Serenity

When did their first encounter occur? That enigmatic presence, steadfast in refusing to grasp anyone’s hand. Altair reminisces about her, envisioning a young girl adorned in a floral dress. Occasionally, his mind conjures illusions, evoking memories of her ethereal essence, as if she were a forsaken fairy trapped in the mundane realm, a stark contrast to her origin.

Seated upon the earth, her countenance remained frozen. Initially, he presumed it to be shock—a disbelief that someone could inflict harm or belittle her. The pedestal upon which she once stood so firmly had crumbled beneath her feet.

And he departed, unaware of her reaction, oblivious to the unfolding of events that would only reveal themselves decades later. Time had transformed her into a grown woman, and within her gaze resided an essence of bitterness and hesitance.

Altair cast his eyes downwards, gazing at his empty hand. He yearned for her to grasp it, to accept his offering. As if managing a faltering company wasn’t challenging enough, he understood the arduous task of disproving others’ doubts. The struggle to demonstrate one’s competence and accomplishments solely through personal merit was a formidable endeavor.

“Amaryllis Fontaine,” he uttered once more, his voice laced with a mix of longing and regret. He closed his hand, gently resting it upon his trembling leg. “You held onto the name. But why not...”

Her gaze locked onto him, a flicker of vulnerability and candor present in her eyes. “I can’t,” she elucidated, her voice carrying a trace of openness. “Not in that way. I refuse to depend on you or anyone else to mend what is irreparably broken.”

“I... You’re alluding to something beyond just the company,” he murmured, his voice laden with understanding.

“The company, the family... They crave a scapegoat, someone to bear the burden of blame. They won’t progress beyond me until they find someone to accuse,” she revealed, bitterness seeping back into her tone.

Why did a tang of aridity bloom in his mouth? Was it a taste of pity trickling through his senses? Or perhaps a nostalgic pang, a reminder of the fairy who had been marred by the actions of others?

“Isn’t that a harsh judgment to impose upon yourself?” he interjected, his voice tinged with a hint of empathy.

“Is it?” she countered, her tone suggesting that she assumed no one would dare challenge her perspective. “Mr. Giroux, I do appreciate your concerns. Sincerely, perhaps this is the path I needed to traverse.”

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that she hadn’t truly heard his words, as if she had been deaf to the voices around her for far too long. “Miss Fontaine, please understand that we are here to support you. None of us anticipated the unexpected turn of events involving your sister...”

A heavy silence enveloped them both. “I didn’t anticipate it either,” she finally broke the stillness with a quietly spoken admission.

Conversation became scarce thereafter. It didn’t take long for her to fabricate an excuse, hastily departing from his office. Through the window, he caught sight of her retreating figure amidst the rainy backdrop, where the biting winds held only a few degrees of warmth above freezing. Altair’s chest tightened with a subtle ache as he watched her pause and gaze skyward. He could almost vividly recall the strained, forced smile that surely graced her lips. The perplexing thoughts racing through his mind unsettled the tranquility he had managed to find within himself.

Amaryllis Fontaine... Altair’s gaze fell upon the calendar, noting the date - December. It dawned on him that she had recently returned to the States, yet she would let her birthday pass by uncelebrated, just as she always had, according to his research. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, he sank down onto the sofa positioned at the rear of his office.

Research had become a mundane task, a necessary routine to verify potential members of the Olympians. Altair hadn’t paid much attention until he stumbled upon an article, more like a vindictive snippet posted on a personal blog. Titled “[How the Mighty Have Fallen!]“, it cruelly reveled in recounting a story that revolved exclusively around her, though a stranger wouldn’t have been able to discern that fact. Reading through it made him feel physically ill, witnessing the sheer malicious delight the writer took in exposing her personal narrative.

Countless blind dates had ended in failure for her, each man driven away for various reasons. Then came the rumors of a heated argument with her maternal grandmother, a tumultuous event that unfolded amidst emotional turmoil. In the midst of it all, she had consumed a little too much alcohol and found herself entangled with a stranger, whose dare prompted the dissemination of compromising photos. Amaryllis Fontaine’s reputation was irreparably tarnished, and it was speculated that she had fled the country in disgrace.

She had no one to rely on, and the weight of her solitude must have been overwhelming. Alone in a foreign land as a child, abandoned in her own homeland as an adult. Pity welled up within Altair once again, a sour sensation lingering in his mouth. It was foolish, but he yearned to hold her hand, to be a reminder that she needn’t face loneliness any longer. This wretched incident could serve as a turning point for healing, rather than a sentence of punishment.

