My wife had emerged from seemingly nothing. She was beautiful and flowering in everlasting emotion. The day I had met her solidified that fact, gallivanting in the tall grass fields and bursting bloom sunlight, shining our shadows below, leaving whatever darkness behind.

I was thirteen at the time, and she was fourteen. It always made her laugh that she was older than me, but twenty years later, it didn’t seem to matter all that well. We didn’t have a child before or after we were married. It took us a very long time to get ready. Not only did I not like kids, but she didn’t want them either, but for different reasons.
“I don’t know,” she responded whenever I asked if we shall have children. I would rub her hair in bed, and tell her I love her, everyday. I knew what was good for us, at least I thought.
The next morning would be either sunny or cloudy, thus picking the general mood of the day. On cloudy days, we’d have fights, on sunny, we’d be swell.
After we were married, I bought us a house, thus moving us out of the cramped apartment. Then, she was ready for a child. Birthing him was the “greatest experience of her life.”
So, why didn’t she stick around for the other one?
Nevermind that, I was just thinking to myself in a more cynical way.
We named him Anthony Junior, after me. His middle name was Jeremy, from my wife’s father. Her name was Bella. Just saying the name makes it sound sweet.
“Bella,” I’d often say to myself, holding her deeply in my arms and enticing her in, making her feel like she was or would be a part of me. It was one of the things I missed, before her mind was gone elsewhere.
“What do you mean he’s not ready? We’ve had this kid for a year!” she would scream at me, lighting up a cigarette on the balcony.
“I mean he’s only a year old, what do you want me to do?”
“You were the one who wanted this kid!” she exclaimed, taking another puff of the cigarette and pointing viciously at me. “I always wanted to live a happy married life, like those rich women on TV, but I guess we can kiss that goodbye!”
“Jesus, you are insane, aren’t you? What in God’s name happened to you?” I yelled back.
Trust me, this would go on for hours.
Even on the sunny days, she wasn’t herself anymore. Even on the cloudy days, she wasn’t the most vicious. It was all the time. 24/7, like clockwork.
My new job was even harsher, the CEO raining down a financial storm like no one else’s business. Quite literally, in fact. I worked at a hardware manufacturing company and I was almost immediately shot up to the near top of the ladder. I’d been working there basically my whole life, and they felt like I needed a higher boost. Here I am today, even more miserable than the last.
I’d walk in with my bagged lunch and my even baggier eyes, sagging below what was impending to be my utter depression for my life. Sure, I made money, and I had a family, but it had been the biggest letdown of my life. I can still hear AJ crying while me and Bella were fighting on the balcony.
I sat there, eleven hours a day, typing reports, taking inventory, and making contacts with other hardware stores. I never really knew the ins and outs. Well, I did, at one time, but now I never worried about how much things worked, that was for the electricians and the lower guys to deal with. I already have five numbnuts working for me, I didn’t need any more.
I sipped on my coffee at my desk, hearing the latest from a buddy of mine in the same position. He was in charge of the national and overseas operation, unlike me, only in charge of the national. So, in a sense, he was higher, but they marked him in the same position. I sighed as he turned to talk to me. I loved being honest sometimes. It gave everyone a glimpse into how I lived.
“I missed the national anthem at the game yesterday,” he said to me.
“Oh, did you, Mark?” I would sarcastically say. His detection of it was rather low, however.
“Yeah, it sucked. I was late because of my wife.”
“I know that feeling,” I said, chuckling to myself.
“What do you mean?” he asked me.
“I mean my wife is a hyper, manipulating, horribly dysfunctional person incapable of loving anyone but herself. So, she drags down me.”
“Is that why you’re so mopy?”
“Look, Mark, I got work to do here,” I said, shooing him away and rubbing my forehead, more tired than I ever thought I would be in my entire life. After that, all I heard was machines whirring and distant typing on large, black, thick keyboards. I sat by myself until my hour lunch break, and then worked for six more hours. Going home, however, was the worst type of pain. I hated being here, but I hated being there.
