The Fall Of Edith

Chapter 18, present

On the 12th of July, four days after I messaged Mauricio, we meet in a Coffee shop in central London and I get flashbacks to the first time we met, six years ago. I show up five minutes late, dressed in expensive sweat pants, sneakers, crop top and a leather jacket. My hair is falling over my shoulders, one part tied up in a high bun. My make up and nails are flawless. I made sure to erase all traces of misery. Mauricio waits for me inside, he looks careless and indifferent as always, I might as well be a street vendor approaching with red roses. Same hairstyle, same outfit as six years ago.  As he walks towards me to hug me, I notice dark rings under his eyes and his hair looks a little greasy. He seems tired. We order two drinks to take away and I pay for both of them, swatting away his hand. 

We walk through the main streets of London, "So how's your life?" He asks me. 

"I'm going to get a divorce" I stare at the buildings lined up neatly next to each other. There's a small Chinese restaurant with people crowded inside. 

"I would've given you the 100 dollars as a Christmas gift by the way" I mention. 

He replies: "Yea, I know, you love me" but I just laugh and don't say anything.  It's a warm day and the streets are bustling with people carrying their groceries, children and purchases. Two young girls are passing us in floating polka dotted summer dresses and I smile. 

He looks me up an down from the side, eventually saying "By the way, your tits still look pretty big to me" I roll my eyes, but I'm facing the window of a book shop, so he doesn't see.  The window of the shop is plastered with posters in all colours. There's one that stick out to me, it's a picture of a beach, turquoise waves softly hitting the sand. It says "Take part in our summer lottery to win a two-week-holiday in Greece" 

"I'll have to go home, have some things to do" In a way I'm glad he didn't change, it would have been unbearable if he wasn't such an idiot.

"But you can come to my place tomorrow, maybe" It's not a question, he says it like he knows I won't say no. 

I throw away the soggy paper cup of my drink and keep the napkin. I take out a pencil to scribble on it. 

I write one sentence "You're an asshole", roll it up and put it inside the right pocket of Mauricio's windbreaker when he doesn't look. 

I don't go home, but instead cross the Thames on to the other side of the city, towards a vast and quiet park. Sun rays are reflecting on the surface, making the water glitter like jewellery.  

And for once, I feel like I might survive without his reply. 

We can't know what happens to our Edith after this scene. She might go down the sorrowful path to Mauricio's place, or she might board a plane and fly to Greece, seeing just how turquoise the water is with her own eyes, but this moment is as good as any to end our story.