My place is far from Irin's, only two blocks away, but it's pretty far for me since the property of each block is large enough for a hundred kids to line up, and there is a street between houses. I still—choose to walk there. Late-night walks are my favorite activity in this town; even though Vik ruined them, nature is still great. As they say, don't hate the earth; hate the humans. No one has said that I did, well—it's true.
As I get inside the house, Irin runs to me and holds my hand inside the kitchen. "You're not going to believe it, " she says lightly.
"What?" I whisper; she drags me behind the wall,
"Letizia, darling. You came. I miss you so much." Mrs. Meride, Irin's mother, says and hugs me from behind. "And why are you in the kitchen? Take Zia in the dining room, honey." Mrs. Meride says to Irin, and she goes back to her oven.
I'm about to pick up the plate, "It's okay, darling." Mrs. Meride says with a smile, "You just wait in the dining room, sit beautifully for the dinner, hehe. I made your favorite as well."
"Thank you," I say and turn around to step into the hall.
I see the shadow on the floor inside the dining room. It must be Ivan. Suddenly, he steps backward, and I'm about to wave at him, Ivan's body turns to be someone else. I hold myself and look at the man before me without a blink. The dark hair with silver eyes, the big buff body with his black shirt and dark brown pants. He also looks right at me without a blink, and then Ivan steps in beside the man and turns to me. He immediately runs to me, hugs and carries me up enthusiastically, but my eyes are locked on the man behind.
"You came!!" Ivan says and holds me up like I am a baby. "I thought you'd go to the party," he says.
I don't respond because my brain stops functioning for a moment.
It's him, right?
Zygmunt.
He's back.
I'm about to burst something out of my body, shit, tears, screams—-perhaps all of them. I get chills all over my spine, and my body covers all my pores.
The man I have always been waiting for, finally, he's here in front of my eyes. He has no idea I have been longing for him for the past two years.
"Put her down!" Mrs. Meride scolds him, and Ivan puts me down and pats my head.
Irin holds my hand and leads me to the room. "See? You're not going to believe it, " she says.
She takes me to my usual seat next to her, passing Zygmunt, who is staring at me and saying no words. Irin sits next to me on the right, near her mother, who sits at the head of the table.
And then, Ivan hits Zygmunt on his shoulder. "Stop staring and sit," he says, sitting beside his mother. Zygmunt sits next to him, across from me.
"Dad's still at work?" Irin asks,
"Yes, he will be coming late, but don't worry; I already have his dish in the kitchen," Mrs. Meride says with a smile while she scoops the mashed potatoes onto her plate. She will send the bowl to Irin next.
"So why don't you go celebrate with your boyfriend?" Ivan asks,
"What? You have a boyfriend, darling?" Mrs. Meride looks shocked and gives me a confused sound mixed with joy.
Then, I glare at Ivan and raise my right eyebrow at him, and he chuckles. "Umm—" Then I take the bowl from Irin and scoop out the beautiful, yummy mashed potatoes on my plate, and I look at the man across from me, "It's the topic we are still discussing," I say as I offer him a bowl.
He stares at me and takes the bowl from me.
"Topic to discuss? He won the match!" Irin says,
"What's it about?" Ivan joins,
"If he wins, she will be his girlfriend," Irin explains,
I raise the glass and drink without saying anything,
"Then why are you here, Zia—Don't tell me you deny him again." Ivan says with a smirk, "Or something happened? Something happens, doesn't it?" Ivan yells at Zygmunt, who looks at me, shifts his eyes to his friend, and gives him a bowl, and shuts up.
"So what the hell is going on?" Irin asks as Mrs. Meride waits for me to answer.
"I want to be here, that's it," I reply.
And everybody looks at me with quite a pause, "I'm glad, Zia." Mrs. Meride says with a sweet smile.
I smile at her, put the food in my mouth, and give Ivan a look. He stares at me like he knows something and wants me to spill it out. When no one sees me, I pull the spoon out of my mouth, slowly point at him, and drag the tail of the spoon slowly across my neck.
"Hehee," Ivan chuckles lightly, and I'm about to eat again. I noticed the man in front of me saw me doing that. I quickly hide my eyes and look back at him; he's smirking.
