After we'd shared our words, it was my turn, and I took out the guitar. A flicker of recognition came to Felix's eyes, sparking hope inside me. I knelt down in front of Francois's grave, showing him the instrument. “You always did like when I played, so I thought I might play some for you and for Felix. I hope you don't mind.”
I started my first song, one that I'd never played for them before, but by one of my guitar heroes, and one of the greatest guitarists of all time. Eric Clapton had written it for his son, but the words were timeless and were applicable. I wasn't the only one in tears as I started the lyrics to Tears in Heaven, and I had to give up on the singing three-quarters of the way through in order to focus on my playing. When the last notes drifted into the night, I smiled, even as I continued to cry. “I love you, Francois. Now, lend me your strength.”
I looked at Felix, who was also moved by my song, and who'd knelt down next to his brother’s grave, watching me as I adjusted my feet and wiped the tears from my face. “Francois loved this one too, but this song is for you, Felix.”
I strummed once and started the fingering for Aerosmith. It had been one of the first songs I ever played for him and was the song that changed the way we looked at each other. No other song had as much shared meaning between us, and no other song I could think of might unlock the memories buried in his brain.
The first chorus started, and a miracle appeared in front of me. Felix's eyes widened, and he started to mouth along with my, singing, his voice growing in strength and volume as the song continued. By the last chorus, he was singing along with me fully. I let the last note linger, looking at my love as he climbed to his feet and reached for my hand. Francois's guitar slipped from my fingers, thankfully caught by the sling I was wearing, where I unconsciously slid it around to my back.
“Jordan . . . oh my Jordan,” Felix said, pulling me into an embrace. “How’d you know this would bring it all back?”
“I didn’t, but I hoped,” I whispered, holding him and squeezing. “You're back with me now, and I'm never letting go of you again.”
Felix pulled his head back and brought his right hand up to stroke the hair out of my eyes. “Tomorrow, let's make it official,” he said. “I don't want to wait — let's get married. With that we’ve been through, with all that we’ve shared, I think both of us know that we’re meant for each other.”
He lowered his lips to mine, and we kissed, over a month's worth of separation and pain washing away in a single touch of his lips to mine. Knowing that his brother would not only not care, but be supportive, our tongues came out to caress one another, our kiss deepening to the point that nothing else existed in the universe but each other. When we finally stopped, we both stepped back, noticing the “awww” from Charani and Syeira, who were holding hands, and even though both were still crying, we were smiling at the same time. “Sorry.”
“Never be sorry for love. Francois is happy,” Charani said. “Now go, and bring love to this day. We'll stay out here a while longer.”
Felix and I nodded and turned, walking back toward the main house hand in hand. “I thought Charani's English was better than that,” I remarked as we walked. “Shouldn't it be Francois would be happy?”
“In her point of view, no,” Felix remarked, taking my hand and interlacing his fingers with mine. “To her, my brother's spirit is still alive, and will be as long as there are people who remember him.”
As we walked, I let loose with the one worry still in my heart. “Felix, I know you love me, and we're going to do what is right, but I do have a question.”
“What’s that?” Felix asked, slowing the pace of our walk.
“Do you have feelings for Svetlana?” I asked. “Just, I've overheard some of the things you've muttered in your sleep.”
Felix stopped, and took a deep breath. “It wasn’t real,” he said finally. “I know that I love you and that I had to be on some seriously fucked up drugs to even forget that for a moment. But despite her being a deceptive person, there is a good in her . . . I think.”
“And she's hotter than her country is cold,” I teased back. Felix stammered, and I laughed. “It's okay. Not that I'm saying we need to drive back to the Ukraine and invite her to Paris for tea and sandwiches or anything.”
Felix pulled me in close, his eyes warm and unshadowed for the first time since Paris. “This is why I could never find a woman better than you,” he whispered, stroking my back. “Regardless of the drugs, regardless of the conditioning, I'd never have fully forgotten you. I'm sorry it took a while to remind me of myself.”