Silas Kember's Arc

Chapter 6 of 10

Vera asked for two evenings. One for each man. Garret took the first. Silas would take the second. He waited a whole day knowing the blacksmith sat across from her somewhere, saying things Silas could not hear. Garret met her under the glowing tree in the square. Its branches hung heavy with soft lanterns, pink light pooling on the stones. He did not speak much. Instead he reached across the table and took her hand. He pressed her palm the way he once had, thumb against her knuckles. "You remember this," he said. "Your hands know me. They always have." Vera let him hold her hand a long moment. Then she pulled it back. The next evening belonged to Silas. He found Vera at a small table near the water, under the willow. Its long branches brushed the grass. He had left the satchel of letters at home. He brought nothing but himself. "No paper tonight," Vera said. She almost smiled. "No paper," Silas agreed. He sat. He did not reach for her hand. He asked her about the bakery, about the morning she burned her first loaf, about why she came back to Ivywood at all. She talked. He listened. He answered her questions too, slow and honest, with no ink to hide behind. The night grew long. The willow swayed above them. At last Vera set down her cup. "Garret held my hand last night," she said. "He wanted me to feel the old life in my skin." She looked at Silas. "But I kept thinking of someone who asked me questions instead. Someone who wanted to know me now, not who I was." Silas held his breath. "I told Garret this morning," Vera said. "It's over. The girl who married him is gone. I want the man who listens." She reached across and took Silas's hand. "I choose you." Silas's chest filled with warmth he had chased for a year. He opened his mouth to answer. Then footsteps crossed the grass behind him. A woman stopped at the edge of the willow's shade. Red hair. A small easel under her arm. Paint-flecked gloves. Silas turned, and his face fell. Nora. His ex-fiancee. The woman he had planned a whole life with before she left him. She stood there as if no years had passed. "Silas," Nora said softly. "I came back for you." His body moved before his mind caught up. He stood. He took one step back from the table. Then, out of old habit, he crossed the grass and hugged her. Her arms closed around him. Halfway through the embrace he remembered. Vera. The table. The hand that had just chosen him. Silas pulled back fast. He turned toward Vera. Vera was already on her feet. Her face had gone pale. She looked at the woman in Silas's arms, then at Silas. She said nothing. She picked up her shawl and walked away into the dark.