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He had absolutely no idea what she was thinking, or what she was planning to do.
And that was absolutely terrifying.
From the simpleton he'd previously thought her, she'd turned out to be the most complex creature he'd ever met.
And heneededto figure her out. It was like an imperative taking shape within the core of his being, a frustration bigger than the question of life itself.
He needed to understand her.
Just like she had invaded every crevice of his mind, he needed to do the same—know every little corner; every like and dislike; every dream and hope.
Michele needed to understand what made her tick.
Only then… Only then could he move on.
Deep in his thoughts, he only realized something was wrong when he heard a small, pained sound permeate the air.
His head turned in her direction, and he noted the tears coursing down her cheeks as she brought her knees to her chest. What started as sniffling soon turned into the most heart-wrenching sobbing he'd ever heard.
And that's when he realized why…
The man in the story told the woman he didn't want any children and demanded an abortion—the events eerily familiar. But in a twist of fate the man recognized his mistake and realized he loved the woman after all—both herandher unborn child.
His lips parted in shock as he stared at her, so clearly stricken by the story she seemed inconsolable.
Yet he also saw more similarities in the story in the way his pet had succumbed to apathy after that event, regarding him with such indifference it cut him to the bone.
Why?
Why was she doing this to herself?
Why had she chosen a book that so clearly unsettled her and made her sad?
Instead of seeing himself as the agent that had made her sad, it was easier to blame it all on the damn book.
He couldn't listen for another moment. Not when he knew the end would bring about the much anticipated reconciliation and everything would be forgotten. And that didn't work in real life—not inhislife.
And though he wanted her love again—her smile and her adoration—he didn't want to admit the biggest issue.
It wasn'therwho couldn't forgive and forget.
It was him.
He felt frozen in time and place as the words filtered through his ears, the book slowly coming to an end as he'd thought it would, but not in thewayhe'd anticipated.
Michele wouldneverdemean himself like that for anyone, or anything. He would never beg for anything.
The last time he'd done it—the last time he'd crushed all the shields of his proud soul—had been when his son had been about to step into danger. That moment he'd prayed to all deities he could think of, real or imaginary. He'd begged the fates and he'd begged his own body to move.
But no one had responded.
Only the void.
Only ever the painful void.
As the epilogue finished, his pet was crying harder—was it even possible?
The sound and sight of her tears made Michele uncomfortable in a way he'd not been in the past. Before he could think it through, he was off his bench, his long legs taking him towards her.
