Beyond Hope

Chapter 17

"Her breathing seemed to be suspended under the same sort of magic pulsating in his veins."

Flora waved at me and Walter as she left the building at a hurried pace. After three days of relaying at Mark's lifts to get home, she was happy to express what a relief it was to get her car back. She talked so much about it she almost looked like the old Flora I met a few months ago.

I was pretty sure Mark was no longer oblivious to her situation with her husband. I didn't know how much she would tell him, but I was sure she told him something. Not that he commented on anything with me; we barely had the chance to talk about our work in his library for the past three days. The deadline for gaining on us, and we were still nowhere near finding out the perfect story to close the book.

As soon as Flora's heels stopped echoing across the floor, I faced Walter.

"So," I started, hoping to gain his attention. "What do you think?" I tilted my head towards the door, although I was certain Walter knew I was talking about our friend.

As predicted, Walter didn't even blink before answering me. "I think she has to sit down with him, ask all the questions she has to ask, listen to what he has to say, and sleep on it."

I thinned my lips; that seemed simple enough. "Yes, but she doesn't feel ready yet."

"She seems in a better mood, and she can't wait forever. I don't think it will be wealthy for her to avoid this any longer." Walter shrugged, before leaning forward against his desk. "What is there to wait for?"

"I think she's just making sure she can face Ryan without losing it. I mean, I know if I were in her shoes I wouldn't want to be a crying mess having a conversation like that."

Walter nodded slowly. "I can understand that, but I'm not sure waiting longer will do much of a difference. Flora is hurting and they will touch those wounds when she talks to her husband."

My head shifted to the entrance. A young man dressed in an orange t-shirt walked in carrying a couple of cardboard boxes, precariously perched on top of each other. He smiled at me before greeting Walter. I took the chance to grab my phone and check the time. Mark was leaving the office late again. We agreed to work in his library today after work, take our minds out of the deadline chasing us, but seemed like he was still obsessed with finding the perfect ending story. I couldn't blame him. It was his first big project, and he wanted to be perfect.

"Have a good day, ma'am," the delivery guy addressed me with another smile, touching his finger to the matching orange cap on his head, before leaving.

I tilted my head to acknowledge him, quickly returning my attention to Walter. He was bent over the boxes, muttering about delivery companies and delays, finally picking them in his arms to store them away.

"If you were in Flora's position, would you forgive Ryan?"

Walter froze for a second, almost dropping one of the boxes. I watched as he carefully put them behind his desk before letting his impressive tall figure drop like dead weight on the chair; the wheels pulling him further away from me.

His eyes dropped to his lap, where he took a moment to examine his hands. "I should probably be the last person to answer something like that."

"Why?"

Walter didn't answer, but the way he glanced at me while running his fingers through the salt and pepper sides of his hair spoke volumes; his expression was one of guilt.