He laughs and leans in, “We can ride it again on the way back, how ’bout that?”
“How much does it cost?” I ask, before realizing how stupid the question is.
“Who cares, I’ll buy the whole damn train for you, if you want, Anca. Anything in the world you want, I’ll make sure it’s yours.
And as much as it was said to placate me, I can’t help but smile at the sentiment. I let him help me down off the train, and I’m glad he made me disembark when I see what’s there.
Compared to the epic field of thick green grass that lays out in front of you like a carpet on the other side of the lake, this side is flanked by a gorgeous, romantic garden, filled with different flowers of every colour, of every fragrance.
The garden is covered in new blooms, pops of pink, orange, purple, blue in every bush, every corner.
“I love it.” I sigh, running my fingers through the bushes. “I especially love that there are no dahlias.” I say, not meaning to.
“You don’t like dahlias?” Marius asks.
“No, they remind me…of a different time.” I say and bury my face in a rose hoping to change the subject.
“See that tree over there?” Marius points to a tall birch in the middle of the garden. “Last time we came here a group of kids kept throwing their ball up there and getting it caught. They kept coming over and asking one of us to help them get it down.”
“And did you?’
“Well, not me, I’m not tall enough.”
“So, Jez.”
He laughs, “Yes, Jez would go over and shake the whole tree. The ball would come tumbling down and then 10 minutes later they’d come over and ask him to help again. Finally, he just went over and joined them, playing goalie and catching the ball and stopping it from even flying up there.”
I laugh, easily imagining him doing that. He’s always been good with people, with kids. With me. My face drops a little, at the memory of his face as we drove off before. The last thing I want to do is to make him sad or worry.
“Hey,” Marius nudges me, sensing the sudden change in my demeanour, “let me show you something.”
I follow him, his fingers entangled in mine. We walk across the park and over to a bench in the far back. He leads me around it and then points to the back of it. There are a bunch of carvings, ragged initials dug into the wood with a pen or sharp nail, some circled by a lopsided heart shape. And then I see it, “M ’98” I read. That’s it, no other initials, and definitely no heart outline.
“That’s you.”
“Yeah. I came here for the first time with my parents over twenty years ago.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite city in the world, after London of course. After the first time, seeing how much I loved it, they’d bring me here all the time.”
I nod and run my fingers along the jagged lines of his initials.
“You were lucky.”
He smiles, “I was.”
And suddenly, it hits me. A sadness I haven’t let myself indulge for a long time. I try to swallow the sob, but it just catches in my throat and makes it louder. I turn away from Marius, running towards a dark corner in the garden. It’s not as manicured here, it’s wild and slightly overgrown. It fits my mood.
And I’m crying. Hot, thick, salty tears are streaming down my face and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I cover my face but that just splashes the wetness against my cheeks, so I just let them fall. A river of sadness as the ache burns hot and searing in my chest, like a blazing iron ball, weighing me down. I feel rough grass and pebbles under my knees, I barely realize I’ve sunk to the ground. But I’m not alone. There are arms around me, and hands in my hair and warm breath against my ear, cooing to me, comforting me, letting me know that all I have to worry about is letting it all out, to release the valve on my pain, and lighten the burden.
“I’m here, darling. I’m here. Just let it all out,” he whispers, and there’s a husk in his voice, as if he understands the pain I’m going through. But he doesn’t, he can’t. His parents are still alive.
“Oh god, I miss them so much,” I hear myself sobbing. And I do. God, I miss them so much. I miss them with every breath I take, with every step I take, with every note I play. I miss them so much, I don’t know who I am and where I want to be going.
His arms grip tighter around me, and I feel him move, my face is pressed against his chest and his heartbeat is racing against my ear. A sob chokes in my throat and I feel my body shake to get rid of it.
“Make it go away, Marius… please, just make it all go away.”
I feel myself look up at him, his face is blurry through my tears but it’s him. And the look in his eyes isn’t pity, it’s… it’s something else. Something I’ve never seen before, from anyone. It’s something I want to get lost in.
“Marius, please,” I beg him, knowing only he can ease the sorrow in my heart right now.
“Anca,” he whispers, taking my face in his hands.
And my lips are on his.
Hard and desperate and hungry and urgent and frantic.
And suddenly, it’s not an escape I’m looking for.
It’s a destination.
Him.