Driving home, I felt an almost numbness in my hands. I would feel worse at the hands of my wife’s wrath. As soon as my home’s door opened, I saw her coming down the stairs, shoving another cigarette into an ashtray.
Before I knew it, she was forty years old. How the time passed me by. She had grown and fallen over the years, and it had been twenty-three years since we met each other, since we had nothing. I remember the teen days we’d hang out on my porch, when we didn’t know where it was going, where anything was going, why everyone was leaving, why her parents had died. It was a time of pure innocence, all of which built up and had chased after her.
Our son was like a memory of me, he reminded me of the opposite of Bella. AJ felt so free, and often spent time in the backyard, jumping and picking flowers for his mom, as I did. He was now seven years old, a cute kid, puffy cheeks and small hands, throwing them about as he blew bubbles and danced to music in the sunlight.
“You think you’re the only one who didn't expect this?” Bella screamed, interrupting my thoughts of my only son.
“No. I’m just saying--”
“Having me babysit while gallivanting with your high-corporate stature, really making a nice piece for your life!”
“Maybe if I didn’t constantly have a crazy woman b**** and moan to me, I could relieve a little more stress and actually spend time with my son. Because, you're right, my job is extremely stressful and I don’t exactly want to be here, with my wife, who I can’t begin to bear anymore!” I yelled, immediately regretting what I had said.
She stormed away, unsurprised at what I had lashed at her. I stood there, throwing my suitcase down and laying on the couch, my abode for the evening. My abode for every evening.
The next morning, there was hell to pay. I saw my wife smoking near the kitchen table, holding her arm like a scalded child. I sat across from her, staring into her baggy, sad eyes.
“Good morning,” I said to her.
“Hey,” she weeped back.
“I’m sorry.” I looked down with remorse. “I love you. Always have. I never want--” she interrupted me by sliding a pregnancy test across the kitchen table.
“I’m pregnant,” she said, “Have a look.”
I looked down at the test as it showed positive. I held my mouth for a minute and looked up at her. A tear left her eye.
“I don’t wanna bring another kid into this,” she told me. “I can’t do it again.”
“How could you say that?” I looked at her in disgust and disbelief. “When we met, this was the biggest dream we could wish for. Now you wanna throw it all away.”
“We should move then,” she said, “Go someplace. I don’t know, I just can’t stand being here. Illinois’s been a wasteland of horrors unstruck, and it’s also been one that has damned me to the point of no return. I need something else.”
Her proposition was either Florida or New York, so I chose New York, as it was cheaper to fly too. My job understood, and had me manage the stores online.
When we packed, we were silent. No words to each other. No talks about life. None about the kid. None about the wasteland of Illinois.
After we moved, though, she seemed more alive than ever, and less miserable than before. Whenever we fought, we didn’t. It was like a Godsend. She had become an angel again, and now her baby was on the way, a little girl to accompany our son.
He was struggling with his friends during the move, trying to make some new ones. It seemed good, though, that they all spoke the same language. At least we didn’t move to Indonesia or Mexico or some other country.
AJ stayed quiet for the first few days. We had a riverside mansion south of New York, so we helped him by teaching him fishing.
After regaining his strength, our first daughter was born. She was a miracle of heaven, gazing as Bella did in her earliest days, almost an exact replica. In fact, it was unnerving to see such a similar person to that of their mother. It was like cloning an angel.
“Look at her,” Bella said, holding her, gasping for breath after the operation, “She’s beautiful.”
I looked at her, sitting across from her and taking off my surgical equipment. It was the first time she ever saw me cry, staring at her, holding my beautiful new daughter. The babysitter dropped AJ off soon after, and he got to carry his sister for the first time. It was truly mesmerizing to see.
About two days later, Bella was ready to return home. While I was at work, she would rock there for hours, nursing her baby, telling her it was going to be okay. We even named her Bella after her mother.
Our home was looking better than ever, as well, we had an interior decorator spice the place for the baby. For the first time, I invited family to my house, so they could see what I had accomplished.
My father, Gregory, came over with my mother, Jeanette. My brother, Josh, had flown over from Seattle.
