Thirty seven

'So if I did something wrong, please tell me. I want to understand 'cause I don't want this love ever to end.'

–Blue-

***

"He could die," said Doctor Margaretha, standing next to me, looking at the coffee man who was still faithfully there even though the hot sun was hitting his slightly tan skin. "And..." she turned to see dozens of papers scattered around. "Did he give you the letters?"

I nodded slowly, looking at the man who acted like a demonstrator who was tirelessly holding a piece of paper that said, 'Forgive me for hurting you'. Then I turned to Doctor Margaretha, who was picking up a piece of paper from Andre that Lily and my mother had entrusted. None of the letters attracted attention, and it was sure that they were just statements of apology.

Sorry, I won't change everything he's messed up. Trust. I'm not a woman who quickly builds trust in other people. And Andre tore the foundation down without feeling guilty when it began to form. Now, he stands like a madman begging for forgiveness even though he knows I can never forgive him.

After visiting George's grave, Margaretha's mother and doctor finally knew what had happened to me. They hugged me affectionately and advised me that I could get through this like before. Yes, that's right, I can do it, even though it will take longer to stitch up the emotional wounds that Andre has torn apart.

Apart from that, maybe for some people, making love can create strong emotional bonds. Or maybe there is an opinion that sharing a bed with a vibrant company leader like Alexandre Johnson is a blessing. But none of that meant anything to a girl who had experienced rape like me. A one-night stand is more like a curse, especially since there is no love there but just lust.

"I'm sure he's suffering. I mean... you guys are suffering," said the doctor. Margaretha returned to my side and handed me a piece of paper. "He wrote how much he regrets it, Elizabeth."

"And he showed me what a bastard Billy Jenkins is, Doc." I glared at my doctor without accepting the letter. "Since meeting him, my life has become more complicated."

"But you never refused his presence, right?" he asked.

I smiled a thin smile, then shook my head slowly. "That was before he broke my trust."

"I know you uphold your beliefs, son. But what's wrong with giving him a second chance?"

I turned around and looked displeased at the opinion he expressed. That's the worst opinion, at least for me. In Elizabeth's dictionary of life, there is no such thing as a second chance. God only gives humans one chance to live, so why should I give Andre another chance?

"And let me be hurt a second time? I don't think so," I snapped.

Doctor Margaretha didn't respond until we were lost in our thoughts. My eyes turned to the wisps of white cotton in the sky that were moving slowly towards the south. The sun seemed too eager to shine on the land of America while the wind was blowing quite hard, shaking the leaves under which the man was sheltering.

Taking a deep breath, our eyes met again. Andre's appearance, which is usually neat and perfectionist, now looks more like a homeless person. I don't know if he was... sleeping or at least drinking because the hot weather could make him faint suddenly.

Don't mind him, Lizzie!

Ah, my inner voice protested until it caused a pounding in my chest for the umpteenth time. For some reason, I felt something terrible was going to happen. But what? That misfortune can't happen to me as a victim, right?

"Try talking to him," suggested Doctor Margaretha slowly but with a commanding impression. "I'm sure he has his reasons, Lizzie."

"A reason to drive me crazy?" I still stand by my stance. Go ahead, you guys make fun of me, a mean girl who doesn't know herself, but look back, who made Elizabeth like this? "Even if I die, I will not forgive him."

###

After cleaning myself, I sneaked out of the house for fresh air. Wearing a sleeveless yellow midi dress with ruffle details on the skirt made me feel beautiful. Apart from that, I also need to let my pale skin be exposed to sunlight after almost two weeks of being in the room all the time. Step into the kitchen, directly adjacent to the back terrace and the small garden that Will made when we first moved here.

My mother has always loved gardening, even though sometimes she doesn't use soil as a medium. It was proven that on the back terrace, which is usually used for sitting while looking at the clothes drying, several bottles filled with water and ornamental plants were attached to the wall. Then, from a distance, the figure of a mother wearing a blue apron was watering her favourite plants like bathing her child. She turned her head and waved her right hand with a smile.

I moved closer to my mother and was amazed to find a cherry plant bearing fruit that looked tempting. I recall we didn't have that plant the last time we were here. Ah, it turns out... time went by so fast that I didn't realise Mother had a cherry tree. She tiptoed a little, picked some sweet reddish fruit, and gave it to me.

"I'm glad you're leaving the house, Dear," she said. "How? Is it delicious?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Since when do we have cherry trees?" Taking a bite creates redness that feels sweet on the tongue and instantly soothes the soul.

"In your second year at college. Lily said that she wanted to have this tree so she could always make cherry pie." Mother picked the fruit again and gave it to me. "Do you have any ideas for processing this fruit?"

"Cherry cookies or cherry truffles? Ah, cherry ice cream? It looks like it's suitable to eat in summer like this, Mom," I suggested, observing the outline of her face, which was hit by the sunlight even though she was wearing a floral hat.

Even though her lips were curled into a smile, I could feel the deep sadness implied by her mother from her sad eyes. I hugged her body affectionately and said, "I'm sorry for making you sad."

