CH 22: Saying Goodbye

Esme lets her head rest on the window of the train car as she sees the French Quarter train station become more visible.

What was the point in returning if her heart was to be squeezed painfully in the end? She was returning to a home she would abandon within a couple of hours anyhow.

It's funny how when she first embarked on a journey to the South, she didn't believe it could feel like home. Yet, she wanted to bask in the sunlight along the docks. She wished to take a morning stroll and then sit on the porch of a little house with red shutters, listening to jazz music from the nearby kitchen as her love chopped away.

As they pull in, she spots Alastor waiting on the platform. The chap stands there calmly, glancing over at the tracks to scan the car as it enters the station. Her eyes widen, she grabs her purse, and runs to the exit.

When the train finishes pulling into the station, she runs down the stairs to him, "H - How did you?"

The look in her eyes softened his cold heart the tiniest bit. They reflected absolute bewilderment, shock, and longing. He laughs softly and holds up her hand motioning at the ring, "When I speak, do you listen?" he teases. "I heard and saw everything. I was with you the whole time." Without allowing her to respond, he pulls her to his chest and runs his hands through her hair, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you physically, but I'm here now, mon amor." He raises her chin up to look at him, "I missed you, dearly." Esme's eyes tear up and she wraps her arms around his neck, tucking her face into his neck.

"I missed you too."

"Come, let's go home." Alastor said softly, leading her to the car, As the two make their way to his automobile, the sky begins to open and a dusting a rain begins to fall. He isn't parked very far, but the chivalrous nature of his upbringing gets the better of him, leading him to discard of his jacket and place it carefully over her head to shield her from the drops. The ride back to Alastor's house was silent. There was much to discuss, of course, but words failed the pair. Esme knew that she would have to explain that she was to return to New York, but how could she say that to him? She felt as if her life was just beginning in this city, and now it was going to be stripped away from here before she even got the chance. She was nothing but a child to her family, always tied to them by her parent's apron strings. 

As they're pulling into the driveway, Alastor breaks the silence, "I took the liberty of packing your belongings for you already..." refusing to make eye contact with her, putting the car into park.

"You...what?" Esme looks over at Alastor. It didn't click instantly, but it would make sense that he was already aware of the situation, considering his little gift to her, "right..." She looks at her ring, "I'm sorry, I was waiting for a proper time to tell you. I -"

"Let us just enjoy our final evening together, hmm?" He proposes, gently grabbing her hand and kissing the back of her it. She nods and the two get out of the car, ready to enter his house. Alastor walks up the stairs, but Esme is frozen on the sidewalk. For whatever reason entering this house this afternoon felt like walking into a chapel of rest, filling her chest with dread. It wasn't that long ago that she entered this house for the first time. Back then, excitement and love guided her up the stairs. This time, sorrow led her inside. 

'Such a pretty red on the shutters.' She hears her past self talking in her memory. She sniffs and follows him inside the house. Alastor closes the door, turning to her. It wasn't a pleasant sight to behold. This expression that laid out on her face was very unbecoming of a strong woman such as herself. 

"Now, Cher, please don't stay with that sad face." He walks up to her, "I love your smile, my dear. I hate to see you sad." He wipes a tear.

"I miss her so much." She can barely get the words out before her voice begins to crack once more. Pulling her in to a soothing embrace, Alastor runs his hands up and down her back. He should have been there, he should have been protecting her. Alas, they had both failed in their own ways, "I know." he replies in a comforting tone.

"And now I'm going to lose you, too? I - I'm losing every ounce of control over my life." She pushes past him. It was all too much, it was all too fucking much! Alastor sighs at her dramatics, "You're not losing me. I'll be with you."

"OH TO HELL WITH THE STUPID RING! You know what I mean." She scowled. He clears his throat, standing straight up, walking to her. He takes her hand, "I understand." He says in a soft voice.

She looks up at him, tear welling in her eyes as she spoke, "I don't want to leave..." She whispers, "But if I don't, he'll make sure to come get me. There's nothing I can do." She holds tightly on to his hand, "Just....can you just stay near me tonight. I want to be able to feel you next to me before you're gone." 

