NOAH GARDEN
I was sitting in my office when I heard Alessia's voice calling me.
— Honey, are you there?
— I'm in my office — I responded, and a few seconds later I saw her beautiful figure appear in the doorframe. As always, Alessia radiated beauty. I noticed her belly seemed even more rounded that morning.
— Sorry to bother you, darling, but it's your birthday and I have a surprise for you — she said with a mischievous smile.
— A surprise? — I asked intriguingly. Alessia approached and sat on my legs, giving me a kiss on the cheek. A strong citrus aroma tickled my nose.
— You're heavy, you should stop eating so much, honey. You're getting fat! — I joked, and she looked at me with mischief.
— I was thinking this morning, you know? About the baby's name... What do you think of Violet? — she asked while thoughtfully caressing her belly.
— For a boy, it's very ugly — I responded in a mocking tone.
— If it's a girl, my love! — she exclaimed laughing — I know we decided not to know the baby's sex, but that doesn't prevent us from finding a name. It's coming soon, you know? Maximum three weeks.
— Yes, it's nice... Violet, — I admitted — I don't want to ruin the atmosphere, but I would like to finish my chapter. I'll take a maximum of 30 minutes.
— No way! — Alessia protested — You'll have to postpone your work until tomorrow. Besides, the doctor told you to rest your hand.
— Listen, Ale — I tried to explain — I have to deliver this damn novel in just a month and I haven't finished yet. I'll meet you a little later, right now I have to...
— You can do it, honey. You always do it, but not today! Tonight we'll go to dinner! — she declared firmly.
— Sorry, honey, but I don't have much appetite — I weakly protested. Alessia gently placed her mouth on mine, ending the discussion.
— I don't remember asking for your opinion — she said with a smile — Besides, don't they say appetite comes with eating? We're going to dinner for your birthday and you must get ready. I have a reservation at 7 PM and it's almost 5 PM and you're dressed like a lumberjack. We're half an hour away!
Alessia stood up and walked towards the door while I protested: — A... lumberjack? I don't have lumberjack clothes.
She turned and looked at me with a compassionate smile. — It's true! I can't imagine you as such a dirty lumberjack. That's not respectful to forestry work. I'm going to prepare you a bath.
Already in the hallway, she yelled at me: — And shave that beard, it's prickly!
I sighed, resigned. — It seems we'll have to postpone work until tomorrow...
While I immersed myself in the hot bath Alessia had prepared for me, I felt my painful wrist slowly relaxing. I had been sharing my life with Alessia for 4 years, but we've known each other since childhood. I still vividly remembered our first exchange of glances, both sitting on the field grass. Her mischievous smile was forever etched in my memory.
That smile that sparked hope, that smile that always said: — You and I, it's possible —. I remembered our first kiss, her fruity aroma, the first time I admired her naked under the pale and delicate moonlight filtering discreetly through the windows of her room many years later.
I had always lived with an apathetic and boring attitude, in a constant state of depression. I was never a good son, and now that my parents were gone, I felt deeply remorseful.
The damage I had done... the people I had hurt and wounded, could not forgive me. The only thing I could do was give Alessia everything she deserved: a good, attentive, kind, and loving man, despite knowing myself that I was none of those things. It was a constant, almost Herculean effort on my part. Bad habits never completely disappeared, I was always prone to relapses, but I knew I had to do it.
The bad attitude was like ink spilled on an absorbent paper, spreading over my existence like a dark and sticky mask that agglomerated and extended until covering everything. Today I turned 25 and would be a father in a few days. This idea made me smile.
Only now, I had realized that it is, neither more nor less, loneliness that drags us into the mud like a diabolical melody. Loneliness is the edge of the mud where any human being's fall begins... Once in it, the quagmire begins to drag us towards greater depths...
And one must understand it very well: loneliness does not mean being physically alone, it means lack of affection...
One can create, meditate, plan and work while being corporally isolated and feel very happy, if deep inside one knows oneself loved by someone... even if that someone is not present...
On the other hand, another person can find themselves surrounded by many people and feel mortally unhappy knowing themselves ignored. Loneliness leads to alcoholism, drugs, adultery, suicide...
