•Word Count: 2,200
••••
Careful! The drama might choke you!
••••
It takes seconds to make a confession, but hours or even days contemplating that confession. It takes seconds to put a call through, a few more seconds to ask how someone's been, and another few seconds to deliver either good or bad news.
Simple matters, unlike their complicated counterparts, take seconds to carry out.
It took Elias 2 seconds to kiss my forehead in farewell back in the hospital when my ear was being tended to, but took me 8 weeks to realize that it was a 'goodbye' kiss and he wasn't planning to come back.
It took the emergency physician 10 minutes to stitch the long gash on Elias' hairline, which he completely ignored until my injury was taken care of; while it took 40 minutes for the tinnitus in my ears to disappear, 10 minutes to examine the injury, which was something called 'Tympanic Membrane perforation', and 10 more minutes to irrigate my ear.
As it seems 'complicated matters' come in different shades.
My hands clench against the windowsill. Apparently, Elias finds so much value in his time that he can't spare a few seconds to put a call through and tell me he's okay, or better yet, ask if I'm okay.
I've been spending more time standing by the window watching the street, waiting for something, for a distinct car to pull by, but I'm turned down every single day.
I hear Clara's voice call from the kitchen, "Have you hung the decorations the way I instructed you?"
She's busy preparing for Élise's first birthday, and I've been busy trying to reach for Elias, through the men surrounding our neighborhood. Each one more tight-lipped than the other, claims that 'Sir Elias has things to take care of'.
Arms still crossed, I continue to watch Elias' men on alleyway, one of which talks through the phone and I curse the distance for my inability to catch a single word he says.
I just need to know what's gotten into him, why he's left suddenly, not even bothering to bring me back home himself, and most importantly, why hasn't he attempted to check on me. After the physicians cleared me to go, Helia came to collect me and take me home; not for a second, have I glimpsed Elias.
"We need everything ready by noon,"
His letters stopped coming in, he's stopped visiting to check on Élise, he's put a massive distance between us, and he's even gone as far as giving me a recovery leave from work. I received the notice from the company just a few days after the blast.
"M, are you even listening?"
Clara's voice pulls me out of my thought chain. When I turn to her, she has both hands on her hips and an apologetic expression on her face. I hate it when she looks at me like that.
Her voice goes softer, "I'm sure he has things-"
"Where did you want the 'Joyeux premiere anniversaire a toi' band to go?" I ask, avoiding her gaze and grabbing the carton material.
When she doesn't respond, I go to hang it myself. When I come back down, I immediately head for the box of decorative materials, but Clara intercepts my path and grabs my wrists firmly, silently demanding I look at her.
"Elias is not abandoning you, if that's what you're worried about," she pauses when she catches me swallowing with difficulty.
"Today is Élise's first birthday and he won't miss that for the world,"
I pull myself away from her and grab the tiny fairies, which are supposed to be hanging from the ceiling, and stand over a chair, "Can you pass me the wire and scissors?"
•••
I release the handle of the curling iron, watching the lock bounce down the side of my face. I've decided to wear my hair in soft curls for tonight, not only because Elias likes it that way, but because it matches my dress. After my roots began to grow in, I went to a hairdresser this time, and she not only dyed my hair a golden blonde, she also added some gorgeous highlights.
I stand up from my vanity chair and step back, to get a full view of myself. Smoothing out the curls slightly, I take a hairpin and pin a small section of my hair to the side.
Elias likes this dress.
But that's not the reason I'm wearing it. As I turn to the side, I admire how it stops just at my ankle, giving my white flat sandals a chance to show off.
I only add a light touch of makeup.
By placing my kohl liner down, I convince myself that the only reason I'm wearing light makeup is because I want it simple, and not because Elias likes light makeup on me. I grit my teeth against the ridiculous thoughts.
The doorbell rings. I close my eyes against my heart's frantic beating.
As I'm exiting my room, I realize it's Bijou and Joe, who're being greeted by Clara and a jubilant Élise.
I'm really happy they're here.
Bijou takes Élise away from Clara as she and Joe both head to the living room; Clara shuts the door behind and spots me standing by the hallway. She gives me a disappointed look and walks straight towards me.
She pushes me by the shoulders back into my room, "We need to talk,"
Upon shutting the door, I immediately take the chance, "Did you get the cookies out of-"
She holds an angry hand up, "Just stop doing that,"
She pokes a finger to my chest, "Stop acting like you care about today,"
That actually raises my hackles up, "I do care about my sister's first Birthday, Clara,"
"No you don't. You actually care more about who is coming to your sister's birthday than what the whole day means to us, to Élise,"
Clara's words slice right through my sensibility and continue to echo in my head. A deep frown has her precisely groomed eyebrows knotting and a disapproving twist of her mouth has me feeling smaller than I am.
Her expression then displays shock and she throws herself at me, gripping my arms reassuringly.
That's when I notice the tear that slides down my cheek, off my chin and onto my bare upper chest. Clara wipes the wet trail from my face, "You've been like this for weeks, and I know telling you to let it go is easier said than done, but Elise needs her big sister today; so, at least let it go for today only,"
Her hand continues to caress my cheek for a few more seconds before dropping to my shoulder, squeezing, and moving down my arm, to my hand, and squeezing slightly, "Come on,"
After the door closes behind her, I wait a few more seconds before joining everyone in the living room. And when Élise greets me with a squeal and outstretched hands, I realize how she senses the change in me, "Missed me, sweetness?"
