Ruins of Autumn

3• Do You Know The Truth?

    Blerimi waited for Anila to sit on the pale white chair, asked her whether she wanted to sit somewhere else if she didn't feel comfortable there, and after getting her confirmation that she was great, he sat down in front of her.
 
    After they ordered, he looked at Anila with a slight grin.
 
    He knew that in another situation he would have had different feelings for her—not anger and judgement towards a woman who was guilty of the fatal injustice done to him, but the usual respect towards a stranger who had never done anything wrong against him, and she deserved his help if she would ask for it.
 
    He had given her such respect that day when they had met in the bar, but that feeling had been instantly attacked behind its back by hate and defeated by it the second he discovered that she was the person he was looking for. That was the only reason why he felt as if he was suffocating from the lack of oxygen because of her presence, and unless he stayed away from her, he wouldn't be able to breathe freely.
 
    Anila possessed the energy of someone who was approachable in conversation, adventurous, and impervious to the effects of the passing of years on her physical attractive appearance, but the fact that she was acquainted with Amarildo completely faded her beauty in front of his eyes.
 
    "Blerim, I want to make something clear first," she asked, nervous.
 
    "Sure," he said, prepared for any topic that she wanted to talk about.
 
    "If I find out that you're dating someone else while you're going out with me and you're trying to play with both of us, I will immediately tell that woman, and I won't leave it at that."
 
    "I'm not dating anyone else. Take all the time you need to find out if I'm lying or not," he replied, not worried. He had taken measures for everything so that no obstacle would ruin his plans.
 
    "Okay," Anila smiled at him, content that there were no barriers between them.
 
    And if there were, and Blerimi had just lied to her, she didn't mind. Anila would turn his game in her favour, and she would play with him.
 
    They stood in silence while the waiter placed the ordered drinks on their table, and then they looked at each other.
 
    "So what do you do for a living, Avenger?"
 
    She chuckled at that nickname.
 
    "I have just graduated from university and have a Bachelor's degree in English. I'm planning to graduate with a Master's too and then work as a translator. As for now, I work at a cosmetic products company."
 
    "Have the books managed to convince you into believing in the happy ending?" he asked teasingly.
 
    "They have convinced me to believe in the happy moments," specified Anila. "The moments of the present that we have in control, to spend them as we want. If we're careful to experience truly happy moments, we will also get a happy ending. For me, not regretting the life that you have lived means a happy ending."
 
    "It's a good thing you're not afraid," Blerimi remarked mysteriously. "Or you hide your fear very well."
 
    "Afraid of what?"
 
    "That someone may try to completely destroy your present, and as a result, you won't have a future either. Because of the depression, you will experience. If you can overcome it, you can dream of another future, different from the one you were forced to live in."
 
    "Ah," was the only calm reaction she gave, and then she took a look around, an action that greatly alarmed Blerimi.
 
    Had he taken it too far, and Anila was beginning to suspect him, or did she already know everything about Amarildo? She had known who Blerimi was since they met two months ago, and she had immediately made her plan as well?
 
    From thinking that he had prepared an invincible trap, he ended up thinking tensely that he had fallen into the trap himself.
 
    "What do you do for a living?" Anila changed the subject, and Blerimi didn't insist any longer on trying to extinguish his doubts about her. If it were true that she was playing, he would have to change the whole plan before it was too late.
 
    "I work as a manager at a health products company," he said calmly, aware that Anila was growing positive regard for him from the way he spoke clearly, without rushing, with a calm tone of voice and full involvement in the conversation with her.
 
    "How old are you?"
 
    "Twenty-five. You?" He asked to have an excuse if she would want to know how he knew her age without asking her.
 
    "Twenty-two. Three days ago, on July 23rd, was my birthday. I don't know why I first got the impression that you were twenty-six years old."
 
    "On November 3rd, I turn twenty-six." Blerimi shared another piece of information of his to not raise any doubts as to why he was being so secretive. Maybe Anila knew everything about him already and was pretending like she didn't, but leaving anything to fate didn't seem like a smart move to him.
 
    "You live here in Tirana, I guess..." He left the sentence in the middle for her to complete.
 
    "Yes," Anila went on. "I am from Elbasan. I have come here alone to study."
 
    "Your family is still there."
 
    She approved silently. "My parents and my sister. My brother lives in France," she added.
 
    "Are your brother and sister older than you?"
 
    "Only my brother. My sister is younger." Anila clarified. "Where do you live?"
 
    "Here, in the capital city, too. I don't have very close family members like you. It's just me left." He implied that they had passed away and surveyed her face carefully for any specific reaction, guilt for knowing why they had died, or pretence that she hadn't been aware of such information about his life.
 
    "I see," Anila replied with a sad tone of voice, and she lowered her head.
 
    She felt the empathetic wish to ask him if he wanted to talk about the people he had lost, and Anila was ready to listen to him until the end, but she gave up, affected by the thought that maybe that was too soon, and she had to wait a little longer for Blerimi to get to know her better and trust her, and then they could talk about his family.
 