“This is a nice place you got here,” Greg said, holding a glass of wine and observing the ceiling, which had sparkling chandeliers and pale-orange walls.
“How’s Bella doing?” Jean asked me.
“She’s good, taking care of our new kid,” I said, “Not gonna lie, I was nervous because of AJ and her history, but she’s really come around this time.”
“Can we see them?” Josh asked. I nodded my head and motioned them to follow. I led them into the second living room upstairs, where Bella and her counterpart had been sleeping. They just woke up and went back to “talking” to each other.
I opened the door ever so slightly to give her a warning I was coming in.
“Oh, hello there!” Bella said, surprised, “You two must be Anthony’s parents.” Jean and Greg nodded. Josh stood there, hands in his pockets.
“And, Josh,” she finally said, “So great to meet all of you. Anthony still has yet to meet my family.”
“Well, we’re glad to be here, you truly look beautiful, Bella,” Greg said, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Yes, as always, congratulations, Bella, on your new child. She’s stunning,” Jean said, replicating Greg. Josh still stood there, nodding.
“Thank you all so much,” she said, “You have no idea how much we appreciate it.” They nodded in unison as I stood there with a giant smile on my face, perhaps the largest smile I’ve ever had in my entire life.
Bella and her happiness made me happy, which in turn made her even more happy.
It was perfect.
While it lasted.

A year after Bella was born, her mother fell ill. All of the sudden, she began acting like a child, freaking out and smashing plates all around. I had hid Bella in her crib as she sobbed, terrified at her mother’s actions. AJ stood at the top of the stairs and watched me attempt to control her.
“Bella, it’s okay!” I yelled. I grabbed her and she fell to the ground with me. She sobbed loudly and uncontrollably.
“Why?” she would scream. “Why?!” The way she sobbed sent chills down my spine as I held her, rubbing her hair and shushing her.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” I said to her, “Remember the lights? The city, when we used to come here?” She nodded. “Okay, baby, just think of them. The lights, flashing as models ran themselves through broadway. The lights of New York, just remember them for me. Think of the happiness and calm you felt.”
She fell to the ground, unconscious.
Everything suddenly, instantly, was lost in a haze of her memory. When I took her to the hospital, the doctor looked worried. He sat across from me and AJ, Bella sleeping in a baby carrier.
“I, uh, don’t really know how to tell you this,” he began.
“Doc, I’ve been in this ICU for two hours. What’s wrong with her, and don’t mince words,” I sternly told him.
“Your wife is suffering from a severe case of early onset dementia. Now, she’s in stasis right now, so we have her under control. But out of all the stages, she’s in the most severe--”
“So, what does it mean?” I asked. He shook his head.
“We’ve given her about one year,” he told me, “I’m sorry. I’ll give you some time to process this.” He patted me and walked away. I began to sob, as AJ next to me did the same. I held him close to me, rubbing his head.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
I knew I was. For bringing him and his sister into this.
One week later, they allowed me to see her. It was almost impossible to bear.
“Hey,” I said, walking in and shutting the door, leaving AJ and Bella outside together. He was old enough to handle her.
“Are you going to operate on me?” she asked. I shook my head slightly, kneeling next to her.
“Do you know me, Bella?”
“You’re Jack from the county park. I remember you stole that candy bar from me.” She started laughing. “You remember? Oh, I got so mad. Had to see my Anthony to take care of it for me.”
“I am Anthony,” I told her. “My name is Anthony, Bella, your husband. Do you remember me?”
“Ugh, stop hovering. I told the doctor that strange man from another galaxy was here to see me. Oh, he loves to dance, too.” I looked shocked and destroyed. I stood up and looked down at her.
“I--I gotta go,” I said, “I’m sorry, honey. I gotta go back to our lights of New York.” I walked away and opened the door.
“A-Anthony?” she asked me right before I left. I turned over to her.
“Bella? You remember me?”
“Yes, of course. W-what are we doing in this place? I-I don’t get it,” she said, looking panicked and frazzled all of the sudden.
