Eduardo's Arc

Chapter 63 of 115

The Wednesday after Kiersten asked him to come sooner, Eduardo felt the old itch return. She read his ledger every Friday now. She sat close and turned his pages. But he had not written the one thing he still hid. He wanted her back. He wanted it so much it scared him. He feared that want made him the same man he used to be. So he drove out to see Fortune, the tarot animal who had steered him true before. Fortune met him beside a house built of cards. Each card stood on its edge, layered into a small tower that leaned but did not fall. Fortune's face showed a wheel caught mid-turn. Its legs shifted toward Eduardo, following him, not choosing for itself. "I read her my ledger," Eduardo said. "But I keep one thing off the page. I want her back. I'm scared wanting it makes me the old me." "A man hides one coin and calls the rest of his purse honest," Fortune said. "The purse is not honest. The coin is the whole account." Eduardo looked at the card house. "Then show me the roads. Every choice. Where each one lands." Fortune touched a card with one paw. "You have three doors," it said. "First door. You keep the want buried. You read her the ledger and say nothing. She smells the hidden coin. She stops trusting the book. Nothing has changed, so she leaves." Fortune touched a second card. "Second door. You chase her with the want. You push. You make the reading a courtship. That is the old wheel. She feels it turn and she runs." Fortune touched the top card, the one holding the whole tower steady. "Third door. You tell her the want plainly. You ask for nothing. You let her hold the coin and decide." "That's the hardest one," Eduardo said. "It is the only one where she stays and the book stays true," Fortune said. "A door shut twice becomes a wall. But a purse opened fully becomes trust." The card house held its lean, cards balanced on cards, none pushing another down. Eduardo watched it and understood. He had built his whole life on the second door. He drove home carrying the third. Friday came at dusk. Kiersten sat on the step and opened his ledger. Eduardo closed it with his hand, the way he had before. "There's one thing I never wrote," he said. He kept his eyes on the yard. "I want you back. I want it bad. I didn't write it because I was scared it made me the old me." Kiersten went still. He did not ask her anything. He let the coin sit in the open. "You just handed me the last thing you were hiding," she said. She picked up the ledger. "Nothing's buried now." She looked at him a long time. "That's the only reason I'm still here."