FanStory.com - Unfinished Brushstrokes Finaleby Begin Again

Having been on Trans-Atlantic flights during the war, Eleanor was in pure jubilation when she went from Bayside to London in a matter of minutes. She hadn't known she could travel so fast.

She found herself in awe as she floated through Charles's estate. It was massive and beyond spectacular. Immediately, she understood his love of the solarium and why he was there. Easels holding his many paintings were spread throughout the room. Extra-large bay windows allowed sunlight from every direction to bathe the room. Exotic flowers and plants flourished. The scent of roses and lilacs drifted through the open doors.

Charles lay in a hospital bed, his frail body surrounded by the tools of his lifelong passion — paintbrushes, canvases, and unfinished works. His breathing was shallow, each rise and fall of his chest a reminder of the time slipping away.

Eleanor moved closer, her heart aching at the sight of him. The war had taken so much from both of them, but it had not taken their love. She'd carried the memory of their brief, intense time together, and now, seeing him again, the emotions surged anew. She gathered herself, knowing her presence might be a shock.

"Charles," she whispered, her voice soft and trembling.

His eyes fluttered open, and confusion clouded his gaze for a moment. Then — recognition dawned, and his lips curved into a weak smile. "Eleanor," he breathed. "Have I gone to heaven?"

"Not yet, my darling, but soon." She stepped closer to the bed. "I've missed you, your touch, your laugh, your enthusiasm for life, but I carried our love in my heart."

He raised a trembling hand, and she gently placed hers over his. Though he couldn't feel her touch, the warmth made the connection. "I prayed I would see you again."

"We have little time, and I have something important to tell you."

His eyes searched hers. "Nothing could be more important than you being here with me."

She floated closer, her form shimmering with a gentle glow, and asked, "Do you remember when we met?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Charles's lips. "I remember," he whispered. "Those were some of the happiest moments of my life."

Eleanor's voice grew tender. "We fell in love, Charles."

Charles gazed into Eleanor's eyes. "I am and have always been in love with you."

She returned his loving gaze. "I never stopped loving you, either."

Charles closed his eyes, and Eleanor felt fear rush through her as she thought she'd come too late, but after a few moments, he opened them again.

She took a deep breath, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "I've so much to tell you, Charles. After the war, when you didn't come back, and I couldn't find you, I was devastated. When I returned to the States, I discovered I was carrying a baby — our baby, Charles. Her name is Jenna."

A tear slipped down his cheek. "Jenna," he repeated. "Our daughter."

"She grew up to be a wonderful woman," Eleanor continued, her voice filled with pride. She's kind, talented, and strong. Jenna has your eyes, Charles. She has the same spark of creativity."

He closed his eyes, a peaceful expression settling over his features. "I wish I could have known her," he said, his voice breaking.

"You still can," Eleanor said gently. She's on her way here right now. Jenna's flying from the United States to meet you, and Dylan is bringing her."

Charles opened his eyes again, a new light in them. "Thank you, Eleanor. For everything. For carrying our love all these years."

Eleanor leaned closer, her voice a tender caress. "I never stopped loving you, Charles. And I never will."

As the moments passed, they shared stories of what could have been, dreams they had held onto, and the life their daughter had lived. Time seemed to stand still in the solarium, the past and present merging in the soft glow of the morning sun.

"Hold on, Charles," Eleanor urged softly, sensing his strength waning. "Jenna will be here soon."

Charles nodded weakly, determination flickering in his eyes. "I will," he promised, his voice a mere whisper.

Hours passed, each moment stretching into eternity. Then the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Eleanor's heart leaped with hope as Jenna entered the room, her eyes wide with worry and confusion.

Eleanor gave Charles a gentle smile, her hand brushing his cheek. "I'll be waiting," she said softly, her form fading. "You have much to do."

Charles reached out, his hand trembling as he touched Eleanor's fading figure. "Eleanor—" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Knowing it was their daughter's moment, Eleanor faded from sight but couldn't leave the room.

Dylan rushed to his uncle's bedside, his emotions out of control. "Uncle, it's Dylan. I've brought someone special for you to meet. Her name is Jenna."

Charles whispered, "Jenna — my daughter." His eyes closed, but the smile remained.

Jenna's gaze shifted to the frail man in the bed. Tears filled her eyes as she approached. "Dad?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Charles's eyes fluttered open, and his smile spread across his face. "Jenna," he murmured, reaching out to her. "My beautiful daughter."

Jenna took his hand, her tears falling freely. "I'm here, Dad," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm here."

Dylan stood on the other side of the bed, giving them the time they needed, but knowing Charles knew he was there.

Charles looked at them both, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I needed to see you, to say goodbye."

For the next few hours, they stayed by his side, sharing stories and memories, making up for lost time. Charles floated in and out of consciousness but woke with a smile each time. Eleanor lingered in the background, her heart full of love and gratitude.

Finally, when the time came, Charles was at peace, surrounded by the love of his daughter, his nephew, and the spirit of the woman he had always loved.

As his spirit slipped away, Eleanor knew that their love had transcended time and space, leaving an everlasting legacy in their daughter, Jenna. She felt a sense of peace as she waited to be in his arms once more.

*****

Dylan and Jenna stood side by side, looking at Charles's paintings that adorned the walls. Each canvas depicted moments of love and connection — Charles and Eleanor together in vibrant colors, their faces radiating happiness. The paintings told a story of a love transcending time, capturing their shared life's essence.

Jenna turned to Dylan, her eyes red but filled with a newfound sense of peace. "I'm glad I got to meet him," she said softly. "And I'm grateful for the chance to see these — to understand a part of him that was always missing."

Dylan squeezed her hand, his own emotions raw. "He's finally at peace. And Eleanor, too. They're together now, just as they always should have been."

They felt a profound sense of closure as they stood in the quiet of the gallery, surrounded by the beautiful reminders of a life well-lived and a love eternal. Eleanor and Charles found unity in the afterlife, while Dylan and Jenna stayed behind, their connection deepening due to the revelations and legacy left behind. No longer were the brushstrokes unfinished.