Chapter 3
488words
I thought he would never return.
Yet just as I was preparing to seal myself back into boundless solitude the next day, his familiar figure appeared at the garden gate.
I almost believed it was a mirage.
He didn't enter immediately but stood there with an awkwardness and hesitation I'd never seen before. Yesterday's panic hadn't completely faded, but now there was also a clumsy determination. He approached slowly, each step careful, as if afraid to disturb something fragile.
He brought something with him—a strange object carrying his scent, which he solemnly placed before me. It was a silent, humble request for forgiveness.
Then, solemnly, he proposed to me.
Though his gesture was somewhat awkward and endearing...
All my frozen emotions thawed thunderously in that moment, transforming into irrepressible joy. The deeper yesterday's despair had been, the more overwhelming my happiness became now. I couldn't control myself as I ran wildly around him, leaping and spinning, using every possible movement to release this enormous joy threatening to burst me apart. The entire garden—every blade of grass and patch of damp earth—witnessed my impromptu celebration.
Finally, exhausted from running, I lunged toward him, burying myself in his scent and warmth. He caught me steadily, enveloping me with his body—a promise more powerful than any words could express.
My entire world, in that moment, felt complete. I was the happiest creature alive.
We formed what I believed was an eternal bond.
I thought this was the ending—the final resolution to all my loneliness and pain. Those long, monotonous days, those peculiarities no one understood, would all be soothed and forgotten in our constant companionship.
However, that sense of fulfillment that once filled my world began showing tiny cracks.
He was no longer like before—my fixed star, my everything.
Our time together became a ritualized routine. Each day, he would set aside specific hours exclusively for me. We would still wander through gardens and wetlands as before, playing games only we understood. During those hours, his eyes still saw only me, focused and gentle.
But when that time ended, he would withdraw and vanish completely from our world.
At first, these absences were brief, but gradually they grew longer. Sometimes, he wouldn't appear for two consecutive days.
That grand door that once opened for him became the boundary my gaze couldn't cross. I could only remain in this garden where he once brought infinite vitality, feeling his presence gradually fade until the air returned to what I formerly knew—cold and empty.
I couldn't understand. I could only wonder during endless waiting: Had something gone wrong between us? Or were all men like this? After securing the most intimate promises, does passion naturally cool, returning to a more distant, self-centered orbit?