And that's exactly what they did. The two of them didn't waste time discussing what was going to come next. They didn't want to race through meaningful hours, minutes, and seconds thinking about what could have been. Instead, they simply enjoyed the other's company. That's how it was in the beginning, and that's how it should end. They burn the rest of the daylight into the night by reading, cooking for the other, listening to music, etc. They didn't bother to engage in intimacy. It would most likely make things worse in the morning anyhow. Instead, when it was time for sleep, they laid next to one another. Although it was scandalous, the two were never one to care for the opinions of others. Even so, what was the point now? If she were to leave town the next morning, at least she spent the last evening here in the arms of her beloved. 

Alastor, however, couldn't sleep that night. He kept on looking over at Esme as she laid next to him, her cheeks stained with tears as she cried herself to sleep. There was nothing that he could do to ease the tension in her heart. The entire situation was still so bizarre to him. Never did he need the joy of another person. Never did his pleasure come from the wellbeing of someone else other than his precious mother. She had wormed her way into his heart and was going to rip it out the moment that train rode off. It was a pain he never thought he could feel. He sighs and rests his head on his pillow, listening to the clock slowly tick on the wall, almost mocking him counting down the minutes until she is gone ... forever.

He slowly sat up, as if not to disturb her, and stood up from the bed. Looking down at her, he gently moves a piece of her hair out of her face. She whined and rolled over, nuzzled into the blanket. He smiles sadly and walks out of the room, going down the stairs of his little home. The little home that would soon feel too big for him, too empty, and too quiet. It didn't make any sense to him. He had been alone most of his life, shut off from the world, and all of a sudden it was like all his desires were manifested in human form lying down in his bed upstairs. He walks slowly around the lower portion of the house, reminiscing on the night she first came over to see it, his thoughts tormenting him.

I was the one who had it all,

I was the master of my fate,

I never needed anybody in my life,

I learned the truth too late

He looks over to the empty chair by the fireplace, remembering how she sat perfectly that night reading his mothers book, making sure to treat it with such care and respect. How did she manage to bewitch him so? It felt as if she just entered his life yesterday completely took hold of his mind with one note from her throat. As much as he would try, deep down he knew he could never free himself from her grasp. 

I'll never shake away the pain,

I close my eyes but she's still there,

I let her steal into my melancholy heart,

It's more than I can bear

He looks back up at the stairs where he once saw her run up and down with such energy, now picturing what she was going to look like tomorrow morning walking out for the last time. Would she cry? Would she be heartbroken or just numb at this point? Above all else, would there be someone waiting for her in Manhattan on that platform? He never wanted the domesticated lifestyle, but he mind still plagued him with the constant what ifs. What if she did become someone's wife one day? A mother, a homemaker for a home he would never come home to. Was it too ridiculous to contemplate the reality of her staying? His eyes darted to her luggage on the floor, the bags he packed for her.

Now I know she'll never leave me,

Even as she runs away,

She will still torment me,

Calm me, hurt me,

Move me, come what may,

Wasting in my lonely tower,

Waiting by an open door,

I'll fool myself she'll walk right in,

And be with me for evermore

His eyes dart to the kitchen where he remembers her pressed up against that countertop, being pinned between the wood and the warmth of his body. How her small frame fit so perfectly into his. The sounds of her small moans and pants, and how he was the one setting those noises free from her. That was certainly a newly awaked portion of himself. There wasn't anyone before her that made him feel so seen, so comfortable to engage in such activities with. There was no one like her. There would never be anyone like her. Why did he need someone like her?! 

I rage against the trials of love,

I curse the fading of the light,

Thought she's already flown so far beyond my reach,

She's never out of sight,

He opens his hand to allow a cloud of green smoke rise into the air, casting a perfect picture of his queen resting peacefully in bed. Her tousled across the mattress, and her eyelashes resting so dainty and elegantly on her skin.

Now I know she'll never leave me,

Even as she fades from view,

She will still inspire me,

Be a part of everything I do,

He looks around his empty halls, picturing the moments they could have shared. Would she have quit her job to tend to the home? Would she eventually have agreed to marry him one day? Could he have given himself to her entirely? These were questions that would never get to be answered.

Wasting in my lonely tower,

Waiting by an open door,

And in his mind, there she is by the door. She's smiling, greeting him in the kitchen, looking so perfectly a part of this house...this home.

I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in

And as the long, long nights begin

He retreated back up the stairs and headed to the bedroom to try and get some sleep before she's gone in the morning.

I'll think of all that might have been,

Waiting here for evermore

🖤Words: 2023🖤

~ Artemis 🦌💗