The Angel’s Company

“Cece, don’t get too comfortable in your life of perfection, build yourself to be strong, when a storm hits.” Helena once told me. If only I had listened to her, and understood where she was coming from, as my eldest sister, but I refused to listen, because I viewed her love as jealousy.

Walking down the long road, I couldn’t help, but lose sight of the things around me–my heart burned and ached. I was deep in my thoughts, thinking of where I could quickly end everything. I managed to count the green leaves along the road to try and get my heart rejuvinating, but I lost count several times and started several times over.
“A hundred and nineteen,” a hoarse voice startled me from behind. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He said, and I forced a smile. “I couldn’t help, but notice your pain, is anything the matter?” He asked, and I shook my head. “Well, it’s quite the contrary, for me, I have a lot of things I want to say, and I could use the ear of a stranger.” He told me, but I said nothing.

“I could, perhaps, be of help to someone before the needful happens.” I thought, however, on second thought, I was numb at heart to even care, so I was about to stop him, when he took the wheel with the issue.

“I was the best husband I could ever be. I loved my wife each second of every day, and I viewed my life as perfect–we had been married for thirteen years, and she gave me reason to love her the more, even when I was tired, and exhausted from work. She was different–she was my difference.” He paused for a while, and bowed his head in pain, than shame. “Until one night,” he continued, “my heart turned grey, my eyes; dark red, my veins felt numb and my life stopped for just that moment, watching my wife being shared with another man, no where, but the bed we consciously relayed our vows, and shared as one body. I walked out of the house that night, and took the longest walk of my life. I was confused. Had I not prayed enough for the right woman? Was this the first time? Will I be able to see her as the gold I had mined? My heart was broken. I wanted to run away from the aftermath of what I had seen, and how her shocked, fearful eyes looked at me, when she was caught. I needed to disappear completely–to stop living. She was my wife of thirteen years! I was hurt. I felt more than betrayed. So during my long walk, I managed to find a long rope. I just needed a tree that was hidden, but the tree of my choice saved my life.” He smiled, and I looked at him as a way of prying him to move on, but he didn’t.

“What did the tree do?” The question escaped my lips.

“It had a carved writing.” He told me. “I needed a source of light to tie the rope on the tree, since it was dark, so I took out my phone for that. Immediately I did, the carved writing was enhanced–‘Strength is not found in running away, but dealing with the issues as they come by. Find the pint of light in the dark world, and reignite the strength. It is within you. You are strong, because Your Maker is strong.‘ I have no idea who had that much time to carve the words, but it spoke to me, and I wept bitterly. Immediately I exhausted my tears, a text message came through from my wife–’I will kneel in the cold, till I see you again,’ it read. Knowing that she wanted to see me directed me back home.” He told me, and stopped walking to get me to stop too, then, he spoke the evident truth, “That night, I looked exactly like how you look currently.” He said. “Don’t allow the bitterness of life to ruin the legacy you have worked hard to leave behind. Listen to your husband, and make the right choice for both of you.” He told me with a smile and turned to walk away, but I stopped him with a question.

“Did you stay?” I asked.

He nodded. “I did, because it was the right thing for us.” He told me, and I looked at my phone as it beeped, indicating the fiftieth call from my husband.
When I looked up to ask for his name, I couldn’t find him–not even his shadow. He just disappeared.

Suddenly, I read the message that popped up from my husband–’My soul won’t be at peace, till I find you, Cee.’