The Timing of the Loss of a Love

Chapter Three

She laid there, still unable to move due to her extremely stiff body. She'd only been lying on the parlor couch for a night, but she still felt extremely bored and helpless. Her throat still withheld her voice from her, taunting her with slow, oh such slow healing.

The soft thud of footsteps drew her gaze to the doorway of the parlor. Eramif appeared holding a tray in his well-practiced arms. He had been the butler of the house for several years now. Always serving with a willingness that you seldom find in the human race. He did his job with passion, daily. He went to sleep content with his life, and his day's work.

He set the tray on the small table next to the couch and placed himself in the cushioned chair next to her.

"Alright Acrista, I've got your soup ready. Do you feel like you can sit up?"

She shook her head, for she knew that under no circumstances would she be capable of such an action.

"Alright," he said politely, and in one swift movement he put his arm beneath her back and supported her neck in his hand. He re-arranged the pillows beneath her so they would cradle her aching body into a sitting position. Once he'd laid her back, propped up on the pillows he sat back down in his chair. "Are you ready to eat Acrista?" She nodded weakly, and braced herself for the warm fluid which would soon be sliding down her raw throat. But when Eramif slipped the silver spoon into her mouth the excitement of the flavors washed away any fear of pain she'd had the in the short moments before. The soup was so good that with each bite her eyes brightened with excitement, saying what her voice could not.

As he continued to feed her she realized that she had never really eaten anything Eramif made. Madame Lea always did the cooking. He simply cleaned and maintained.

-Now, don't misread my words, Madame Lea is a wonderful cook. But something about Eramif's soup was simply, different. And in the most wonderful way!

Once she had finished her food he began to give her chilled water in spoonfulls. It was wonderful to have a full stomach again. She hadn't realized how hungry she was due to her preoccupied thoughts.

"Well," he said suddenly, reminding her of his presence. "I guess since mine is really the only voice to be used in the house," he paused and glanced at her, as if looking for a sign of feeling at his words. "I suppose I should do most of the talking, yes?"

She simply stared at him, not knowing how to respond. It was a strange statement. Of course he would be doing most of the talking. She couldn't talk if she wanted to.

"Acrista," he started, "I feel that I need to tell you something. I know that you cannot talk as of now, which I believe is a good thing. But only because what I wish to tell you does not require your response. At least, not yet."

Her mind spun a million miles an hour trying to make sense of his words, but he began to speak again before her foggy mind could come up with an answer.

"Acrista, I know you've gone through a lot in the last few months. It has pained me so much to see you in pain. Acrista, I've loved you for so long... I restrained from telling you sooner, I wished to give you time, I knew you needed to have time to grieve. But seeing you in such pain... all I want is to take it from you! I feel that in letting you know how I see you and feel about you may ease any pain you feel. I do not ask for you to return my feelings. I understand if you would not be willing, or ready to move on at this point, but I only want you to know that you are loved. And I..."  he was cut of by a booming knock on the door.

He hesitated, but only for a moment before getting up and tending to the visitor. Eramif returned to the room after a few minutes of absence. His eyes were red and his face was blotchy. Acrista had never, in all her years of knowing him, seen him cry. He was always composed, strong and happy. His appearance was not where the surprises stopped. He walked slowly to his previous seat, tears slowly trickling down his face. As he collapsed into the chair he loosened his grip on the paper he'd been holding.

He held it at a slight distance so as to read it over again before speaking. "Oh Acrista..." he began to sob, cupping his face with his hands. She could do nothing but watch, her voice and body not permitting her to do anything but watch the distressing sight before her.

After having a moment of horrid jerking sobs, Eramif composed himself enough to look into her deeply worried eyes... "Acrista..." he whispered, barely managing to choke out her name... "Madame Lea...."

Her heart began to race. What could have happened to madam lea to have caused such grief?... but before she would let her mind state what must be so obvious by now, Eramif spoke again...

"She's dead..."