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Wednesday sat among the guests, contemplating why she had accepted the invitation and how Yoko had even discovered her address. Yet, there she was, attending Yoko and Divina's wedding. From her seat, she observed the happy couple and a few familiar faces from her Nevermore days.
A voice suddenly broke through her thoughts, "Is this seat taken?" The words carried a sense of familiarity, instantly transporting Wednesday back seven years to the last time she had heard that voice.
She didn't need to turn around to confirm whose voice it belonged to. With a calm demeanor, Wednesday replied, "No, but you may sit," her words directed at the person behind her, holding a myriad of emotions she chose not to reveal.
The woman gracefully took the seat beside Wednesday, their proximity eliciting a strong urge to turn her head and finally face her. Curiosity gnawed at her, wondering how the passing years had treated the woman who still held such a significant place in her heart. However, Wednesday resisted the temptation, acutely aware that even the mere presence of this woman stirred up emotions she had guarded fiercely for seven long years. If she were to turn around, she feared that a floodgate of raw sentiments would be unleashed, overwhelming her in ways she may not be ready to confront just yet. And so, for now, Wednesday restrained herself, keeping her gaze forward, careful not to give away the storm of emotions swirling beneath her composed exterior.
"Enid," Wednesday managed to greet, her voice carrying nostalgia just from calling her name once again.
"Wednesday," Enid replied, her eyes fixed on their best friend gracefully twirling on the dance floor.
"Did you know... I expected you to be one of Tanaka's bridesmaids," Wednesday confessed softly. Her gaze unconsciously drifted towards Enid's hands, captivated by the smoothness of her skin and the distinctive array of colors adorning her neatly painted fingernails, a signature style that Wednesday had always admired.
Enid's eyes flickered with a trace of nostalgia, her gaze reflecting a hint of sorrow. "She did ask me, but I refused," she confessed, her voice barely audible, carrying a tinge of regret. "I had other responsibilities to attend to." She paused momentarily, searching for the right words before continuing, "How have you been?"
Wednesday's expression softened, "Surprisingly, I've found a sense of calm. Living in solitude has provided ample time for introspection," she replied, her voice steady and composed. The years spent in seclusion had allowed her to delve deep within herself, unraveling the layers of her own complexities and embracing the solitude that had once frightened her.
Yet, amidst the newfound tranquility, Wednesday couldn't escape the reminders of her past, the echoes of those she had left behind. The concept of death, once a fascination and a source of comfort in her youth, had taken on a different meaning. It served as a poignant reminder of the people she had departed from, the lives she had willingly severed ties with in fear of how her health will impact them.
Her mind was consumed by her fears and contemplations. Wednesday was abruptly brought back to the present when Enid reached out and gently held her hand. Startled, she turned her gaze towards Enid, their eyes locking in an intimate moment of connection. The touch, so familiar yet so longed for, stirred a rush of emotions within Wednesday's heart.
Enid's voice reached her ears, breaking through the silence. "Do you want to continue our conversation over drinks? Yoko mentioned it's an open bar." The invitation hung in the air,
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Wednesday honestly looked at Enid. The years had etched their marks upon her face, adding a touch of maturity and warmth to her features. Yet, there was a timeless quality about her, a familiarity that struck deep within Wednesday's soul. At that moment, she saw the person she had missed, the person whose absence had left an indelible void within her.
Wednesday could only nod, her voice momentarily lost in the swell of emotions that enveloped her. Enid's touch on her hand was a lifeline, grounding her amidst the tumult of emotions that consumed her. In silent understanding, Enid guided Wednesday outside, away from the bustling wedding party, towards a secluded table overlooking a serene garden.
Enid pulled out a chair for Wednesday, inviting her to sit, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Still a Vodka Martini?" she asked, her voice carrying familiarity.
Wednesday nodded, her eyes fixed on Enid as she walked back toward the entrance to place their order. The quiet surroundings and the tranquil beauty of the garden provided a soothing backdrop to their reunion, allowing Wednesday to gather her thoughts and brace herself for the conversations ahead.
