“You care so much
you feel as though
you will bleed to death with
the pain of it.”
(FLASHBACK)
A couple days after the heartbreaking funeral, she’d knocked on his door. Mind you, Tobias his bedroom door –he’d trusted her with his key for quite some years now. The practical matter of it was that it’d been easier to offer one’s help, to fill the fridge with food, cook or bake together, and bring Laurel to school. . . or pick her up.
Even though a small grumble had given her permission, she rested her forehead against the door before opening it. She had attempted to brace herself for whatever the sight would confront her with, though. . . It still hit her like a truck –never could they spend any more time with Laurel again.
Biting her bottom lip to control her crying – one of them should stay strong –, she observed his sorrowful form, covered in blankets. With a pained stare and a heavy sigh, she wandered into the pitch-dark room, crawled onto the bed, pressed a kiss on his temple and wrapped her arms around him. Pulling him closer, she laid her face on his reliable back, closing her saddened eyes.
Oh, Tobes. . .
It hurt her to see her best friend like this. Someone who’d even give the shirt on his back to a person who would need it. He had given everything, and life had taken his everything. His beacon of light. Unfair was a word that didn’t even fully describe what came with it. Evangelina wondered whether he’d thought the same back when Vincent was struggling. Or her for that matter. As if one’s life was suddenly thrown into a deep abyss, devoid of any light and happiness. She remembered the endless tears, the screaming, and, most of all, the deadness inside – spreading throughout, eating away at every organ, emotion, numbing the pain even. It had taken days, weeks, months, and it still felt like it happened yesterday.
For a little while they didn’t say anything, heard only each other’s breathing, whimpers or silent curses. Until there was a knock on the front door –hard enough for both of them to hear. Though, whereas Tobias made it apparent not to move a single inch, Evangelina stepped towards the sound. Wondering who'd have knocked this late at night, she opened it and almost immediately quirked an eyebrow seeing the one in question. With this, she silently inquired what his intentions were. And Vincent seemed to be quite flabbergasted, as well, not expected to see his wife at this moment. This didn't stop him to ask if he could talk to his brother, however. Didn’t prevent him from exploring if Tobias was okay – and she appreciated him trying to be there for his brother, especially with all the rocky roads they’d had. The way she was raised, she’d seen, felt, and known, you were always supposed to be there for your family. Family was everything, and yet. . . who was she to judge Vincent? She was the one still not mending with her sister, the one who was her friend more than anything.
She sighed, opening the door invitingly. “Wait here, I’ll go ask him.” And she did. Talking to him in a comforting tone, she let him realize the bond with his brother was to be protected. Thus, she had managed to get Tobias out of bed, and truly perceiving the two brothers together – however awkward they may be – she understood that everything, eventually, would work out just fine. With a small smile, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’ll get something to drink."
Cola or coffee Vince said, instead of the whiskey Tobi had suggested, and she nodded. Understanding the reason behind it – Vincent always was the sensible one, it had kept her feet on the ground more than once. Without a word she disappeared into the kitchen, preparing the coffee and preheating the oven before sliding in a tray of chocolate chip cookies. Within 15 minutes she came back with a plate of baked goods, a thermos filled with coffee, and two mugs – placing either respectively in front of them.
“Eat it when it is still warm. I will leave you boys to it – only call me in dire need.” A slight smile played on her lips as she stood straight, hoping the innocent joke was not in ill-taste, before leaving the living room.
Evangelina did not know how much time had passed, but she was able to take a shower in the meantime and clean up some things in Tobias’ bedroom. (Actually opening a window helped most of it.) Now, she really had to go to the toilet – so she made her way downstairs, wishing not to bother them too much with this. However, after she apologized and was about to head upstairs again, she got told to stay.
“I think it’s time for me to go. . .” Vincent announced, whilst Tobias passed her to return to his room, and she looked back at her husband. “Eva, take good care of Tobi? And if you want – can we talk some time? You have my number.” He nodded once, turned around and left.
“Wait”, she called after him, “I’ll walk with you.” Hastily, the woman grabbed the plate of cookies, hurried to place them in a plastic container, and joined him at the front door. Her eyes wandered over his features, noticing how tired he in fact looked, a distant expression in his cobalt pools. “Thank you, Vincent, for coming – and. . . about our fight, you won’t have to worry about anything happening between Tobi and I.”
“I know”, sounded his voice, softer than usual, “and I’m sorry.” Evangelina drifted her gaze away from him, biting her lower lip, playing with the container in her hands. The silence dragged on, not knowing exactly what to say – they both had said everything already, after all.
