The Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny

“Shards of a Broken Heart”

By

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

© 2009

1

‘If love lasts forever, Jonathon. If love, with all its great mystery, gentle heart, and tender kisses………. If love really does last forever Jonathon, do you love me? Do you really love me?’ Jonathon looked at Kirstie, and waved the curls of her blonde hair, flowing in the gentle summer breeze, away from her simple yet elegant face. The wind blew in the poplars of Glebe Park, just near were they were laying on the green grass, in the heart of the nation’s capital, Canberra, and Jonathon observed them for a moment, almost lost in thought. He did not respond instantly. No, that was not his way. And while, in truth, he did not view himself as the reserved type of individual many had often taken him for, he was honest enough to admit to himself a fair degree of caution guarded the heart of Jonathon Kolby.

He looked at her momentarily, and put up his hand to brush away the curls from her face. Jonathon Kolby could not speak honestly at this moment. At this moment, with such a sincere question – a question from a heart truly devoted to himself, in a way more than simple friendship spoke of – he could not honestly respond. But, looking at her, seeing the sincerity, the sheer intensity on the face of his closest friend, he knew he must answer. But what answer can a heart, a heart of broken shards, ever so closely guarded…….. What answer can such a heart really give?

He began, slowly, but sensitively. ‘I, I. Oh, you know Kirstie. You know how I feel.’

‘But that is just it Jon. I don’t. You have never really said, you know. Never really let me know. It is why I asked.’

She looked at him, her earnest face demanding more of him than a simple ‘You know.’ It demanded more than such a response from a heart seemingly not yet willing to grant her the grace of honesty she truly desired.

Jonathon looked at her, made as if to wave the curls from her face, but she caught his hand suddenly, and looked right at him.

‘I want to know, Jonathon. I want to know!’ she demanded.

‘But we are friends, aren’t we. Close friends. Why do you want to mess with that? Why not let it be. In time, perhaps. Perhaps in time I can say the things you want to hear. But not yet, Kirst. Not now.’

She looked at him, and her face spoke a thousand words.

‘So you don’t love me.’

‘I didn’t say that. You’re putting words into my mouth.’

‘But you didn’t say you did,’ she retorted.

‘No I didn’t,’ he replied softly, again brushing the curls from her face, this time her allowing him.’

She looked at him, the cute frown on her forehead ever a source of delight to him, and turned to look away. She was disappointed. He knew well she was disappointed. But that could not be avoided. In no real way, at this present time, could that dilemma be avoided.

Eventually she returned her gaze. ‘Well are you fond of me? Can you at least tell me that much?’

‘Of course I am Kirstie. Most fond. But to say more than that. To say more than that with the way may heart has been treated in the last few months. Well, not even I am that brave.’

‘I understand,’ she responded. But did she, really, thought Jonathon.

Silence descended and Jonathon took another bite of the apple he had started. It was their usual affair, now, eating lunch together. They worked in a public service department just near the park and for the past three weeks had started sharing their lunch times. Neither party, really, had suggested the idea, yet it had come about more out of a genuine friendship and desire to simply share some time together. They had both gone out to lunch, found each other in the park, and from there it had quickly become a tradition. And Jonathon had, with the state of his heart after his recent break-up, found himself healing in a therapeutic manner in his lunchtimes with Kirstie. But while in Kirstie he found an outlet of sympathy - the soft feminine touch – Kirstie it appeared had now started thinking something and expecting more of Jonathon than he had really at this stage desired. But could she really be blamed?

‘Well, are we still on for the movies on Friday night?’ Jonathon hoped mentioning this planned outing together would distract her.

She turned to him, smiled and nodded gently. ‘Yes. Yes, we are still on. I suppose if movies are what you want out of our friendship I can oblige.’

He sensed the slight bitter tone in her statement, but thought better of responding. Perhaps better to not say something to cheer her up that he might regret later.

‘Good. It is the latest Batman. It should be excellent. Unless you want to see something else, of course. I will understand if you do.’

‘Perhaps something a bit softer, Jon. More human.’

‘Oh, ok. So you don’t like action.’

‘It’s not that. I just don’t think I am in the mood for a Batman movie this week.’

‘Ok. Well, we will choose when we get there. How about that?’

‘Fine.’

Yes, she was upset. It seemed what she had asked him had been on her mind for a little while, perhaps soon after their starting lunches together. And he had not given her the answer she wanted, or at least desired. But his heart, at this time, could not help that situation. She would just have to live with it.

After a while Kirstie seemed to brighten up a little, and they finished their lunch and returned to their offices. All that afternoon, though, Jonathon could tell there was a heart which needed attention, and while today was Wednesday and the movies still two days away, he would think of some way to brighten her up tomorrow. For, in fact, while he could not commit to the words she wanted to hear, she was really, in truth, the kind of person he felt, in time, he could do. And perhaps wanted to.

So he would tread carefully for now, and let the night heal a heart, and tomorrow treat her to something special.

There are 15 more chapters in the full short novella.

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