It was a quiet evening. The sky was darker than usual and a soft wind moved through the street, giving the impression that rain would fall soon.The road lay empty except for a girl walking alone...
Celene stared at her shoes as she walked slowly. In her left hand, she held the small container of berries her aunt had asked her to get from the fruit shop a short distance away.
After a short while, she reached the tall fence of the house beside theirs. It wasn't an ordinary house. The fence was very high with iron patterns that looked almost too elegant for something meant to keep people out.
A figure leaned against the fence ahead.
"Lucien," she called, a small smile appearing on her lips as she lifted her hand in a small wave.
He straightened when he saw her and gave a small nod.
She smiled again and continued walking. She had almost reached the gate to her own house when she heard slow footsteps behind her. She turned and saw that it was him.
His feet came to a stop when he noticed that she had turned.
She looked at him, a little puzzled. Then her gaze dropped to the container in her hand before returning to him. "Oh… my aunt sent me to get some berries. I was going to–"
"I've been waiting for you."
He said suddenly, cutting her short smoothly.
Celene's expression went still for some seconds before she gave a small nod.
He looked at her, his face unreadable. Then after a long moment of silence, he spoke.
"Can… I say something?"
She nodded again, a faint confusion settling in her eyes.
He opened his mouth, then he paused and closed it back. It was as if he was trying to find the right place to begin, but none of the words felt right.
"You're not the same…" he said at last in a lowered voice. "…as everyone else. To me."
Celene frowned a bit, her brows drawing together as she looked at him.
"To me," he repeated, lifting his gaze to meet hers.
She held his eyes but said nothing. Her free hand tightened around the edge of her dress, fingers curling into the fabric.
"I don't think this is nothing," he continued. Celene looked away and bit her lips.
"Is it nothing to you?" he paused, his calm gaze never leaving her face. "Or is it just me?"
His words were met with silence.
Then, Celene took a slow breath, pressing her fingers into her palm. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Sorry… for what?" he asked immediately and fell silent again, as if thinking through something he didn't quite understand. "Did I make it difficult for you?"
She turned to the side, her face no longer fully visible to him.
"I can pretend I didn't say it…" he added, more quietly. "If that helps."
Celene couldn't control herself anymore. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, already walking away with hurried steps. She pushed open the gate and stepped inside. The metal creaked loudly as she pulled it shut behind her.
Her steps came to a stop after that. She stood there breathing heavily.
A light drizzle had begun to fall, leaving small wet marks on the ground
She stood there unmoving for a long moment before she slowly turned. Through the small opening in the gate, she could still see his silhouette in the dim light.
Standing there. Not moving.
She watched for only a few seconds before turning away again...
*
*
*
"Lucien Auden is coming home."
Celene kept her smile exactly where it was. The studio lights felt suddenly hotter against her collarbones.
Across from her, Daria leaned forward, her eyes bright with unmasked curiosity. "Seven years abroad," she continued. "The accident. The memory loss. And of course… the marriage arrangement." She gave a small wink. "How are you feeling about all of it?"
The live audience held its breath as Celene pursed her lips in silence. "I think it's a significant moment," she said finally, in a soft voice. "For both families."
Daria pouted her lips, her brows raised teasingly. "Just the families? Hm?"
A small smile appeared on Celene's lips. "And for us. Naturally." she said.
A soft hum went across the audience. They liked her. They always did.
Daria wasn't finished. "What was he like when he was younger? I heard you went to the same highschool... and you were very close. Do you remember anything?"
"He's nice," Celene said simply, her smile still intact. "Really nice, actually. Just didn't talk much. But that was fine..." She pursed her lips, then opened them again. "when he did say something, it always meant something."
Daria lowered her voice into that soft, dangerous tone journalists saved for the kill. "There are reports the accident took pieces of his memory. Does he still remember you?"
The room went still again.
Celene met Daria's gaze without blinking. Inside her chest something tightened uncontrollably, then settled again. "That," she said gently, "is not something I can answer for him... But when the time is right, you'll all know."
The audience sighed, while Daria nodded in defeat. She then moved on to the final question everyone always asked. "Is this real? The marriage. Or is it only paperwork that photographs well?"
Celene was quiet for half a second, then she flashed a bright smile. "Ask me that again in a year." she said, "I think the answer will be more interesting then."
The lights cut and everyone applauded.
Celene's smile shrank into something smaller. She stepped off the set and Maren was already there– jacket open, phone in hand, car waiting. No questions. Maren never asked questions when she could see the answer on Celene's face.
They were halfway to the car when Maren's phone rang. She answered, listened, then held it out without a word.
Celene took it took it from her hand and entered the car.
The car started instantly.
"He had landed," the muffled voice of her uncle's assistant sounded from the phone. "The family thinks it would look right if you met him at the airport. A car is ready, but they'd prefer you use yours."
Celene stared through the tinted window at the city sliding past.
Somewhere out there, Lucien Auden was already on the same ground as her for the first time in seven years.
Something twisted in her chest again. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
"Tell the driver," she said. "to change direction."