“Bella, this is where you live now,” I told her.
“No, I don’t understand. Anthony, where are we?”
“We’re--” I stopped myself for a second and knelt back next to her. “We’re in New York. You and me are outside our balcony at our riverside mansion. You’re sipping on some wine and looking at broadway and all of the lights of New York, and the sky is full of stars, twinkling like the lights, everlastingly.”
“Oh, I see it,” she said, relaxed, “I-It’s all so clear now. What are we doing here?”
“We’re drinking and talking. All of your family is over for me to finally meet. And we’re talking about the lights we see, the bright sparkling lights of New York.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Can you see the lights of New York, Bella?” I asked. She nodded slowly.
“Yes, they’re so... enlightening.”
Bella and me held hands there, as she finally began to see the lights of New York again.

But, one year and three months later, Bella had died. Her daughter wasn’t even in preschool yet. AJ was only eleven years old, in the fifth grade. He was smart like a whip, too, he had caught wind of what happened to his mother. Poor Bella never knew. Her mother was a shadow of her and the same grey clouds me and Bella experience rained down on us for days.
But no more fights. No more dancing. No more anything. All the lights of New York had shut off.
AJ wanted to go live with his uncle Josh. He was at that phase where he thought he knew everything and thought I wasn’t a good influence. I was so hurt by Bella’s death that I didn’t care anymore, and I just wanted to take care of Bella 2, the only living memory of the original.
I stopped working on night, at six, and walked downstairs to see my little Bella, walking for the first time.
“Da-ad,” she said, her voice so sweet and innocent, as she moved her stubby arms and legs across the floor, by herself, then standing on her feet. I knelt down and watched her, my hands together and resting beneath my nose.
“Da-a-addy!” she said, walking towards me. I watched her, the images of the late Bella flashing in my head. Her innocence was infectious. After AJ had left, all I had was her. I watched her walk, crying as she neared me. I couldn’t bear it.
“Mommy,” she then muttered, looking all around. I caught her before she fell to the ground. I chuckled as she giggled uncontrollably.
“Mommy!” she called for. I looked up and all around, the smile slowly being wiped from my face. Her mommy was gone, but she wasn’t nearly old enough to understand it.
“She’s gone for vacation,” I said, “She’s gonna be back real soon, though.”

Sooner or later, I filed for early retirement. The package left for me in 401K was collected the same week. The amount of money I gained, and I had no family to share it with.
“Dad,” Bella said to me when I got home, holding my check.
“Yeah, Bella?”
“These kids at school were talking about their ‘moms’ and I wasn’t really sure what the concept of that was,” she said.
“You are wise beyond your years.” I chuckled. “Come with me upstairs. I think it’s time you’re ready to hear this.” I began walking with her up the stairs.
I threw my check on my desk in my bedroom. Bella’s side of the room remained the same since before she died. I never wanted to change it, never wanted to let go. Bella 2 sat on Bella’s bed and looked closely at me, to assure that she’s listening. I sighed deeply.
“You had a mother,” I told her, “A ‘mom’. Her name was Bella, like you, and she was the sweetest and most innocent thing ever, and I loved her, so much. She had early onset dementia, you know what that is?”
“It’s like a thing where old people can’t remember stuff. They lose control of their minds, too,” she explained. I nodded.
“Right, and she got it early in her life, at around 45 years old. She died before they could cure it. The meds helped her, but she would never be the same. It killed her. She’s been gone for, oh, well, uh, about... twelve years now, I think,” I described, her face full of sorrow now. “And that was her bed,” I said, pointing. “Her and me used to sleep on it together, every night, when we bought this place. And, no, don’t think of it in that way, I mean, as partners, we were a real team.” I nodded slowly to myself, visualizing the memory of the late Bella. “She made me promise to never love anyone else as much as I love her. But since you carry the same name, it’s kind of a loophole. You know, you’re almost a replica of her. You’re getting around the age I met her. She had the wits too, smart as all hell, just like you. I just hope you don’t fall under what she did. I hope in my retirement I could learn to raise you in a way I never did with AJ. I want to love you, my only daughter. Every time, though, I see Bella, and it’s been hard to bear the pain. You have no idea.” A tear left my cheek. I blew my nose as she sat there, choking up in sadness and disbelief. She looked over at my computer screen as I cried.