She kissed my forehead. "No parent wants their child to suffer, Lizzie. Every parent in this world wants their child to be happy."

"Even though my situation is like this?"

My mother nodded. "You're the only memory George has left, especially your eyes, which look like his."

"Even though you married Will?"

"Life must continue even if you fall over and over again, just like me, who is getting married for the third time. Mother hopes that this will be the last time she dies. Will is a good man like George."

Not having time to reply to her words about Will being considered an angel, her eyes were fixed behind me and followed the direction of my mother's sharp gaze. Immediately my body froze to find a tall, shabby figure standing not far from us. A gentle breeze rustled his hair, which extended to the nape of his neck.

From this, it is implied that Andre's expression is filled with guilt. He also looked skinny, like a human who hadn't eaten for days. The light in his eyes was dim, as if he had no purpose in life. Andre still held the paper, making my lips tremble, and my hands clenched into tight fists. I moved back as he started walking towards us.

"Come inside, Mom," I asked, unable to take my eyes off Andre's figure.

"Are you sure? I don't want your panic attacks to return, Lizzie."

I looked at the mother, full of confidence that her child could face the source of the problem that had disrupted all her dreams. "It's time for me to face Andre and leave my life. I can do it."

"Are you sure?"

I shook my head confidently while smiling bitterly. In the end, Mother went to bring back her gardening equipment and briefly passed Andre, who whispered who knows what.

I turned around to find privacy a little away from the house. Luckily, behind this house is a field owned by a city official. In front is a large tree with an artificial swing that children usually use to play in the afternoon.

"Lizzie?" Andre shouted. I stopped moving to hold back the turmoil in my chest so as not to scream in fear. "Punish me anything; just don't avoid me like this."

I squeezed the hem of my shirt while biting my lower lip and tilted my head, observing the rustling of the wind kissing affectionately with the leaves witnessed by the blue sky. Unfortunately, my eyes filled with tears and a pounding in my chest that was suffocating me. Simultaneously, all the things we used to go through together changed to the events of that night.

I'm scared!

"There was no bad intention in me to hurt you like this. I was very sorry when you left New York and left your dream job."

"Then don't you regret it when you raped me like crazy?" I shouted, throwing him a glare.

Why does he say that humans suffer the most in the world and forget about me as the victim? Doesn't he think that that night made the trauma I had worse? Because of that, I always had nightmares and couldn't sleep for days. The image of Andre's face and the glint in his eyes at that time was like a whip that made me feel like a crazy person. So, will saying he's sorry and apologising like this bring everything back? Isn't he crueler?

"I love you, Elizabeth."

Love? He apologised under the pretext of love? Damn it!

I slapped Andre's right cheek with all my strength until the skin of my palm felt hot. "Love? What do you know about love? "Sorry and love can make me suffer again, Mr. Johnson!"

He tried to grab my hand, but I managed to avoid it. He moved forward, and I walked the opposite way.

"Please, come back to me."

"We are nothing!" I shouted.

"But you are everything to me!" he said he didn't want to lose.

"For you? Not for me, Andre!" I pointed at him. "Meeting you was a disaster! I've told you that many times, right?"

"Meeting you made me stop looking for women, Elizabeth."

"You are lying!"

"No!"

"You're just seducing me."

"This is my only effort to get you to come back."

"I can't."

He knelt, then took his hand and hugged my waist while burying his face in my stomach. I tried to struggle, but his hug only got tighter. Covering our faces with both hands as we shed tears together.

Are we too stupid to interpret feelings? He loved me in a way that made me suffer and forced me to face trauma over and over again. Meanwhile, I interpret that feeling as a belief that must not be destroyed. Because once that feeling is destroyed, restoring it to the way it was before will be difficult.

Letting ourselves drown with regret and anger mixed into one. There was nothing to interrupt and end it apart from the sound of the relatively strong wind shaking the leaves and hair. We just let the tears flow freely until what remains is a feeling of tightness in our chest. I felt Andre kiss my stomach and let go of his hug.

"Look at me, Lizzie," he asked, pulling my hand. "Please!"

I lost; even though his appearance was quite bad, it didn't reduce his strength as a man. He captured how ugly my face looked when I cried like this. Andre cupped my face and kissed my forehead down to my eyes and, finally, my palms. I stopped sobbing when he stroked my hand, which was still wrapped in bandages from the broken window glass a few days ago.

"Why are you hurting yourself?" he asked. "You can hurt me all you want, Lizzie."

"Don't confuse me even more with your attitude," I answered, pulling away. "And don't call Lizzie like we're close."

"I... want to start from the beginning, and I'm sorry if I was provoked by something that night because..." He didn't continue his sentence, which made me raise an eyebrow. Andre chose to clench his jaw while grumbling softly.

"Why?"

He shook his head. "I don't want to cause any more new wounds. Yesterday was enough when I made you leave me."

"But I still can't go with you even though you told me hundreds of words of love."

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but no words came from his thin lips. Unfortunately, the next second, the enormous body collapsed in my arms.

"Andre!"