"How about you, Zygmunt—" Mrs. Meride says, making everybody pause and look at him. I try my best not to act so obvious that I am interested in his answer. "You're doing okay? Back in town?" She asks as I raise my hand to take a Hamburg,
Zygmunt uses his fork, takes the thick one, and puts it on my plate for me, "I'm doing okay, Mrs. Meride." He says his fucking most resounding voice I haven't heard for two years. He looks at me and takes back his fork,
I look at him curiously, "Thank you," I say,
People are watching us confusingly.
"The town hasn't changed much." He adds.
Mrs. Meride smiles, "Yes, I agree." She swallows her food, "The services, citizens care, even crimes. The way they run things is just—no upgrades,"
"Also, people here are the same," Zygmunt adds,
"Boring, and nothing interesting at all, to be honest," Ivan says,
"That's why I can't wait to graduate and get out of here," Irin says,
Ivan is 28 now. He could leave the town and have his own career anywhere, but he chose to stay here, helping his father's business and taking over another business in the next town to Apollon.
That means Zygmunt is also 28.
"But—it brings me nostalgia," Zygmunt says. I glance at him, and I see his eyes gazing at me.
They look at each other after his response. "Well, you still can come here, like you always did. We can have dinner and breakfast together like in the old days. Our house always opens for you, Zygmunt." Mrs. Meride says.
"True." Ivan hits Zygmunt in the back.
And Mrs. Meride turns to look at me, "You too, darling—Always." she smiles.
"Thank you, Mrs. Meride." My smile is not that enthusiastic, but I genuinely give it to her. I am very grateful.
Zygmunt and I probably are in the same shoes. His mother was gone; she passed away one year later after he was gone. His father, I didn't know a lot of the details; all I knew was his father was dead in the field, and that was why he had to leave this town and join the military. He has no one to come back home for every evening, no one to see after he wakes up, and no one to say goodnight to before going to bed—just like me.
"I think—there's a bit of change," I say,
"Hmm," Ivan makes a sound.
"People might be the same in this town, but I think they change—" I pause as people look at me, "at least inside them—they might not show to you." I eat all of my mashed potatoes. "It's been two years," I add.
Zygmunt looks at me as I look at him, and I drink the water while everybody is in silence, watching me curiously and with a bit of concern. Zygmunt scoops the mashed potatoes and puts them on my plate for me.
"Then, it's great, " he says and gives the bowl to Ivan; he takes it automatically. Changes help you grow, " he adds with a tiny smile.
His sliver almost blends with his white eyeballs, piercing into mine, but I can see his lining, which is a tiny reflection of silver and a little gray. While I feel the rest of the table also blending out, blurring like only the two of us at the table, I still feel others wondering gazes; they must be curious about how and why he and I act like this and when and how we have an interaction like this, ever.
Then, I eat whatever he has put on my plate. "if it's bad?" I ask,
"Then, you'll learn." He says,
"If it's part of you?" I ask,
"Embrace it, then." He says, pouring the gravy over the beautiful, fine piece of art. "Nothing is pure good and pure bad," he adds, taking his meatballs from his plate and putting them on mine. "It's human."
I look at him, waiting for something, an explanation or comfort.
Then I use a fork, stab it into the meatball, and bite it as I look at him.
Mrs. Meride, Ivan, and Irin must be losing their minds right now, watching us have the first real conversation in front of them. It's not a normal, general daily life conversation, but it's unexpectedly deep, and only he and I can understand.
"So, what's for dessert, mum?" Irin asks her mother, breaking the awkward and intense air.
Zygmunt and I smile together as they try to help us feel at ease during dinner. But it's not awkward and intense for me. I feel a bit of relief seeing him like this. He's also changed, not just his hair, which cuts short and pulls back like an old classy man, but his mouth, too. He's not afraid to speak his mind with me.
"You're going to walk home again, darling?" Mrs. Meride asks,
"I'll walk you," Ivan is about to come to me, and then Zygmunt gets up and walks past him ignorantly.
"I'll do it." He says.
And everybody stops their action and looks at him. Irin drags me to her slowly, "What's wrong with you and him?" she whispers,
"Umm—" Mrs. Meride hesitates to give permission, so she looks at me.
I smile at her, "Then I'll be leaving. Thank you again, Mrs. Meride, for dinner."