As Enid returned with their drinks, she settled into the chair opposite Wednesday, their gazes locking in a momentary connection.
After siping her drink, Wednesday mustered the courage to ask the question lingering in her mind. "I never asked earlier, but how have you been?"
Enid shrugged, her gaze momentarily drifting away. "I went back to college and pursued my Masters," she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "Now I'm a designer for a clothing brand in San Francisco," She paused, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. "I won't deny that it was difficult, especially in the aftermath of you leaving. But I kept going."
Wednesday's heart ached at Enid's admission. The weight of her absence, the void she had left behind, had taken its toll on the person she had once held so close to her heart. A wave of remorse washed over her, her words barely audible as she responded, "I... I'm sorry."
"I'm not expecting an apology from you, Wednesday," Enid spoke softly, her eyes searching for understanding. "I know it was a difficult time for both of us, especially after you shut everyone off. But I do believe that I deserve an explanation, at least."
Wednesday's voice trembled as she revealed the truth that had haunted her for years. "I was sick, Enid," she confessed, "During that time, when you were in the most crucial part of your life, so close to graduating, I was battling my own demons. I didn't want to burden you, so I made the painful decision to leave."
"I... I left and went back to New Jersey. But even there, it didn't provide the solace I had hoped for," Wednesday confessed, her voice laced with vulnerability and regret. "Eventually, I realized I needed professional help to confront the demons that plagued me. I didn't want you to know because you deserved to be recognized for your talent, not as someone associated with a partner confined to a mental health facility."
"I chose to leave because I believed you deserved a chance at a normal life," Wednesday reasoned, her voice filled with sadness.
Enid's face contorted with pain, tears streaming down her cheeks as she vehemently countered, "You were my entire life! You didn't realize it, but you took my very existence with you the night you left! I was left with nothing because you were everything to me. I contacted your family, hoping for answers, but they refused to tell me anything. I graduated and accomplished my goals, but for what? You weren't there in our home anymore. I was left alone."
"I never meant to hurt you like that, Enid," Wednesday whispered, "I thought by leaving, I was protecting you from the chaos within me. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us."
Enid wiped away her tears, "But you didn't give me a choice, Wednesday. You took away my voice, my ability to be there for you."
Wednesday held Enid's hand tightly, "That time, leaving was the only way I believed I could save you," she whispered, her voice laced with sincerity. "I truly did love you and still do with all my heart. But it felt like a ticking bomb, like an imminent danger lurking within me. It wasn't just about protecting myself; it was also about keeping you safe from me. Please believe I never forget about you."
Enid's voice trembled with a mix of relief and concern. "Did they help you, Wednesday?" she asked, her eyes filled with genuine care.
Wednesday nodded, her gaze softening. "It was difficult at first, but eventually, they did help me," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Therapy played a significant role in my healing process, and I continue to see a therapist to this day. It's an ongoing process, but I've made progress."
Enid let out a sigh of relief, her features relaxing. "Thank god," she whispered, "Wednesday, you never were a burden to me. You deserved love, happiness, and support every step of the way," she said, her words carrying the weight of missed opportunities. "If leaving was what you needed to find healing and solace, I understand. I may not fully comprehend your pain, but I care for you, Wednesday."
"Where are you staying right now?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation. She had already changed out of her high heels into her pink Vans, bringing her height closer to Wednesday's as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the bus stop, waiting for their ride.
Wednesday twirled the ring on her finger, a nervous habit she had acquired over the years. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before answering. "I booked a hotel room a few blocks from here, you? " she replied, her voice soft but steady.
"I'll be staying at Yoko's for the night while they go on their honeymoon," Enid explained, "I have to go back to San Francisco tomorrow."
The bus arrived, its seats vacant and inviting, yet Wednesday and Enid remained rooted to the spot, They exchanged a knowing glance.
"Why didn't we get on?" Enid asked,
Wednesday hesitated, her eyes searching for the right words. "My hotel is just a few blocks from here," she began, "I thought... perhaps we could walk there together. It would give us more time to talk, to catch up."