“I can’t forgive you. . . You truly hurt me by accusing me of that. But, I do appreciate you’re here for your brother.” Mindful of her actions, she gave him the container with cookies. “Let’s talk when the timing is right.”
Staring at the sky behind them, which had turned pitchblack, she grabbed his sleeve when he started to walk away. Standing on her toes, Evangelina had laid her free hand on his neck, carefully pressing a kiss on his cheek. She whispered, “Be safe. It’s dark out.”
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EVENING — FOREST — VINCENT
Zonder dat zij het doorhad, was er iemand haar op de voet gevolgd. Hoewel het niet heel moeilijk was haar te vinden, daar ze een spoor van verdriet en doodsangst achterliet — zich vestigend in het duister tussen de bomen, waar geen straaltje licht doorheen scheen te komen. Zelfs de vogels leken zich hier niet durven te vertonen.
Het gekraak van de takken kondigde zijn aanwezigheid aan, maar Evangelina was te diep verloren in herinneringen en oud zeer om het daadwerkelijk op te merken. Haar ogen rood, haar wangen besmeerd met tranen, en haar knieën zwart van de aarde. Pas toen hij naast haar neer knielde en een hand op haar schouder neerlegde, keek ze op —een glinstering van druppels stopte langzaamaan.
“Vincent?” Haar stem brak lichtelijk toen ze zachtjes probeerde te praten, haar keel genoodzaakt de tonen op een andere wijze te gebruiken dan het hartbrekende gehuil van daarstraks. De achterkant van haar rechterhand gebruikte ze om de overblijfselen op haar gezicht weg te strijken, een veeg van aarde achterlatend. Een wazig figuur werd zichtbaar, eentje in z’n dure pak geknield in het zand naast haar.
“Hé- hé it’s okay- you are going to be okay. I am here for you when you need me.”
“It’s. . .okay?” Een scherpe toon scheen door haar anders warme stem heen. Ze schudde haar hoofd, duidelijk van haar à-propos af, alsof ze de woorden probeerde te ontcijferen. Fronsend dwaalde haar diepbruine poelen over de grond, zoekend naar een antwoord in de chaos van haar gedachten. “¡Ay, Dios mío, Vincent! It’s not okay! Laurel died, our little one died, and it broke Tobias and me. . .” Tanden vonden haar onderlip, beten hierin tot het diep genoeg was dat het rood zag. Niet huilen, niet huilen. . . Ze wilde hem beschuldigen dat het werk ook nu bij hem op de eerste prioriteit zou staan, dat hij zijn gevoelens achter slot en grendel sloot en haar niet vertrouwde, maar. . . ze slikte de woorden in die hen geen van beide gelukkiger zouden maken, en fluisterde in plaats daarvan: “They are never coming back, are they? Are they?” Haar stem brak opnieuw terwijl haar ogen de zijne zochten, hierin drongen en hoopte op één van zijn zorgvuldige leugens. Zoals wanneer hij iets hoorde te regelen en het vergeten was, maar vertelde dat hij er druk mee bezig was geweest. Of wanneer de tranen nog net niet over zijn wangen liepen door haar pittig-gekruide eten en hij alsnog vol wist te houden dat het niet heet was. Of dat zijn vader haar heus wel mocht. Ze had nooit het nut ervan ingezien, en het nooit zeer gewaardeerd, tot nu.
Evangelina gooide haar armen over zijn schouders heen, trok zich naar hem toe en hoopte te verdwijnen in de veiligheid ervan. Toch — toch voelde ze zich eenzamer dan ooit tevoren. “I miss them. It feels as if I’m being pulled under and left to my own demise. Why are the innocent ones taken? They should’ve taken me instead. . .” Vingers klampten zich vast in het nette pak, al snel smeren achterlatende, en ze rook de dure cologne die hij standaard droeg. Vroeger had het haar rust gegeven, spendeerde ze het liefste alle dagen en nachten in zijn armen, wilde ze hem niet meer loslaten eens hij naar zijn werk moest. . . Nu beangstigde haar het doffe gevoel in haar lichaam.
“Your favorite suit. . . it’s dirty”, mompelde ze vlak, alsof haar ziel weg was genomen, eens ze zich uiteindelijk van hem wegtrok. Op automatische piloot zakte ze neer en trachtte het zo goed mogelijk weg te wrijven, om het enkel nog erger te maken. Een vermoeide zucht rolde over haar lippen eens ze weer recht stond, zijn ogen vermijdende, “I'll grab another suit from the closet. I know how you like to look presentable. Just. . . wait at the Bakery, you have the key.” Zonder na te denken, strompelde ze al weg.
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