Stranded Memories (Gabenath)

Eight

Nathalie observes him in silence, waiting for him to speak. It's not until her daughter releases the air from her full tummy, that she drifts her gaze away from him to look at the baby resting on her lap. She then grabs the pink washcloth and wipes the spit from around the child's lips and tiny chin.

Gabriel watches her cradle the baby in her arms again. He watches as she slowly leans towards the baby until she is able to press a kiss onto her temple. She rocks her in between her arms until the infant's gray eyes begin to flutter and sleep takes over her precious face.

"Motherhood suits you", he can barely speak without becoming emotional. "What's her name?" Gabriel asks.

"Rose", she mumbles.

Gabriel gives her a soft smile, attempting to control the tears prickling at the corners of his watery eyes. "You couldn't have picked a better name for our daughter, Nathalie."

"Rose", he whispers to himself.

He instantly recalls all the beautiful roses Nathalie and himself saw at the Mediterranean garden at the French Riviera. How Nathalie wanted to take every single colored rose with her, and how he had to stop her because the basket was too full. How he decorated their bed with red and pink roses to then lift Nathalie off the floor, and place her onto the rose covered mattress. And how he took a red rose into his hand, and touched her entire body with the soft petals of the bright flower while he made sweet love to her.

"How old is she?" He asks while wiping at his eyes.

"Six weeks."

"That means she arrived in the middle of September", Gabriel says, and Nathalie nods in response.

He smiles at the realization that all the roses they had encountered on their trip were actually a glowing sign of their daughter's arrival. The roses were indeed telling them that exactly nine months later they would have their own real life rose to take care of and watch grow. Nathalie really couldn't have chosen a better name for their child.

———

Only a handful of things were capable of robbing Henry's sleep, and the previous events that had taken place at the cottage were definitely one of them. He quietly exits his bedroom as he ponders about the man's unexpected arrival.

His footsteps are light against the wooden floor of the small cottage. His feet guide him towards the kitchen door, and when he finds it slightly open, Henry cautiously peaks through to see who's inside.

The sight is surprising to say the least. Diane sits at the breakfast table with her daughter sleeping in between her arms. In front of her is the man who she had refused to speak with just hours ago. She appears calm and untroubled. No present sign of the fear she had displayed when she first saw him.

Henry feels he should go, but there's something in him that doesn't allow him to do so. He simply remains behind the door, ready to listen to their conversation, even if he's well aware that what he's doing is wrong.

"Have you ever wondered how you ended up here?" Henry hears the man ask.

"Everyday", Diane responds.

"Oh my dear, you have no idea how much I regret this. This is all my fault."

Gabriel slowly moves his chair closer to her. His action is so gentle that Diane doesn't notice until he feels rather close to her. "What do you mean it's your fault?"

"I was an idiot, Nathalie. You should know that on our last day together, you and I had an intense argument. I knew I was hurting you, but my pride got the worst of me my darling, and I'm so sorry for that. I guess you had enough and decided to drive away from Paris. Drive away from me.