Byronic rue

Diandra did not see Greg again after that and she had not expected to. 

And she found herself going back to the old familiar streets. 

How strange are streets, aren’t they? Like mute walls that don’t talk; how many scenes have they seen over how many lives?

She instinctively found the old paths to all the old places she would go ….and remembered her mind. Her mind. To put your foot upon a step you once walked and recall the exact emotion of …. 

she stood stock still. As if something physical had grabbed hold of her throat. It was a physical jarring shock of pain as if started from the solar plexus and —it gave her pause. 

She walked over to a nearby bench and sat to think about the Diandra that she was then. The one just starting out.

And her eyes moved across the landscape. She remembered always looking for ….him ….across the horizon of the landscape. She knew his walk from far away. Knew his silhouette. And yes, always, she could sense when he would come. 

She also knew …. when he put up walls there was no use even trying —but, she’s not a liar; it had to be said because she knew. How could she pretend not to know? But then, that she was even sitting next to him should have said whatever he doubted about her. 

shadows and tree trunks look like people in the dark. it startles 

there is a change I feel in the air outside as I walk the side streets tonight. it feels something like 2008. I couldn’t place this sense until it suddenly came to me; one dares to truly hope at last

we walked together along the shore silently watching the sunset. no words were needed. the air that passed across my skin reminded me of his hands and the way they touched me. that sore and quiet intimacy of lovers and the freedom of my hips and how free my limbs glide, how sweet and satisfied that peace between us, how sated and perfect we walk as one 

who do you want next to you when your world falls apart

where sleeping wolves lie

 

It was later after the shots when Greg brought her back to where she was staying, compliments of the bride and she got out feeling quite tipsy when he drove up to the entrance. She waved as she started to head towards the front doors and started walking. 

But then Diandra heard him turn off the car and open the door to get out, so she stopped near the doors and turned to watch him walk up to her, a sudden wind catching in his hair as he reached her. He stood there looking down into her neat, pert little face with those large eyes that never have changed 

“Did you really think I’d have a wife and a brood?”

It was the strangest look in his eyes. Challenging? Daring? Searching…. for

Diandra only stood there and held her breath. She looked back at Greg,

“well, I heard about the scandal —not from ….” and Diandra implied with her head towards the hotel to imply the bride and at the same time Diandra looked away. She took a small step back and dropped her gaze to the ground where they stood 

“Scandal?” he asked and when she didn’t answer and kept her gaze at the ground he pulled her face up by her chin to look at him as he stared blankly back at her with no expression 

“I….” she dropped her gaze, “Natasha ….your cousin—do you see him?”

“Who?” he asked her coldly and he harshly pulled her chin to make her look at him

“Your son.”

She could have predicted his reaction. She knew before she even said the words what he’d do.

He turned around, went to his car and tore off without a word