“Îmi pare rău, Anton. La revedere.”
“Good-bye, Adela.”
Then she was gone.
I settled heavily in the chair after she left, remembering how I had stared at it as a boy, imagined what it would be like to sit in it, knowing, even from my earliest youth, that that was never to be. Yet here I was. Charged with leadership.
And utterly alone.
Lily
I was a foolish woman. I’d done countless things, large and small, that had proven it over the years, but this one had to be one of the most foolish.
The paper in my hand, thick, heavy stock, seemed to weigh a ton but alternately had my heart light. He hadn’t contacted me in the weeks since that terrible night when we’d seen each other last, and I had done the same. I wanted him, craved him, but I’d respected his wishes.
But I needed to do this, had to if I wanted any chance of moving on, of trying to finally begin to live.
I signed the paper, sealed the envelope, and shoved it into the mailbox before I could change my mind.
Anton
“This came for you,” Sandu said as he entered the office and dropped an envelope on top of the desk.
“It came here? To the house?” I said.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Strange,” I said as I looked at the envelope, then the sprawling, feminine script that covered it.
I’d only ever seen her handwriting on Christoph Senior’s chart, where she’d meticulously recorded his medications. Still, I recognized it immediately.
I dropped the card and then quickly picked it up again, my fingers tight, too tight, around the edges. I should burn it, should leave that door closed forever, continue on as I had been for these weeks. So what if every time I closed my eyes, she was all I saw? It would pass. I would forget her.
An outrageous lie, one I couldn’t even pretend to believe, even if doing so might give me some comfort, some respite from the agonizing emptiness that her absence from my life caused.
I tore open the envelope.
Anton
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
She sat on a bench, her hair down around her shoulders. She looked beautiful. And heartbroken.
“I was curious,” I said, though that wasn’t the half of it. After I’d opened and read the condolences card, I had been curious. And angry. And happy. And so desperate to see her that I had barely been able to contain myself. I’d distracted myself as best I could, trying to provide stable leadership, ensuring that Clan Constantin was in the best possible position.
But she’d always been there, made more real by her absence, and in those few quiet moments, I’d been driven to the brink with missing her, had more than once had to stop myself from going to find her. It had been hard, near impossible, and seeing her now, hands gripped tight behind my back to keep from touching her, only proved how much.
She lifted her lips into a grim smile. “That’s all? You were just curious?”
“Yes. I hadn’t expected to see you again,” I said.
“Did you want to?”
More than I could ever say.
“What do you want, Lily?” I said instead.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She sighed quickly, looked up at me. “That’s a lie.”
“You have a habit of that,” I said, hating the bitterness in my voice.
“I didn’t use to, and I’m trying to correct that tendency. So I’ll start with telling you why I asked you here. Would you like to sit?”
I should have said no, but the opportunity to be close to her again was one I couldn’t pass up, even though I knew what she’d done, what she’d planned. So I gave in, sat next to her, leg brushing hers, the sense of rightness that came over me almost making me dizzy with relief. I had missed her even more than I’d realized, and being this close to her was only a reminder.
“Why did you send that card, Lily? Why did you ask me here?”
“After Christoph Senior, I never had a chance to say I was sorry for your loss,” she said.
“And were you? Sorry?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Yes. I was.”
I believed her. A stupid thing to think, hope, that I could ever believe anything she said, stupid to want her, stupider to trust her, but I did nonetheless.
“Braden died,” she said a moment later.
I looked over at her, saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Stroke,” she said, her voice thickening with tears. “That’s why I asked you to come here. He loved this park, so I was going to scatter his ashes here.”
It was only then I noticed the small box that sat next to her, her hand atop it.