Enid's eyes sparkled with delight, a radiant smile spreading across her face. "I'd love that," she replied.
Without hesitation, she gently grasped Wednesday's hand, intertwining their fingers. The touch sent a surge of warmth through Wednesday's veins, and for the first time in years, she felt a sense of belonging and possibility.
As Wednesday and Enid reached the door of Wednesday's hotel room, Enid's phone suddenly began to ring, interrupting the tranquility of the moment.
Enid glanced at the caller ID. "You can go in. First, I have to take this call," she said, offering a reassuring smile to Wednesday.
Wednesday nodded understandingly and stepped into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
"Hey Baby, have you eaten yet? I miss you too... " As Enid's phone conversation drifted into the room, Wednesday's heart tightened with a bittersweet ache.
Silently, Wednesday walked deeper into the room, granting Enid the privacy she needed.
As Wednesday stepped into the middle of the room, she heard the soft click of the door locking behind her.
Enid's voice broke the silence, "Sorry about the call," she spoke.
Wednesday turned her attention towards Enid, "Home?" Wednesday softly inquired,
Enid's smile held a tinge of sadness, "Yes,"
Enid closed the remaining gap between them, instinctively drawn to Wednesday's presence. Their foreheads touched an intimate connection that ignited a flood of emotions. Time seemed to stand still in that shared space, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync.
Their mouths hovered close, the warmth of their breath intermingling in the air. It was a delicate dance, a moment suspended in time, as they teetered on the edge of what was and what could be. Their lips brushed against each other, a gentle caress that spoke volumes, whispering of shared history and the unspoken desires that still lingered.
In that fleeting touch, a surge of longing coursed through their veins, igniting a flame that had never truly been extinguished. It was a collision of past and present, a recognition of the love that had continuously resided within their souls.
Enid's hand gently cupped Wednesday's cheek, her touch conveying a depth of emotion that words could not adequately express.
"Seven years," Enid managed to say, her voice filled with longing.
"Seven years," Wednesday replied, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a yearning that had never truly subsided.
Enid closed the remaining gap between them, her lips meeting Wednesday's in a tender, passionate kiss.
As their lips melted together, they lost themselves in the embrace, savoring the taste of familiarity and rediscovery. The years melted away, and they were once again whole in that sacred space. The world around them faded into insignificance as they allowed themselves to be consumed by the flame that had always burned between them.
They pulled away, their foreheads still pressed together, the intensity of their emotions swirling between them. Their breaths mingled, each exhaling a testament to the desire that burned within their souls.
"Take me," Wednesday whispered, In those two simple words, she bared her deepest desires, surrendering herself to the irresistible pull of their connection.
Enid's eyes met Wednesday's, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She could sense the yearning, the unspoken plea that lingered in Wednesday's words. Enid captured Wednesday's lips once more in a fervent kiss.
In that electrifying moment, time seemed to stand still. Their bodies pressed against each other, their lips molding together in a dance of passion and longing. The room was filled with the intensity of their shared desire, an unspoken agreement that they would explore the depths of their connection without hesitation or restraint for the rest of the night.
Wednesday was roused from her slumber by a gentle ray of sunlight streaming through the window. As she stirred, a wave of confusion washed over her. Enid felt like a distant dream, a mirage in her mind.
She turned around, expecting to find Enid lying beside her, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of their passionate night. However, what she discovered was an empty space in the bed, devoid of any trace of Enid's presence.
Her eyes fell upon a small piece of paper resting on the bedside table. With trembling hands, she reached for it and unfolded the note. The words penned on the paper sent a surge of emotions coursing through her veins.
Wednesday,
I want you to be happy, truly happy. I've realized that I may not be the one who can give you the fulfillment you deserve. Life has led us down separate paths, and I can't ignore the feeling that I might not be able to meet all your desires. Please know that I love you deeply. I hope you find the happiness you seek.
With love,
Enid
Tears streamed down Wednesday's face as she read and reread Enid's message, desperately wishing it was all just a cruel dream. The weight of reality settled upon her, and she realized that Enid had become nothing more than a bittersweet memory, a love she couldn't hold onto.