"Yes Cici?"

"Have you seen my husband?"

"Last time i saw Vincent was this morning at the house."

Cecilia and Vincent got married a few months after Thailand. Seemed like a reasonable next step. They held the ceremony at the house in Provence, it was wonderful; surrounded by lavenders in the spring was quite magical. Unfortunately, Vincent's grandfather passed away two months after the wedding. His last words were "I got you some lilies Elise". The next day he was buried next to his Elise, like he stated in his will. The house was not sold, but given to Vincent since he was the eldest grandchild, and as stated in the will, profits from the inn were divided. Vincent wanted to follow Cecilia, so he left his sister, Pauline, in charge.

We bought a house, actually Vincent bought it, near the clinic. Kalon and I were also residents at the house. We payed our thirds (quarters rather thirds since Vincent insisted we shouldn't), and distributed expenses. We took turns every few months who was able to go home, and leave the rest in charge. I never could have imagined I would be here, signing my name on many official documents concerning our clinic.

"I'll try calling him."

And with that she exited and closed the door behind her. They were adorable, like the old couple she described; Vincent's grandparents. They gravitated around each other, and fed from each other's energy. One without the other would seem desperate or lost. I look at them, and can't help but feel envious. I cant help but imagine the life I could've had. I love him I still do. I keep myself busy, and not express my thoughts out loud for it would seem desperate and quite pathetic. I ponder, and sneak a peek at those thoughts, in the privacy and vacancy of my free time.

What has become of the man that wanders in my mind?

Zen's P.O.V:

Spacing out has been constant these days.


"Do you approve the discharge of the patient in room 504?" Asked the nurse on my floor.

"Yes of course." I signed the necessary documents and sent her on her way.

A year. A year has passed.

The looks of disappointment and distain still daggers targeted at me.

A year ago I was supposed to get married, but in the same week, Tiana realized that she and I were not completely over our Ex(s). I tried to deny it, for the sake of keeping face, yet she insisted.

"We don't look at each other 'that' way"

I wondered what she meant and asked her to explain.

"Zen", calm and collected as always, " the way you looked at Jillian that night, at the wedding, never escaped my mind. Don't get me wrong, not out jealousy, but nostalgia. I looked at Michael that way." She said with a faded smile. "I have been seeing him again lately, and want to give it another go. Last go hopefully."
I found no need to pursue the matter further. She wanted her side of the story hidden, since she was afraid of her parents' reaction towards knowing her infidelity. Well it didn't matter did it?

I broke the news to our parents and well wasn't quite well received.
She got married about three months after that, him as a suitor like any other. She's pregnant.

And I am here.

Day in, day out...

Sign this, sign that...

I didn't expect success to be so boring. So dull and tasteless. It's not how they depict it anywhere, where you reach the top of the stairs with a triumphant fist bump in the air, or win a medal after a long run, or even get the girl.

It was...exasperating.

I return to an empty home, eat with a single table setting, sleep in an empty bed, have breakfast alone(that's if I have any). The view from the top is lonely without someone, the climb wouldn't seem worth it if given the choice to climb again.

I always ask Jillian's mother for news, she tells me bits and pieces. I ask her friends they say she has been distant, only coming to Lebanon once a year. I check her social media, no updates. She even deactivated a lot of them.

She has disappeared.

Out of site but certainly not out of my mind.

Is it possible I might be feeling what she felt a year ago? Could my accomplishments have no taste or color?

Could I be depressed, overcome by routine?

Should I demand and seek change?

Is this actually happening?

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