— Hurry up, honey! I don't want to be late! — Alessia's voice resonated from the ground floor, pulling me out of my reverie. I had been soaking in the hot water for a while.
— I'm coming — I responded, getting out of the bath and quickly dressing.
When I went down, I saw Alessia in a sumptuous red dress that perfectly adapted to the curve of her abdomen.
— What do you think? — My mother gave it to me, it was a dress she used when she was pregnant with me.
— You're beautiful — I told her sincerely. From her small stature, Alessia stood on tiptoes and gave me a tender kiss on the cheek.
— I'll drive — she offered — With your tendonitis, it's not prudent for you to do it.
— It's ridiculous, I can drive perfectly — I protested — I've never needed two hands to drive anyway.
— Very well — she yielded — but be careful, my love.
We left the house and got into the car. The winding road snaked between hills, and a dense fog slid over the road and stretched over the mountains. The sun was barely a lazy reddish light on the horizon. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alessia was watching me smiling.
— What makes you smile like that? — I asked, curious.
— You've changed, Noah — she responded — It makes me happy to see you like this. And, besides, we'll soon be three, that makes me happy. — I returned her smile, feeling a pleasant warmth in my chest.
Darkness, first timid and fleeting between the hills, enveloped the road's trees. Now impregnated with the opaque ink of the nascent twilight. Rain was suddenly falling in straight and silvery filaments, roaring over the car, suddenly drowned by the sound of the downpour.
— It's seven, we're going to be late — Alessia commented, looking at her watch.
— It doesn't matter — I reassured her — They're not going to cancel our reservation for just 15 minutes of delay.
When turning a particularly tight curve, I distinguished pale lights approaching at full speed. Lights that seemed to zigzag dangerously. The dense fog was deceptive and the car I thought was at a good distance suddenly jumped from the darkness.
— My God, it's not in its lane — I muttered, feeling fear taking over me.
I turned the steering wheel to the right. The other vehicle's motor roared and coughed, approaching quickly, too quickly. As if time had been encrusted in a thick syrup, I slightly turned my head and saw, as if in slow motion, Alessia's horrified face.
— NO!
— BOOOOOM!!
I had very few memories of the moments following the impact. The horrifying noise of metal breaking, the sound of ambulance sirens, blood on my hands, the bone protruding from the torn flesh of my left leg.
Alessia's body lying on the ground... with blood coming out behind her head and her face, as if staring blankly behind me... Then, the crying and screaming.
Finally, the deep silence... It was that day... On that isolated country road, when Alessia and our unborn child... died. Violet would never be born.
A week later, they discharged me from the general hospital. Concussion, double leg fracture, and multiple injuries. Hospital staff handed me a small plastic bag with Alessia's personal belongings.
Her purse, a pack of mint gum, her car keys... And a small red gift. Inside the package was only a photograph. It was an ultrasound image. The features of a small baby were clearly distinguishable, there was a silver-toned inscription on the photo.
Alessia, apparently, had decided to find out the baby's sex and intended to tell me at the restaurant. Violet... She had my same nose.
A large crowd was gathered in the church, dozens of people hugged me and offered their condolences. Alessia's mother, with tears in her eyes, seemed paralyzed. She was giving me looks mixed with pain and resentment.
I no longer felt anything. I learned that the person responsible for Alessia's death was alive. After having been arrested several times for driving under the influence of alcohol, his driver's license had been revoked. According to local newspapers, the 45-year-old man should spend some years behind bars. Some years in prison for having taken Alessia's and our daughter's lives.
...It was unfair.
The return home after the funeral was atrociously lonely. The oppressive silence of the house was unbearable. I saw Alessia appearing in every corner, as if for a brief moment, for a second perhaps, I would forget that she would not return. She was everywhere, in the reflection of a mirror, in the creaking of the floor, in the moving shadow of a door pushed by the wind.
In her perfume, evanescent but still present on the marital bed, wandering in the air like a final concert. At night, I observed my old revolver in an almost mystical silence. A Colt that had belonged to my grandfather and which he left me as an inheritance.
While contemplating the cold metal gleaming in the dancing lights of the fire crackling in the fireplace, bitterness and sadness gradually transformed into hatred, and hatred into madness. A burning desire for revenge, which burned like embers, devoured my entrails.