Denial by Jackie Kennedy

him.” Celeste ’s face tightened. “The boy ran toward Felice, ran straight into her arms, screaming for her to help him. It was only when the soldier saw an officer with us that he stopped.” Pain tinged Celeste ’s tone. “But Felice and the boy were hit.”
    Tears stung Amy ’s eyes as images of this unknown woman, horrifically shot down flooded her mind.
    “The helicopter had been shot at earlier, and couldn’t land.” Celeste swallowed. “Felice was in serious condition and we couldn’t treat her at the compound. We needed to get her to the hospital. But the roadblocks the militia had in place were a nightmare to negotiate. An army officer tried to get us through checkpoint after checkpoint. And I couldn’t do anything. I was in the back of the ambulance with Felice and the others.” A look of desolation crossed her face. “I did what I could but we weren’t equipped.” She closed her eyes. “When we eventually got through, it was too late.” Her voice cracked. “We lost her.” Her voice broke. “Amy…she fought so hard.”
    Amy pulled Celeste into her arms and hugged her.
    Celeste held Amy tightly.
    Feeling her pain, Amy shuddered at the horror of such an impossible situation. She understood loss—her father’s death had devastated her—but losing someone like that. She could not comprehend what it must have felt like to watch someone you cared for die before your eyes. Feeling a wealth of compassion for Celeste , Amy cupped her face, and looked at her intently. “You’re safe here,” she whispered. “It’s okay to let go.”
    Leaning her brow against Amy ’s, Celeste caught her breath.
    Aware she was probably one of a few people to see Celeste this vulnerable, Amy watched transfixed as tears slid down Celeste ’s face. Unable to resist, she caught one with her thumb, and rubbed it between her fingers.
    Celeste leaned into Amy and wept . After a few minutes, she opened her eyes.
    Grabbing a nearby rag, Amy gently dabbed Celeste ’s cheeks. She kissed her cheek tenderly. “Release is good.”
    Nodding, Celeste said, “It was…unexpected.”
    Amy whispered, “I know.”
    They looked at each other.
    Celeste cleared her throat. “Thank you.” She looked at the painting, and changed the subject. “You can see my scar.”
    Amy glanced over her shoulder. “Yes.”
    Aware that Celeste was vulnerable, Amy decided not to break contact. Turning in Celeste ’s arms, she added, “Its good…your scar. I like it.”
    Her arms hanging loosely around Amy , Celeste frowned.
    Immediately embarrassed by how stupid the remark sounded, Amy added quickly, “I mean…I really like your scar because,” she tried to justify, “it…it adds depth.”
    It was true, Amy did like Celeste ’s scar. When she had sketched Celeste ’s face, her hazel-green eyes were initially the dominant feature followed by her lips and cheekbones, but the small scar somehow, inadvertently, held center stage. Looking at the painting, Amy contemplated why she liked it. After a moment, she realized it was because it robbed Celeste ’s face of perfection, and somehow that pleased her, as her artistic eye always found imperfection more appealing.
    Arms tightening around Amy , Celeste whispered, “But, still, you’ve made me look so…so…” she seemed to struggle for words as she looked at the painting, “beautiful.”
    Surprised Celeste would think anything less, Amy took a breath. “That’s because you are beautiful.” She turned her head to look at Celeste . “Very beautiful.”
    Their eyes locked.
    Amy thought about how good it felt being in this woman’s arms and blushed.
    “Thank you. It’s a wonderful surprise,” Celeste said then kissed the top of Amy ’s head.
    Amy wanted to let Celeste know that it was good what they had just shared. “I’m glad you trusted me.”
    Celeste nodded slowly.
    Watching Celeste , Amy focused on her generous mouth and full lips, then finally her eyes. Her lips parted