Flicker

She knew.
She has always known.
She has tried to fight the reality of her doomed future since her fifteenth birthday when, like a flash, it all became clear.

She forgot, though, when his eyes met hers that day on the train from London to Paris. Laughter twinkled at her from across the aisle as she peered at him over the top of her novel. She wanted to dismiss the thought that his sapphire gaze was meant for her, but he never stopped staring. Funny, she'd sworn off men, especially those men who smiled at her this way, trying to communicate with no words. She'd declared them all fops, incapable of sending one intelligent thought into her head.
She was good at reading minds.
She thought about telling him off, furrowing her brow, or shooting him daggers with her eyes in an attempt to discourage his probing glance.
But she didn't want to.
Something had set the butterflies in her stomach free from the cage where she held them captive all these years. She dropped her gaze to the printed page for the fourth time, desperate to speak to him, fearing for her heart if she did.
And then, for one moment, a fur-coated woman stepped between their gazes; she felt a tremor of panic in her chest at the loss. As his visage disappeared from view, she vowed from that moment to never lose sight of him again. And so she was decided.
She belonged to him.

A sidewalk cafe on the Rue de Jean-Marie served as their first date. With any other man sitting across from her at the quaint table for two she might have winced at the cliche of it all, but with him she could believe they were the first star-crossed lovers in Paris.
He was so original.
He asked what her favorite drink was and ordered it himself, impressing her with his adventurous spirit. The sun shone off his Hershey curls, and when he threw back his head to laugh at her off-hand quip, her heart did a double take.
Their conversation might have been scripted, so seamlessly did it flow, their mingled laughter sprinkled throughout, spicy chemistry weaving its way around them to create a sumptuous recipe.
Daylight drifted away as they spent the summer evening by the Seine, and when at last the great disc slipped past the horizon, his divine mouth found hers with a sigh. It was a perfect fit, lips clinging together, their bodies hungry for more.
At the door to her hotel he laced his exquisite fingers through hers, his free hand under her chin as he directed her green eyes to his.
"Love is the thing, you know."
She laughed a tear into the warm palm cupping her cheek. Her happiness was uncontainable. They had finally found each other.
And now...

She turns from the black-curtained window, whispering to the moon to give her strength. Her fingers trail the mahogany edge of the wooden bed, its darkness like silk sorrow beneath her skin; she peers down, steeling herself against the onslaught of daggers which wait to shred her heart yet again.
His expressive face lies still, the lips which once laughed delight and ravished her under midnight's moon are frozen in death. She only touched a dead body once, years ago, at her great grandmother's funeral. She shudders at the memory. She knows how cold he will feel under her fingers, like glassy marble, souless and full of ice. No, she will cling to the memory of his warm embrace, the heat of wild nights, the fire of life which radiated from his azure eyes.
The candle-light catches the band encircling the ring finger of his left hand. He was hers for an entire year. It wasn't nearly enough.
And yet, she had always known.

She feels a warm hand on her shoulder.
"Oh, Nicole," she whispers to her best friend as the tears finally spill. She silently sobs into Nicole's embrace, the sorrow buckling her knees. She sinks onto the black leather couch, anger searing through her at the monstrous color. She wipes her eyes.
"I never had a right to love him so hard. No one is allowed to be that happy. The universe saw an imbalance. And the universe had its way."
Her voice is flat, as dead as the body in that cold coffin.
"And I knew!" she cries, louder. Her voices fades again to a whisper. "This was my biggest fear realized. To wait for the One. To find the One. To - lose - the One in the space of a heartbeat. I tried, I truly tried to resist the love that overcame me like a tidal wave when I caught his glance."
She stops, staring at the hardwood floor.
"But I couldn't help it."

Her friend speaks.
"Perhaps you are right, Ali. Perhaps there are always limits to our blessings. But maybe, just maybe, God was giving you a rare gift that only a few humans are privileged to receive. What if this man was a glimpse of your heaven? Hold that thought captive like fireflies on summer nights, let it glow within you and warm the frozen confines of your soul."

She blinks back impending tears as Nicole's words sink in. She knows her friend speaks truth. And she knows that he would agree with her friend. She rests her head on Nicole's lime-green shoulder.
"Thanks for not wearing black."
Nicole chuckles sadly.
"Are you kidding me? You'd lecture me and his ghost would surely find a way to haunt me. Besides, black was never suited to either of you. I've a feeling you've both got a rainbow of an aura."

Ali smiles as she feels the tiniest of flames begin to flicker in her soul.