“I don’t want to be richer,” I told the manager. “This money is my husband’s sweat and blood. I don’t want to gamble with it. I just want security.”
I went back to Daniel’s hometown. This time, I asked my in-laws for permission to renovate the family home.
“Mom,” I told my mother-in-law, “this is the money Daniel is giving you. If he can’t take care of you, I will in his place. Don’t refuse it or he won’t rest in peace.”
I stayed for a week cooking, cleaning, and talking with them. I told them about their son’s immense love. Those stories eased their pain and healed my wounds. I understood that the best revenge against pain is not hatred, but living happily. Daniel had sacrificed himself so that I could be happy. So, I had no right to be miserable. I had to live intensely to enjoy every second for both of us.
With a portion of the monthly interest, I made anonymous donations to the Cancer Patient Assistance Foundation at the hospital where Daniel was treated. I believed that from somewhere, he could see it and would be proud.
A year later, Carmemell by the Sea greeted me with a fine mist rolling in from the Pacific. I was sitting in a small cafe overlooking the ocean, just as Daniel had promised for our never realized honeymoon. In front of me was a glass of red wine and an empty chair.
“I’m here, Daniel,” I whispered, raising my glass to the empty seat. “Camel is beautiful, just like you said. The coffee is delicious, and the wine is bitter at first, but sweet at the end, just like our life.”
I took a sip, watching the couple stroll by. I felt no envy, no pity. I felt that Daniel was there, right beside me. I never remarried or sought a new love. The love I experienced was so profound that any other feeling seemed bland in comparison.
I took out the black card and placed it on the table, smiling.
“See, I’m spending your money. I’m staying in a five-star hotel, eating at Michelinstarred restaurants. I’m buying designer handbags. I’m being very bad. Does it hurt you? If so, show up and scold me.”
The ocean breeze rustled my hair. I thought I heard his deep, affectionate laugh in the wind.
“Spend it, honey. I earned the money so you could spend it. As long as you’re happy.”
I put the card away and stood up. I would continue my journey. After Carmel, New Orleans, and then a drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. All the places he had written in his journal that he wanted to visit with me.
I would travel for his tired legs. I would see the world for his closed eyes. I would live a life that was free, without ties or regrets.
I walked out of the cafe and into the crowd. The caramel sky, clear after the mist, was a brilliant blue. A vibrant rainbow arched across the sky over the bay. I lifted my head and took a deep breath of the fresh, free air.
Here I come, Daniel. Our journey is still long. I walked with a light, steady step.
