Mark looked up from his hands. He had been sitting alone in a park bench for nearly an hour when a little voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Senor?"
Curious green eyes peered down at him. A girl, perhaps 8 years old, stood there, clutching a small fuzzy teddy bear to her chest.
She had asked him why he looked so sad.
Mark didn't know what to answer.
Fortunately, he didn't have to.
A woman's voice scolded the girl from a distance. "Isabella, vuelto aqui!"
Perhaps, her mother, Mark thought.
Isabella took another look at him and ran to the direction of the voice, her pigtails flying.
I must've looked really bad... for a child to have noticed me, Mark thought as she left.
But he couldn't help it.
Never in his life had Mark Feehily ever felt so... empty. He had no idea he would experience such a feeling. That such a feeling even existed.
All he knew and all he could remember was what he felt when he had first met her.
Soledad.
He had been taking a stroll on the beautiful streets of Seville, Spain. Westlife had just finished touring half of Europe and Louis, their manager, decided it was time for a short, luxurious break for them. And now here he was, relaxing finally.
He wore dark sunglasses and a baseball cap even when it was late afternoon. So far, nobody had noticed him and he was relieved.
Mark was enjoying the scenery as he crossed the road. He didn't even see her.
Or the car approaching in lightning speed.
There was a blow to his side and the next thing he knew, he was sprawled in the sidewalk, a load on top of him.
The load, he saw when his head cleared, was a woman. She had shiny black hair to her shoulders, bright blue eyes... and a large smudge on her cheek.
And she was talking in a flurry of Spanish. He couldn't understand a word she was saying but she looked angry and he could tell by her voice that she was.
"Usted habria podido corseguir matado por ese coche!"exclaimed the woman as she helped herself up.
Mark just lay there, stunned, realization dawning upon him.
This woman had just saved his life!
He heard a scattered round of applause. The few passersby were congratulating his savior for her bravery and altruism. He watched as the woman bowed humbly and smiled. The onlookers smiled back and moved on.
The Spanish beauty held a hand out to him. He took it and stood up, putting his cap back in his head. Good thing my shades didn't fall off, Mark thought.
She looked at him differently now. With kind eyes.
"Estoy tan apesadumbrado, Senor," she said while helping him dust off his white shirt with her hands. "Estoy apesadumbrado si le empuje tan dificilmente."
Mark was rusty in Spanish but he knew enough to know that she was apologizing. Something about pushing too hard, he thought.
He pushed his shades back self-consciously and held up a hand. The girl's cheeks flushed and she looked at him questioningly.
"Umm... gracias... uhhh," Mark stuttered. Good thing Kian made him speak one complete sentence in Spanish before he left the hotel. He spoke slowly. "Lo entiende un poco, pero no-"
She didn't even let him finish. Her eyes crinkled and she laughed.
A tinkly laugh.
He liked it.
"I'm sorry," she said in fluent English, her accent lost. "I should've shut my mouth and made u speak first instead of babbling like a crazed Spanish woman!"
Mark chuckled. He liked her immediately. She was outspoken and funny...
She touched his hand and smiled, her eyes twinkling.
...And charming.
"Call me Soledad, and you are?"
He gave her a bedimpled smile and invited her out to dinner.
For a span of nearly three weeks, Mark had known everything about her. He had known her hopes, her dreams... and she had learned his. And not just Mark of Westlife, but Mark the man, the boy, the person.
They spent time in quaint little cafes, parks, museums... They laughed and goofed about as she taught him Spanish phrases. There was never a dull moment with her.
The lads had been teasing Mark on leaving him behind in Spain. Nicky had joked that it would be hard without him but they would manage. Since they knew Mark would be happy here. "All for love", Shane had said.
Yes, he did love Soledad.
Mark had just grinned at them. He knew he couldn't do it. He had a contract.
But he knew he could do something.
He would ask her to marry him.
He would have to leave for a while to finish touring, but when he returned, they would get married. Mark smiled at the thought.
Mark saw her in front of the little souvenir shop across the street. He waved to her, the small box which contained the ring in his other hand.
She smiled when she saw him. And started to walk toward him.
And he, to her.
Soledad reached the road first with her quick bouncing steps.
The street was empty of vehicles.
Or at least, they thought so.
Mark didn't even see it coming till it was too late.
And this time, Soledad didn't either.
A blur of red.
He didn't hear it coming.
Till it was too late.
Until he heard his own voice yell her name.
For a split second, he saw the look of terror in her face as she saw the oncoming car.
A sickening crack. The screech of tires.
His own scream.
He couldn't save her. Not like she saved him.
Mark knelt and cradled her in his arms. He didn't know if she was alive. He barely heard the sirens...His heart was pouding so hard.
The voices around him, the medics, didn't make any sense to him.
The hospital lights blinded him.
When they wheeled her in, he was by her side, clutching her hand. Her hand was colder than the metal railing of her bed. He shuddered but still held her hand in a firm grip.
They didn't let him go in with her.
And so he stayed back. And waited.
It felt like eternity.
Finally, the doctor came and spoke to him in English. When he heard the words "I'm sorry" and "too much internal bleeding", he blocked them all out. More rivers ran down his tear-streaked face.
"She's asking for you." The doctor patted his shoulder.
Mark looked at him and ran down the hospital's hallway. She's still alive, she's still alive, he thought over and over.
Soledad looked so fragile in the big bed. The machines hummed their monotonous sounds around her.
She had a big bruise on her forehead and a cut on her right cheek.
But to Mark, she was as beautiful as ever.
He stroked her face and took her hand. "Mi amor", he whispered.
She opened her eyes, fluttering as if it took much effort.
"My love," she whispered, managing a small smile. Yet the smile reached her eyes.
"I'm sorry...", Mark wept. "I couldn't-"
Soledad shushed him. The twinkle in her eyes were still there. She never lost them.
"I love you, Mark."
"I love you more." He kissed her forehead lightly.
"Con todo mi corazon," Soledad answered back.
With all my heart.
She inhaled sharply and a look of pain crossed her features.
"Sing to me," she mumbled. "Our song."
They had translated one of Westlife's songs as a joke, but then they had come to call it "their song".
Mark swallowed hard.
"Digo tan un pequeno rezo, y espere que mis suenos me tomen alli..."
( So I say a little prayer, and hope my dreams will take me there)
He watched Soledad close her eyes, a sweet smile on her face. Her hand loosened from his grip.
Mark's voice broke.
"Donde estan azules los delos, para verle de nuevo, mi amor.."
(Where the skies are blue, to see you once again, my love...)
And now here he was, at a park bench near the hospital.
He held the ring in his right hand, in a strong deathgrip that his knuckles turned white. He released it and the ring fell to the ground, rolling off to the nearby gutter.
He made no move to get it back.
And when he thought he was done crying at the hospital, the tears threatened his eyes again.
A familiar fuzzy teddy bear was pushed to his now-empty hands.
"Aqui."
The little girl was back, and she was smiling down at him.
"Asi que usted no tienen que sen solo." With that, she ran off without a second look or a reply from him. He watched her go, holding her fuzzy bear in his hands.
Mark understood what she said. Soledad had left him with some knowledge.
She had also left him with memories... the meaning of love...
So you don't have to be lonely, the girl had said.
Solo. Soledad.
...and a lifetime of loneliness.
Her name itself had said it.
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