Yet, he lacked the power to assist her, much like his inability to aid his own sister.

---

It didn’t take long for him to spot her once more, this time at a bustling bar. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had indulged in a few drinks. Her face was flushed, and she seemed firmly planted on the countertop, as if unable to tear herself away. Amaryllis alternated between muttering in a mix of Japanese and English, her words slipping through slightly blurred eyes. Altair’s initial purpose there swiftly faded from his mind as he approached her.

She glanced up at him, her gaze carrying a hazy glimmer of intoxication. “Giroux,” she slurred with a dreamy, sing-song tone. “Sshhh...don’t you dare... reveal the secret... I’m here.”

“You’re intoxicated and all by yourself in a bar,” he retorted, wasting no time in assisting her to rise from the chair.

She stumbled and nearly collapsed into his arms. “I’m...hic... not...” she protested, glaring up at him before he adjusted his hold to provide better support. The new position, viewed from the outside, appeared remarkably intimate. After a brief pause, her flushed countenance softened, and she suddenly nuzzled her face into his shirt, uttering more nonsensical words in Japanese.

Altair exhaled deeply, exasperated by her unpredictable behavior. She resembled a temperamental kitten, displaying a surprising lack of self-awareness despite nearing her forties. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he declared, leaving a few bills on the counter to settle the tab.

Hailing a cab, he kept his arms protectively wrapped around her. As they settled into the vehicle, she promptly fell into a deep slumber, leaving him with no choice but to redirect their destination to his own apartment. Not once did he find himself releasing her, overwhelmed by the anxiety of leaving her alone. A fleeting thought crossed Altair’s mind, questioning whether he was attempting to rectify the mistakes he and his entire family had made with his sister.

He chose not to disturb her slumber and gently carried her inside. The doorman cast a curious glance in his direction, a silent question lingering in his eyes, but Altair simply gestured with a nod towards the elevator buttons, indicating the desired floor.

Carefully placing her in a guest room, he ensured her comfort before returning to his own quarters to continue his work.

It took another hour before she stirred awake. Meandering down the hallway, she gently tapped on his door. Altair opened it, a sense of relief washing over him as he observed the return of clarity in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she promptly expressed, a tinge of urgency lacing her words. “I... I’m usually more composed than this,” she pleaded, as if imploring him to believe in her, to not pass judgment upon her.

The familiar sensation of bitterness and ache bloomed within him anew. He couldn’t help but notice how fragile she appeared, how her trembling shoulders betrayed the turmoil of emotions that her mind suppressed. Altair remained silent, yielding to his instinctual urge. He tenderly enveloped her in an embrace, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, offering solace in his touch. “Okay,” he uttered softly, a simple affirmation. There were no promises to magically make the pain vanish, no demands for her to be anything other than herself. Just an acknowledgement of her presence and a willingness to be there.

She grew still in his arms, and the sound of her gradually descending into sobs reached his ears. How long had it been since someone had held her, allowing her to surrender to tears and find solace in vulnerability?

He discovered himself instinctively swaying, as if trying to console a child in distress. How much of the innocence of childhood still resided within her, unable to fully mature? She wept, and he repeated that single word like a soothing mantra. Okay. Okay. Okay.

Unbeknownst to them, they had transitioned to his bed at some point. He sat at the edge while her head rested curled on his lap. Clutching a large pillow against her chest, it became a makeshift comfort object. Altair gently ran his fingers through her hair as she released the flood of emotions, allowing them to drain away. In the expansive room, the only audible sounds were her shaky breaths, occasionally interrupted by his whispered reassurances.

Time seemed to blur as they remained in that tender embrace, their connection extending beyond the bounds of minutes or hours. Altair could only vaguely remember the fatigue settling into his arm, prompting him to recline. Her tears had ceased, and she timidly positioned herself beside him, with a pillow serving as a subtle barrier between them.

She sniffled a few times, the sound resonating noticeably in the absence of her earlier sobs. “Altair...” She began to speak, her voice catching in her throat.

“Let’s just stay here for now,” he responded, his voice carrying a weariness of its own. “I won’t do anything beyond being here.”

Amaryllis moved closer to him, and the tears shimmered once again in her eyes. She shifted, sitting up and peered down at him. He could feel the dampness of her tears landing on his own face. “Why?” she questioned, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and confusion.

“Because... I’ve heard a lot, and you wouldn’t let anyone hold your hand,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a jumble. Why did those tears pain him so deeply? What was this unseen grip tightening around his heart?