She responds by placing a sloppy kiss to my cheek.
The doorbell rings again and Juniper, along with the rest of my former colleagues at the café join us and the evening begins. Élise is the center of everyone's attention, grabbing the whole spotlight for herself and she's basking in it. There's a table full of pastries and sweets, surrounding the giant cake in the middle. There's also a table full of gifts and toys.
After Élise blows the candle, and it's time to cut the cake, I hold Élise's hand and start with a tiny slice. I catch Juniper holding her phone up, filming, and a small part of me wonders if she's filming this for the sake of Elias. I straighten my back and brush the thought away, sticking to my promise to myself and to Élise.
With how much joy Élise displays, I realize how unfair with her I was when I prioritized Elias' presence over her happiness.
•••
He won't come.
The realization strikes the same second the clock strikes 00:00, terminating Elise's birthday.
A small part of me thought that Elias would surprise us by making it just before or by midnight, but he doesn't. I actually thought he cared about Élise.
Upon learning that, I grant myself the reprieve I deserve, going to bed immediately and cursing myself for ever thinking so high of Elias and not only expecting him, but also waiting for him.
The next morning, I wake up before Élise, surrounding her with pillows before leaving her side. I smile to myself, recalling how much fun she had last night. But then there's the realization, that Élise was orphaned 3 days after her birth, which rips the smile right off my face. A heavy weight pushes my chest down, instead.
In the bathroom, I hear the doorbell ringing. Thinking no one else is awake, I go to cover myself before I hear the front door opening and some mumbling ensues.
I press my ear against the door, and I freeze when I hear a deep voice. In curiosity, I actually open the door slightly and peer at the hallway. But it's not who I thought.
Once I'm finished, I leave the bathroom with the same heavy heart I entered with. Drying my hair, I stop at the living room, staring through confused eyes at the huge box with gleaming gift-wrapping next to a beige life size teddy bear.
"Helia brought these in," Clara says softly, standing beside me.
I already know that because I saw Helia talking to Clara.
I can feel her eyes on me and when I turn to catch her gaze, she bites her lip. "He said Elias sent these... for Élise,"
At that second I realize a few things;
One Elias is okay; as long as he's able to shop for birthday gifts, he's definitely okay. Two, he didn't even bother delivering them himself, but choose to send them with someone. Three, he doesn't care about my wellbeing.
I hate how, despite this conclusion, my mind continues pushing negating possibilities, all of which victimize Elias.
I surprise myself by tossing the towel on the couch and stomping to the door.
"Where are you going?" Clara calls.
I slam the door behind me and head for the alleyway and stand before the boys, crossing my arms. Helia's eyebrows raise skywards.
"Where is Elias?"
They exchange looks before Helia responds, "He has-"
"-thinks to take care of; I know. But Where is he?"
Helia looks at Jorah and nods. Jorah and the rest of the boys disappear, leaving me and Helia to speak privately.
Privately. That word actually brings so much joy and hope that for a second I feel like embracing Helia in appreciation. But of course I don't.
"What happened back in Paris, should have never happened, it-"
"I understand, but it's not his fault,"
"It's no one's fault, but precautions should be made," he takes a deep breath, "There's a child in the picture, remember?"
I swallow, nodding. "That's right," I gesture to the place around us, "Which is why Elias has gotten every corner of the neighborhood covered,"
The day of the blast, Elias' men swarmed the neighborhood.
Helia shakes his head, looking at me pointedly, "That bomb was planted at the bottom of Elias' car, despite our perpetual shadowing and 24 hour protection; the two of you rode on that car!"
He frowns deeply looking at the ground, "Elias should have never brought you two to this life,"
What is that supposed to mean? He can't be implying what I think he is...
"Listen kid, you're young and you deserve every chance anyone your age gets. You have a world to explore, but this life –our life- is not the place for you,"
My fisted hands weigh on my sides, "But you don't understand!"
No one does. No one understands that this bomb was contrived, that the person who planted this bomb knew that Elias would leave.
"I need to talk to Elias,"
He shakes his head, "You can't. Elias made a mistake and he's fixing it now," he turns to leave, "It'll be easier if you imagine he's gone,"
Tears of frustration stream down my face, and I'm suddenly furious, "You don't understand anything! Elias is making the mistake now! There was..." I catch myself before saying anything.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tilting my head to the sky and taking deep breaths.
"Please let me talk to him," I plead in desperation. He continues to shake his head, his back to me.
An idea pops into my head, "I'll write him a letter then,"
"You can try, but he won't read it. If anything, he'll burn it," he turns back around to face me, "Elias is a noble man, and he'll do whatever it takes to fulfill what he thinks is right,"
My hands begin shaking. The fear of never seeing him again stands at the front and foremost of my thoughts.
Going back to the house, into my room, I rummage through my drawer, fishing out the envelope that came in through the mail the day after the blast.
Shaky hands unwrap the envelope and pull the paper out. My eyes read through the words again, my heart beating just as fast as the first time I saw it.
Now that your guardian angel is gone, I suppose it's time for a reunion. See you soon, dear.
••••
Okay but can you guys please tell me how well/badly I depicted the emotional turmoil here ? I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
Who do you think is the author of that letter ? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear your guesses (=
Oh and don't you guys want to give Elise a birthday gift too? Easy! Just press that star button and let it turn gold ;)
Till next time!
-Asia Claire