The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

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ONE NIGHT, KLARISE AND I turned on her music album that she had kept, a few songs she had written but never released. Klarise never wrote songs, mostly sang ones that were written by other songwriters for her. But these songs, I knew at once when I heard them, were written for me and not meant for anyone else. They were good. They were the best.

I turned the music up and offered my hands. "Would you dance with me?"

"How original of us to dance in the middle of the night together." She said as she got up, putting down her pencil and a secret notebook she has been writing and drawing in. Nothing but a pure smile on her expression when she looked at me.

Hands to hands, we stepped with the rhythm. I raised her hand up and spun her, our foreheads leaning against the other as we just enjoyed, the melody leading us.

I know I don't deserve you...but perhaps none of us do with each other ~

Still, as we cut the other thousands of times, you still call me your lover...

"When did you write this song?" I asked, my foot stepping front and hers back.

"Around when I was with my parents and preparing for getting married."

My grip tightened for a second before quickly softening again when I realized I'm holding her hand. "I'm sorry. Every time I think about that bastard and what he did to you I just..." The abuse she endured...

We stopped dancing and she led us back to our bed. The music softened into backgrounds behind our breathing and her warm gaze.

"I should have never let them marry you to him."

She rubs my arms and scooted next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. "There's a lot of things we both regret, isn't there?"

I wrap my arms around her, coiling myself tightly together. Her lavender scent, ever so grand. "Did you ever regret choosing your parents over me?"

She's quiet for a second. Then, "I regret that dumb choice I made everyday. But there's no point in dwelling on all these things now I feel like."

I silently agreed. Our breathing was in the same rhythm. I closed my eyes, my mind milky, on the edge of dreams.

She hummed. Melodies of our youth. Music I've never heard. Songs that never were to the public. I listened and listened.

Her voice soft; the humming stopped. "I don't know how much more time I have left."

My rubbed my eyes awake and stared agape at her. "Stop that. You'll live for a long, long time. Until I get sick of you. And know that is never."

Her smile was sadly compelled as she hugged me tighter. "I'm sorry."

I squeeze my eyes shut, biting back the tears at my throat that stung.

"I know you don't want to, but we still have to talk about this." She pulls back to examine my face. Lifting my chin up high with her finger, she gives me a hard look. "I am so, so, mad at you."

My look is of questions.

"I hate you but not as much as my love for you." My hair is disheveled and she pulls both ends behind my ears. I feel a bit exposed. "You're stubborn and stupid and think you're strong. You are strong, but you hold up until you will break and that makes me scared. I am worried about you when I'm gone."

I bit my tongue. It doesn't stop it. My tears start overflowing off my face, bouncing off like streams.

"You know that the world is full of second chances, right?" Her hand with our identical matching wooden-carved rings, she holds one side of my cheek. Her round brown eyes are resilient. My body was stronger, but Klarise's soul was so much more powerful. In her gaze, I saw that she could hold off almost anything I couldn't. There was a lot I couldn't fight off. "I learned that the day I woke up in that hospital after the car accident. Second chances are always there for you to give out if you're willing. Redemption."

She hasn't said much of anything about the car accident or how she felt. That was her first sentence about it. Though because of that, I cautioned not to ask more. I stared on at her.

"I have Mason's new number and address."

I just gaped at her for several dumb seconds. The words sunk in slowly. I pulled back a little.

"He left us," I said, my face starting to contort up into emotions. "He left selfishly and came back when it was too late. Don't you remember how much of a mess Cameron was because of his leaving? He's the reason Cameron is dead!" Tears wrapped around me. Dark, dark, thoughts reach for me.

Klarise, being the brightness to my ugly, pulls me out. My breath stung. "Cameron died from a car accident because the other driver crashed our car. Cameron is dead, and he's better off somewhere now. I know how cliche that sounds because it's what everyone and every news tablet have been saying, but it's true. He's in another world beyond us; happy. He was the father to our child. More importantly, he was my best friend."

I cried.

"You have to let him go, Maeve." She picked me up, my broken pieces. She nurtured this ugliness and kissed them, looking up to offer me a beauty of a gaze I don't deserve. "Now, you have to focus on the living. Mason is still here. He needs you."

Lavender bushes in the spring. Bloom. The scent spreads, enwrapping all of us. I relish it. This scent would haunt me till the end, I realized then.

"You know," Klarise held my hand tight, "they say that best friends last a lifetime."

She brought out her phone, something she hasn't used while we were in Molokai until now. She pulled out a picture and set it into my hands.

My heart squeezes and shatters, tears making the screen blurry. My grip is uncertain; shaking.

It was a picture of Mason and I, when we were in our late twenties. I'm in pajamas and so was he, the two of us with our arms slung messily around each other, my head leaning on his shoulder while he laid on my own head. The two of us were asleep on the couch. We looked so at peace. I almost laugh when I realize that Cameron must've snuck this photo of us. I could almost see him giggling behind the screen as he captured this.

"Promise me you'll go find him when I'm gone?" Klarise put a hand over mine.

I turned away from the phone, setting it aside. I look her in the eye, her steady waiting for my response. But instead of answering her, I hug her tightly and dip my face into the crook of her shirt. I cry and cry, my pain being let out. She opens her arms wide, breathing, and holds this bundle of mistakes and unforgivable mess.

"You'll be okay, you'll be okay." She repeated softly by my ear as she soothed me.

The picture of Mason and I sat by the side of the bed as I fell asleep in Klarise's arms.