Loving Pride

The Grave on The Hill

The more Lydia Thorne thought of the only man she loved, the better she realized that he never loved her.

At first, it had been just a drunk man's promise, and she was the fool to have believed him.

Colonel Marquez Agaria was incapable of loving anyone human, she concluded. He never loved her son, Thomas, or her daughter, Theresa, who was born eight months after the Colonel's death. Even though he had confessed multiple times that Lydia was the woman he loved, Lydia Thorne realized that the war hero was lying to himself.

Colonel Marquez Agaria loved the war more than he loved Lydia, and thus he succumbed to the charm of war that led him to his end.

For the remaining years of her life, Lydia ignited a certain hatred towards the Colonel that left a bitter taste in her mouth whenever she thought of him. Yet she was unable to discard the shaving knife that he had given her.

She was tormented by her memories of him every time she went to bed or woke up in the morning. Lydia remembered how the Colonel smelled like lemons, the way he wore his uniform, how he liked his whisky raw, and how he kissed her neck out of love.

As time went by, she believed the Colonel to be a true fool who was murdered by his own pride and bullshit principles. Lydia wanted him alive so she could spit on his face and shame him, but the bastard had escaped to the afterlife without much of a struggle.

Thomas, who was growing up as a fine young man, adopted his mother's sense to Lydia's relief. It seemed like the tables had turned because he could only remember Colonel Marquez Agaria as a brave man who never surrendered until his last breath, while his mother despised him.

Before every meal and every endeavor in his life, the boy would remember his father as an old man who wore gold rimmed glasses during their study sessions. His graying hair and beard, rough voice... Thomas remembered everything very well.

Especially, he'd find his mind drifting towards the silence in his fathers study and the indecent touches he had shared with Lydia.

But now his mother was growing into a miserable, sickly woman whose eyes refused to twinkle anymore. She used to be a young fairy who was madly in love with his father. And now, venom dripped from her tongue at the very mention of his name.

Theresa, who had only heard tales of the Colonel along with horrid words from her mother, never felt much attachment. She led a normal life even though the blood of a warrior was present in her veins.

"I've become a teaching assistant at Mr.Malcom's school, which is near our house..." Thomas talked with the gravestone, against which there was a picture of his father in the army uniform, looking as valiant as ever.

"And Theresa attends the same school too... Even she has your eyes, sir."

Thomas rubbed the back of his head. He took a deep breath, "Mum didn't want to visit you today either... I don't think she'll ever want to. Sometimes I don't understand her, or any woman for that matter."

"But she holds on to that shaving knife, you see, so you still have a spot in her heart. It would have been nice if you were alive, though; you could have taught me a lot more things..." Thomas sighed.

"I'll come along next month. I hope you look out for us. Goodbye, sir."

The seventeen-year-old saluted his father's grave before rushing down the hill and towards home.

THE  END.