Her tears seemed to flow more freely at his admission, and she let go of the pillow. Collapsing onto him, she buried her face in his neck. Once again, he embraced her, his arms bearing her weight, lifting it off his chest. Amaryllis became a mixture of unspoken words and tears, and he simply remained there for her.

Time felt suspended yet fleeting as they both surrendered to slumber. When Altair awakened, he found her nestled in his embrace, remnants of tears staining her cheeks. Her ear was gently pressed against his chest, seeking solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart, reminiscent of a kitten seeking comfort from its mother. Little did he know that this would mark the beginning of numerous nights like this.

On days when life weighed heavily on her, she would inevitably find herself on his doorstep. Words were scarce between them. It seemed as though she sought refuge from loneliness, while he recognized her need for someone to lean on in her solitude.

Slowly, their connection evolved into a friendship. They would share breakfast together, savoring those moments of companionship, before she would discreetly slip away from his presence. At times, he questioned if it had all been a vivid dream, unsure of the details like how she preferred her coffee or the fact that he kept a hidden stash of Greek yogurt reserved solely for her at the back of his refrigerator.

It wasn’t until the anniversary of his sister’s passing approached that he began to grasp the true nature of their relationship. This day always carried a heavy weight for him, but this time it felt even more burdensome, as his parents and his other sister had chosen to stop acknowledging the anniversary, opting instead to celebrate his sister’s birthday and honor the happier aspects of her life. Altair found himself unable to move past the grief and guilt, haunted by the timeline of events leading to her untimely demise, which relentlessly taunted him.

He couldn’t recall precisely when he had reached out to her, but at some instinctual level, he did. Almost immediately, she appeared at his doorstep, effortlessly bypassing all his security measures with her memorized passcodes. Amaryllis entered his darkened room, finding him secluded amidst the gloom, accompanied only by a melancholic home video and a collection of empty bottles. Without uttering a single word, she joined him in bed.

Something within him shattered completely when she enveloped him in her arms. The way she nestled her head under his chin brought forth an overwhelming surge of emotions, and the first wave of tears swept over him. Softly, she began to hum, the melody fragmented and repetitive, yet it soothed the ache in his chest. In that moment, he felt the freedom to weep without the burden of guilt.

Throughout the remaining hours of the night, she remained faithfully by his side, mirroring the countless times he had done the same for her in the preceding months. It often seemed to him that he offered so little in comparison. Doubts occasionally crept into his mind, questioning his motives for allowing this familiar pattern to persist. However, it was when she cast aside her own concerns and reciprocated his support that he began to truly understand the depth of their connection. In his time of need, she showed up without hesitation, offering her presence as solace. Altair acknowledged that their wounds might never fully heal, yet with her in his life, the journey seemed somewhat more bearable. He hoped, with equal fervor, that he had been a source of solace for her as well.

At some indeterminate moment, sleep found them, their shared melody still lingering on Amaryllis’ lips. He gently brushed aside a stray strand of her hair, prompting her to stir from her slumber. As her drowsy gaze met his, she leaned closer and placed a tender kiss at the corners of his eyes. The gesture was delicate, barely discernible, yet it spoke volumes of the unspoken bond they shared.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it? To witness me coming to you, consumed by tears. I didn’t truly comprehend the pain until I saw it reflected in your eyes,” she confessed, her voice heavy with vulnerability. “Yet, in a strange way, I don’t mind this kind of hurt.”

His response eluded him, lost in the depth of his emotions. It was in that moment that the tears began to wane, gradually giving way to heartfelt conversations. They continued to seek solace in one another when the weight of the world became too much to bear. When they simply needed a safe space to release their burdens. And then, on one fateful night, he kissed her, propelled by a surge of emotions that defied words.

She had a particularly trying day, and her tears flowed uncontrollably. It had been a while since he witnessed her vulnerability to such an extent. The familiar ache in his chest intensified, compelling him to hold her, to provide solace. He wanted her to understand that she wasn’t alone, that he was there for her.

As Amaryllis ceased crying, she gazed at him with a sense of awe, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. In a tender moment, she reciprocated his affection with a soft, gentle kiss. Their embrace carried the weight of their mutual support, an unspoken understanding of their shared sorrows. Time seemed to both stretch endlessly and slip away fleetingly in that single moment.

They continued their intimate bond for years, yet neither found the courage to voice what existed between them. He loved her deeply, surpassing any love he had ever experienced. It seemed fitting that he would pass away only a few months after her sudden demise.

“Don’t worry. I’ll join you soon,” he whispered softly.