. His eyes zoomed from one corner to the other over her beautiful cursive letters, every syllable dripping with the most selfless, the deepest, the purest love that ever existed.

As tears flowed freely down his cheeks, he opened the box to find a glass globe inside. It was completely covered in his pictures with Kristina and filled with fairy lights. When he fitted it onto the stand that accompanied it and pressed the single heart shaped button on it, the globe lit up and began to slowly revolve on the stand. He teared up. He picked up the card and read it again; over and over again.

“You’re my world,” he read aloud the last line multiple times to himself, imagining her saying it to him. He imagined her loving eyes, her gentle smile, her silky hair; he imagined her soft fingertips gently caressing his cheek as he leaned his head into her hand but alas! It was only in his mind. She wasn’t here. He felt himself shatter as the realization of his mistake dawned upon him.

“I’ve got to find her,” he whispered getting up with a start.

He grabbed the car keys and bolted to the front door. He stopped for a moment when he saw something lying shattered on the ground. He slowly bent down and picked up the broken photo frame. Behind the broken glass stood Mace, on The Pont des Arts bridge in France, the bridge of love, with his arms wrapped around Kristina’s waist, kissing her cheek. One of her hands was on top of both of his, while the other rested on his cheek. Letting the pieces of glass pierce his fingers, he slowly and safely pulled out the picture and tucked it into his pocket. He then rushed to his car and drove at the maximum possible speed to the one place he knew she would definitely be-the tennis court. He left his car at the side of the road and leaving the door ajar, sprinted out to the court area.

Sure enough, he found her standing at the edge of the court, serving the balls at a scary speed. His jaw dropped when he saw one of the balls crack in half as it dropped to the ground. Tears were still streaming down her face at a non-stop pace. He couldn’t pluck up the courage to face her but before he could realize, his feet had carried him to her and then gone numb when he was standing less than a metre from her. She didn’t look back even once and went on serving the balls harder and harder. He kept trying to talk to her and finally managed to get her attention. She groaned loudly and banged the racket on the hardcourt, denting it in the middle. She coughed and stumbled. Everything blacked out before her eyes as she grabbed the edge of the ball trolley to keep herself from falling. She came back for a second before stumbling again and losing her balance, falling unconscious. Mace managed to run forward and catch her right before she hit the ground.

He carefully carried her to the spectator’s steps and lay her down on one of them. He sprinkled a few drops of water on her face, praying to heaven that she would wake up.

She coughed again and suddenly sat upright, looking around confusedly. She saw Mace next to her and the memories of the terrible evening came rushing back. She looked away from him.

He knelt down on the floor next to her and apologized, finally letting his tears fall freely. He took her hands in his and placed his head on her knee, guiding her fingers into his hair, dying to feel her touch. She pulled them away and crossed her arms, not sparing him a single look.

“Tia, please. Please, please, please. I’m begging you. I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I know I don’t deserve your love but give me one chance. Just one chance to be the person that you deserve. Please, my love. Please”

Kristina melted again but refused to look forgiving. She’d been through too much that evening to forgive him so easily.

“Ok. Here’s what we do. I’ll go stand there. You hit me with a serve. Ok? Break my nose if you want to. I deserve nothing less” he offered, desperate to get over with that day.

“That’ll do for me”, she said, standing up with a new racket and a ball.

Mace went and stood on the other side of the net at the spot he knew the majority of Kristina’s serves landed to make sure he was hit by one of the balls. He knew it would hurt but if it meant everything would return to normal he was ready to take a bullet in the head; a tennis ball was nothing.

Kristina tossed the ball up, and was about to hit it with all the force she could muster out of her frustration but subconsciously hit it downwards, making it hit the net.

She picked up another, tossed it to the sky, pulled her racket backwards simultaneously but this time around her racket never came back up. The ball dropped to the ground as did her racket and she sprinted across the court and jumped over the net like a hurdle, stopping right in front of Mace.

Mace was standing there with his eyes closed to make sure he didn’t move when he saw the ball coming at him. He had no idea she was standing right next to him.

Kristina moved closer.

She saw a drop of regret clinging to Mace’s eyelash as it rolled down his cheek.

She took his face in her hands and wiped away the tears with her thumbs. She stared into his eyes, which had now opened to reveal the red puffiness from crying that she hadn’t noticed earlier.

“You idiot,” she tearfully whispered into his ear as his arms tightly wrapped around her back.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m really really sorry Tia” he wailed, burying his face into her hair, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Sshhshhhh,” she soothingly whispered into his ear and dropped her head onto his shoulder as if all the world’s burden had been lifted from both of her own.

 He smiled.

 She smiled.

They pulled apart a little and stared into each other’s eyes.

They smiled again, staring at each other like lovesick fools- each asking the other why they made it so so difficult to imagine a world without them, let alone live a life.

“Lovely though you look in my jersey, we really can’t let you freeze now, can we?” he asked playfully. 

As they laughed through their tears, he slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He tucked her into it and tugged at the sides pulling her closer to himself. She lost her balance and stumbled into his arms. As their lips met, fireworks erupted in their hearts and they stood there clutching onto each other for ages. They walked back to their car hand in hand. As she slipped her other hand into the jacket pocket for warmth, she felt something inside. She pulled it out and smiled at the picture before folding it and neatly slipping it back in.

 "I'll cross every bridge for you," she silently whispered in her mind, looking at Mace with a soft, sad smile playing on her lips. As he got into the driver’s seat next to her, she gently reached out for his hand, which this time he carefully took and tenderly kissed before resting his forehead on. They drove back home. Mace got out and opened Kristina’s door for her and after shutting it behind her, swept her off her feet and carried her in…….into their house, their home, their heaven.