“What’s that?” she asked me, pointing. “‘The Lights of New York’?” I looked over at it and back to her. I nodded slowly.
“Yeah,” I said, “It’s the compiled memories between me and my wife. I’m gonna show it to my family in hopes that they can get a glimpse of her entire life, and appreciate the sacrifices she made.”
“Where’d you get the title?”
“Me and her had a dream of moving to New York. Could never get it off the ground until she was pregnant with you. We always admired how bright the city was, and we always referenced ‘the lights of New York’ as our binding, as what kept us alive. It even lived after she died,” I explained.
“Wow,” she said, “You named it after your saying? The city?”
“Correct. The Lights of New York.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said.
“Yeah, so am I,” I told her, “So am I.” She hugged me and I held her there for a while. It seemed like forever, but it really lasted an instant.
“God, you’re just like her,” I said before she left, smiling as she closed the door. I looked down, regretful and filled with sorrow. I tried blocking the images out of my head, but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t stop myself from seeing it.
The feeling of her loss, I didn’t want to block it. I wanted to see it, it was so important to see in order to keep myself alive. To keep everything alive.
Later that day, I walked along the path at the park. The sunlight made the grass feel what I couldn’t. It breathed with me, but never lived like me. They got cut, they died eventually, but they barely lost what I had lost. Watching it wave as I walked with my hands shoved in my pockets was the most devastating reality I ever faced since Bella was taken away from me.
I gotta leave this place, but I never wanted to leave her behind. Not ever. The house was forever a memory of the lights of New York, and the memory of what we loved. What we had loved, so much.
My daughter would preserve things better, be mentored better. I was sure of it, and she would stay in the house.
Later that week, I flew over to where AJ was staying, at Josh’s. I knew he would let me see him, but AJ’s presence made me nervous.
When I made it there, I was already regretting the decision.
“Hi there,” I said, after knocking on Josh’s door and he answered quickly.
“Hey, Anthony,” he said, “Been waiting for you. AJ’s in the kitchen, he just got done eating.”
“Thanks.” I walked in and took off my shoes, as the sign across the door has instructed me.
“Sorry,” Josh said, throwing his arms to the side, “House rules.”
I walked into the kitchen and stared at AJ for a minute. He looked so sweet and innocent in the sunlight, his hair was long and perfectly lit up.
“Hi there, AJ,” I said, “Long time, no see.”
“Yeah,” he told me, “Hey, Dad.” He set down the magazine or comic he was reading. He was always so intellectually involved in reading, never missed a book in his classes. Well, the ones I was there for. He wasn’t a huge part of my life after and before Bella’s death, and I resented that.
I sat down next to him.
“How’ve you been?” I asked.
“Good,” he said, “Yourself? You look awful, Dad.” I shook my head, scoffing lightly and fixating my hair.
“I do? Couldn’t tell. I was too excited about seeing you.”
“Same.” He nodded lightly and looked at me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t want to lose you again, AJ,” I said, “Can’t stand it, being apart. Did that with Bella, your mother, never saw myself again.”
I paused, enjoying a break of silence.
“Losing Bella and raising her daughter was the biggest wake up call. I had ignored you. I never want to do that again. There are times I wish I could do some things different. Care more, love more. But right now, I can’t worry about that, because it’s too late. I saw your sister become just like your mother, and I couldn’t bear it until after she was grown up. I never felt that with you, that loss when looking into your eyes. The pain is not bearable of losing something unique. There are times I wish I didn’t feel anything. All the time, I never want to feel anything. But not feeling anything, locking myself out, crushes my soul,” I explained.
“I get it,” he said.
“I’m sure someday you will.”
“Guess I should live with you again? Promise me we’ll live happy?” he asked me, holding out his hand. I looked at it, back up at him, then back down. I took his hand.
“I promise, AJ.”