Page 282 of The Lies We Play

“I mean it.” His voice is quieter now. “I hope you find whatever you are walking toward. I hope you are happy with him.”

Him.

He doesn't know there are two.

Or maybe he does. Not the facts, but the shape of the absence. Moises has always been better at reading what people remove from a sentence than what they leave in it.

“I hope you are happy in a way I could not have made you happy,” he says. “And I’m telling you that not because I am noble. I’m not that noble. I have simply had three years to think about who you are and what you would need to be happy. For at least the last twelve months, I have known it wasn’t going to be me.”

He stands.

The chair legs scrape softly against the old floor.

“Moises,” I say, because his name is the only thing I have left to give him.

“Livia?”

“Thank you,” I say. The words are too small. Pathetic, really. If words had nutritional value, these would not keep a sparrow alive. “For everything. I hope you find happiness, too.”

I hate myself for how inadequate that sounds.

I wish I had known about his wife. His child. I wish I had noticed his loneliness under all that practiced joy. He has always seemed like a man who could enjoy the flowers, the market, a perfect peach, a stupid joke from Marina. Maybe that was never the case. Maybe that was survival with better manners than mine.

He nods.

He walks to the door.

At the door, he stops.

He doesn't turn around. His hand rests on the frame for one second, then two.

“I hope he treats you like a woman who crossed an ocean to find him,” he says. “If he doesn’t, you call me. I will come from wherever I am.”

My eyes burn.

Not enough to cry.

Enough to hate the body for trying.

He opens the door.

He goes.

The door closes behind him with the soft click of a building that has been here for four hundred years and has watched a great many people leave.

I stand at the kitchen table for a long time after he is gone.

The pastry bag sits unopened on the counter.

Bella is quiet, and I’m not sure how long I’ll stay here.

I try to go through my day and when the sun is setting, my phone rings.

I lift my head.

The screen says Eleonora.

I have not had a call from Eleonora since she introduced herself. Eleonora doesn't call to chat. Eleonora calls to tell you what is about to happen.