    "What's your favourite season?" Blerimi asked joyfully. That much melancholy was enough for some time.
 
    "Summer." She immediately adapted to his joyful energy and smiled positively. "Yours?"
 
    "I like autumn more."
 
    "Your favourite colour?"
 
    "Black."
 
    "It suits you," she complimented with a smile, and Blerimi arched his lips lightly to give her the idea that he had liked her compliment. "What's your lucky number?"
 
    "I don't believe in luck."
 
    "What do you believe in?"
 
    "Nothing supernatural, if that's what you mean."
 
    "Oh, I see. I'm Muslim; is that a problem for you?"
 
    "Not at all. You're the same person to me, as before I knew it, as after."
 
    Her appreciative smile at his attitude regarding that information about her and the unfeigned positive look, as if she were merry, convinced him that she hadn't suspected anything and that Blerimi had understated something else with his words.
 
    "What are your plans for this summer?"
 
    "I'm going to do the latest life," she announced. "I'll go on vacation and then be ready for university in the autumn."
 
    "In Albania or abroad?"
 
    "Both here."
 
    "So I have a chance to meet you again, then."
 
    "Yes," Anila chuckled excitedly as a sign of accepting his invitation. "What plans do you have?"
 
    "I'll talk to you," replied Blerimi, and she loved that plan.
 
•••• 
    "Brunilda."
 
    Anila took off her white sneakers by shaking her legs vigorously as soon as she opened the main door and entered the house.
 
    "Bottles in the air?" she addressed her cousin, sitting on the couch in the living room while using her phone. "Meaning, I have come filled with bombs!" Anila moved her hands with clenched fingers, distanced from each other, unable to contain the joy she felt, which was increasing more and more.
 
    "Throw them," Brunilda said without looking up from the phone. "But be careful with the head," she warned calmly.
 
    "Guess who I met today." She left the bag with the skates next to the entrance of the kitchen and sat on her left.
 
    Brunilda turned her head towards the TV and thought silently.
 
    "That man you told two months ago not to speak," she replied, almost certain that it was the correct answer. "Blerimi."
 
    "How did you know?" Anila opened her eyes to her true guess.
 
    "Where did you meet?" Brunilda focused on her cousin in surprise.
 
    "At the ice skating. He came there and talked to Rolandi. We talked together too." Her eyes shone more from contentment because she had experienced that event with only beautiful moments in reality. "He lives alone here in Tirana. His full name is Blerim Agolli."
 
    "What does he do? How old is he?"
 
    "He's twenty-five, and he works at a health products company."
 
    "That's great."
 
    "We'll meet again. I gave him my phone number. And he gave me his number too, of course."
 
    "Your phone number." The introvert was confused for a moment out of concern and fear that he was going to use such private data for negative purposes. "Aren't you... hurrying?"
 
    "No. Where's the rush here? I am attracted to him as a person, and I am interested in getting to know him better. How will I know him if we don't meet and communicate? I'm not a psychic."
 
    "You can know him on Instagram," Brunilda suggested, and she laughed with her best friend. "This was a good one. It's obvious that you like him because you have a totally different aura on your face."
 
    Her cousin grinned excitedly.
 
    "Well, what can I say? I wish you the best."
 
    "What's this?" Anila remarked in surprise. "You will meet him."
 
    "Who knows? Maybe you don't go far enough to make it convenient for me to meet him as your best friend."
 
    "Where are you, Ida. I was going to bring you the wedding invitation today."
 
    Brunilda laughed.
 
    "Now I think you're really hurrying."
 
    "No, no. I have a very different feeling about this one."
 
    "You only spoke to him once," Brunilda reminded her.
 
    "And? Some things have been clear since the beginning. Why complicate life for ourselves for nothing? The sooner, the better."
 
    "Yeah." Brunilda smiled lightly and took her phone from the table.
 
    "Now stand up and get ready." Anila got up first.
 
    "For what?" Brunilda didn't move.
 
    "We'll go out," she said, surprised that her friend was asking something that she could guess easily.
 
    "But you were out."
 
    "They have turned on the music at Skanderbeg Square. Let's go and see what's happening."
 
    "Anila, stop playing the role of the police patrol and check every place where there's loud music." Brunilda's reprimand made her laugh. "Nothing unusual is happening. There's just music, and that's all. Let the police do their job."
 
    "Okay," Anila said, sitting down on the couch again. "But in the evening, we'll go out."
 
    "We'll see."
 
    Brunilda didn't think about going out that evening at all, but only about the possible future meeting with Blerimi.
 
    What if she did something delusional or said something wrong? She would create a negative impression about her, and Anila would be inadequately affected?
 
    The fear of losing her friendship added to the alarming beating of Brunilda's heart, and she allowed the sadness caused by the anxiety to choke her from the feeling that no good events were waiting for her in the future.