"Anytime, darling." She replies,
I wave at Ivan and say goodbye to Irin. "You better tell me after, " she threatens me, making me laugh a little. I glance at Zygmunt, who is grabbed by Ivan and whispering something.
These Meride siblings are very similar to me, brother-like sisters.
Before we step out of the house, "Take her home safe and sound, man—I fucking mean it." Ivan yells.
"That's my job," Zygmunt says lightly. I give him a quick look and leave the house.
We slowly walk to my house. Zygmunt keeps his distance between arm lengths—his arm length, not mine. Our footsteps are loud enough to make me try to step lighter. I don't know what he is trying to do here because of the nice things a man would do, but Ivan could walk me home like usual. Why did he step forward?
He keeps his pace the same as me. I glance at him as he walks on his own with his hands in his pockets. I wonder how these past two years have treated him. I bet it's not better than mine, probably worse; he had been missing in this world, and no one could find his body. I couldn't imagine what he had gone through.
And I also think he couldn't imagine what I had been through.
"So you have a boyfriend?" Zygmunt asks his first question.
"You can say that," I say,
"Why did you not sound promising?" He asks,
"It's—" I say and then tilt my head, "a bit complicated." I turn to look at him again; my eyes are out of control; they are just doing whatever they want on this man, keep locking on to his face and body, the way he walks, the way his line of a smile starts to curl up, his hair that sets up effortlessly. I don't want even to blink as if he would disappear again.
"What?" He asks,
I shake my head, "I'm just thinking—are you real or not?" I say,
His eyes now lock on me, "You think I'm a ghost?" he asks. I smile, "You're scared?" He asks,
I shake my head, "I've seen it—" I say as I look at him and turn my face ahead, "Your ghost."
He pauses his left leg as I walk ahead. I don't look back to see, but I can see him in the corner of my right eye, and he keeps up with me.
His body is no longer at his arm's length, "I'm sorry." He says lightly, but his voice is still deep enough to feel the loud.
"I'm sorry, too," I say,
"What are you sorry for?" He asks,
"I want to know the same thing," I say,
"I left you," He halts, "without any explanation," he says.
"I don't want to say I get it because I wasn't you. I think you had your reason." and I pause my pace. "You didn't leave me, you left the town." I bite my lower lip, "And we weren't—that close, so how could you leave someone that you weren't—"
He walks back to me, "You were—" He says, crossing the blurred line, "and you are—you're the reason I come back."
I look at him, yearning to know if it is real? Then, I walk ahead instead of responding to something I'm unsure.
He follows me and walks in the middle of the road.
"The car will hit you," I say,
"No one drives at this hour, " he says, and it makes me think of someone particularly. Now I wonder where he is. Is he watching me right now? With another man? And is he going to do anything to Zygmunt?
"You'll never know," I say.
The long walk eventually ends when we arrive at my house, on the front porch, in front of the door.
"Thank you," I say as I look at him.
I admit that I have been looking at him nonstop. I got my eyes on him the whole night. He stands not far from me. His height is pretty similar to that of the mysterious man; he is bulky and buff. If two of them have a fight, I can't imagine who will win. Zygmunt would never know how many times he's been in my head.
After all, he was my first love. I couldn't say it was love, but I felt something in my heart that I had never felt with others.
Then, I decide—to hug him before I don't have a chance again.
I wrap my hands around his waist, close my eyes, and put my face into his chest. He stands still like a robot, but I can feel his chest pounding faster, and then he slowly touches my back, and about to hold me, I look up to him.
"I'm glad you're alive," I say. My sight of him blurs, and the water drips down my cheek.
He's a bit stunned. He raises his fingers and is about to wipe my tears. I quickly take back my arms, pull back from him, and press the passcode.
"Break up with him." He says.
What?
Click.
Then the door opens. He steps closer to my back, and his shadow covers all my body and half the door.
"What did you say?" I turn my face and face up.
"Break up with him." He repeats,
I couldn't believe what I heard. "And then, what?" I ask,
"Be with me." He says,
Is he serious? or Is he just playing with me?
"Ah—That's," I stutter,
"I'm serious." He says,
His eyes, his face, and those lips. There's no reason why I have to believe him. "Goodbye, Zygmunt," I say, and about to close the door,
His silver eyes strike inside the gap door. "Lock the door." He says,