Healing Hearts

A Nice Vacation

NOTE: I recommend the following song for this chapter:

Brothertiger - "Shelter Cove"

August 21, 1919

(Maria Nikolaevna Romanova's POV)

Many things had changed in my life. My parents had passed. My sisters and brother had all died needlessly. It had broken me and drained my spirit. I had been lost and empty, merely existing. But sweet Louis had remained with me, tending to me as I laid desolate in heart. He made me alive again, but much remained unfinished.

I had it all. And I had lost it all in the Revolution, leaving me to pick up the shreds of my prior life and begin anew.

It was one thing to listen to Mama and Papa about forgiveness and loving your enemies, but to do such a thing...

No, I was not ready. I feared losing Louie as well, although I wanted him. I had lost Mama, Papa, and my siblings for the rest of my years on earth. The thought of losing anything else terrified me more than my memories of house arrest. Images returned to me, and I froze in the middle of my stroll by Osborne Beach.

The guards leering at my sisters and I.

The obscene jokes they made about Mama and Father Grigori.

Our fear of not knowing where we would be moved.

The angry mobs outside, shouting for the death of my family-

"Maria, are you feeling well?"

Louis placed his warm, strong right arm around my shoulders. I felt weak, pathetic. My sad blue eyes welled up with tears again. Louis stroked my brown hair to comfort me, yet I wept again. And I did not understand why! What was wrong with me?

"Shh.... Shh... you are safe. Those damn Reds are far away from England. No one can hurt you now."

He led me to a shaded place below a large, towering oak tree with long branches. A crown of orange, yellow, and brown leaves decorate them under the morning sun. A few leaves fell around us as the English sea breezes blew.

It was only us two, sitting below that tree. There, he allowed me to weep without any disturbances. It was our moment together. He would be my leader, my protector. Almost like my strong, kind, Papa...

The thought stung me even more, and I sob again. I covered my disgusting snotty nose, watery eyes, and tear-streaked cheeks with my hands. I was a terrible mess. Ugly. Broken. Unwanted.

I had attempted to take my own life.

I had once given up on living in the world.

But Louis never saw me as undesirable or broken, even if he felt angry or frustrated with me. Once again, as he once said, I needed to find my way. Still, I did not understand his words on that day. Perhaps, someday I may.

My tears subside, giving way to hitching breaths and whimpers. Louis had a somber expression on his face, looking down with narrowed gray eyes. I am sorry, they seemed to say.

He wiped my face with his extra handkerchief, wiping away my sorrows with each tender stroke. He was so kind to me although I was undeserving of it. Louie. My little savior. The bringer of my deliverance. I feel a wanting, a longing to be with him... but the pain still aches.

"Maria?"

"Yes, Louie?"

"I plan to visit the French Riviera in Nice, France. It is a wonderful place. Would you accompany me there?"