to my old family home, but we haven’t lived there for decades. The current residents forwarded them to the restaurant.” He pressed the rest of the stack against his chest. “You loved me. You wanted to be with me as much as I did.”
“But I never sent them. I tucked them away in a box in the attic and forgot about them.”
The envelope in her hand looked familiar: the handwriting, the address, the paper. I had found them in the mailbox when I arrived, and had mailed them. At the time, I assumed someone must be waiting for them, and someone was—Girard.
“Lost things find their way to where they need to be, Evelyn. I know the whispers of your heart echo mine.” He walked over to her, dropping the letters onto the floor, where the thick fog covered them.
Girard took her trembling hands in his, steadying them with a firm squeeze before he reached up to cup her cheek. His hand hovered an inch away, as if to ask for her permission. She reached up and pressed his hand against her skin, tilting her head to lean into the caress.
The intimate gesture made me blush, and a quick glance toward Ines suggested she felt the same.
“I love you, Evelyn. I never stopped. You have always had every piece of me.” He kissed her fingertips. “I don’t know if you still feel the same way. After what I’ve done, I can’t expect you to.”
She touched his lips. “Are you asking if I still love you?”
“Yes. Do you still love me?”
Forty-Eight
Ines and I leaned forward behind the counter. My aunt’s happiness hinged on her answer. She wanted Girard to come to her, and now he had. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a red thread: love in its simplest form was standing before her.
I didn’t dare glance at Ines. She probably had her heart hovering in her throat like I did.
Aunt Evelyn fought for family, for her business, and for me, but when it came to love, she hadn’t.
I had no right to interfere with my aunt’s decision-making process; however, the temptation to bring them both together like the dolls I pretended to marry as a child was great. The aunties back home would never have had the discretion, self-control, or patience to stand by the sidelines.
With every passing heartbeat, my doubts grew.
In times like these, the right choice was clear to everyone but the person burdened with it.
The earthbound clouds shifted in color. Shades of pink from the softest blush to sparkling coral to the deepest fuchsia. The intensity of the hue changed with every microsecond.
Please, Aunt Evelyn.
Make the right choice.
This is your chance to be happy—to be loved.
It’s your time.
“Yes.”
Ines and I exhaled as Girard cupped my aunt’s face in his hands and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her fingers in his hair as he drew her closer against him. A red thread, sparkling and new, wound its way around the couple. The magnificent sparks flew from the string, strengthening, transforming into a braid.
The kiss between them rivaled Klimt’s painting. Decades of longing matched the intensity and duration. After a while, I turned away; Ines continued to watch.
She purred. “Those two have endurance for their age.”
I choked from swallowing my laughter.
“I mean, I’d want that for me and Luc, as I’m sure you’d want the same for you and Marc.” Ines scrunched her nose and grinned. “I hope Marc will follow you back to America after he finishes his stint at the restaurant.”
I did my best to hide my sadness.
The warmth near my feet vanished, and the floor returned to normal. Aunt Evelyn and Girard stood side by side, skin touching, holding hands as if they couldn’t be physically parted. A soft blush settled on my aunt’s cheeks. The red thread linked their hearts, dangling with the slack of a pocket watch chain.
“As you can see, we’ve settled our differences,” he said.
Aunt Evelyn laughed. “We certainly did.”
“Auntie, you have a red thread,” I declared.
She pressed her hand against her chest. The thread wrapped itself around her fingers. “How?”
“I don’t know, but you didn’t need me to tell you. You feel it, don’t you?”
My aunt nodded.
Ines checked her watch. “I have to get back to the bakery. Don’t worry, I will tell my mother how everything worked out. Maman will relish all the details.” She giggled and made her exit with a bouncy skip to her step.
“I hope she’ll leave out the more intimate specifics,” Aunt