The tree that stood in the middle of the house was barely visible through the dark, as the old man entered quietly from the blizzard outside. Gently closing the door and turning on the light, he breathed a sigh of relief. Her leaves were a bit perkier than the last time he came here. The house was a difficult hike to get to from  the centre of town even on the clearest of days, but during one of the worst snow storms in decades it took him twice as long to travel than it normally would, and he wasn’t as spry as he used to be.

He gingerly removed his shoes and gloves. His gnarled, arthritic fingers were so cold they were starting to turn blue. It had managed to stay above freezing in here despite the weather outside, though the air still had a bite to it. He blew into his hands and switched on the space heater by the empty television stand. A bit of light and warmth would do both of them some good.

He turned to unpack his bag, laying out his supplies on the dining table to assess his stock. An assortment of baked beans, cans of soup, tinned fruits and crackers. He had brought enough supplies to last two weeks. He didn’t want to have to make the trip back any time soon, but he would have to travel back down the mountain to get food from the general store eventually. He silently prayed that the snow would let up by then. Reaching the house without a car was no mean feat, but hiking back down the mountain would be treacherous now.

Most trees faded and renewed with the seasons, but this was not the case for the tree resting in his living room. He suspected it would not be much longer before that became true, however. This tree had been in perpetual spring for a while now, its leaves fresh and soft.  He tenderly caressed a branch that had just begun to sprout new buds. Some of the leaves on the higher branches rustled, as if to welcome him. Maybe he was imagining it.

“Melia, it’s me, Elmar. I’m home. I’m glad you are well.”

She had not planned to take root here. They wanted to spend their final years together along the warm shores of the coast. But illness had held them back, and then their finances, and before either of them realised it was too late. She had gone silent for over six months now. It felt like he hadn’t heard her voice for a lifetime. Now, her roots had torn up the pink carpet and pushed themselves deep into the floorboards. Her branches pressed tightly up against the high ceiling, scraping up the Anaglypta wallpaper and encompassing nearly the entire living room and the open kitchen beyond it. One errant branch, despite her best efforts, had even punctured a small window pane. Every so often a bitterly cold gust howled into the living room. He would need to reapply the cardboard patch he'd taped over it, but right now he was too tired.

Elmar didn’t want to leave her here in an empty, run-down house. It was hard for him to admit, but living without help was getting more and more difficult for him recently. Cleaning and redecorating was laborious. Even the tasks he was fond of, like gardening, were painstaking with the hernia throbbing in his side. A few months ago his son had initially offered for him to move in with him and Gail, but Elmar didn’t want to intrude and they lived too far away. Alex then gently tried to convince him to move into an assisted living facility. Just to try it out, to see how he got on. He said having a bit of extra help close by while still keeping some independence would do his father some good. And no affordable carer was willing to trek all the way up to this place. Elmar had relented, but his heart remained here and the time away had been hard.

He pulled up one of the dining chairs, taking care not to catch it on the tree’s roots. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would have to do. The loveseat that she treasured so much was now trapped underneath her boughs, and after three long years of immobility it had almost completely been absorbed.

“Tobias is doing well. He was asking after you again. Said it’s been too long since you saw the little sproutlings. Not that they’re little any more.” He pulled a book out of his bag and clumsily turned to the page he had dog-eared. 

“They miss their Grams. Told him I’d bring them up here come spring to spend some time with you.” He chuckled, “Though, they’d have a fit if they knew I was coming here alone.”

He couldn’t bear to leave her alone out here for the entirety of winter. When he saw the weather report he knew that he had to be here. He wouldn’t let her spend four months alone during such an unforgiving cold snap. Especially given how sensitive to the cold she had been.

Had been. Elmar felt a sudden rush of guilt. He was already thinking of Melia in the past tense. He distracted himself by scanning the opened book to find where he was up to last time, and began to read aloud. He’d brought one of Melia’s favourite books with him. They used to read together all the time, each taking turns. Now it was his voice alone.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He was nearing the end of his second chapter when his eyelids began to droop. The exhaustion from the day’s travel was catching up to him, and the merciful warmth of the heater was making him drowsy despite the occasional howl of wind coming from the window. He stifled a yawn. A cup of tea, then bed. He was just filling the kettle in the kitchen, when the groan of warping wood roused him. And if he concentrated on the susurration of leaves, a voice-

“Elmar? Elmar, my heart?”

Elmar nearly dropped the kettle.

“Yes! Melia my sweet, I am here!” He rushed over to the trunk, and in his haste his foot caught in a root. Branches reached down to catch his fall, leaves and young vines gently twisting around his arms.

Elmar swallowed down the lump in his throat and met her eyes. Where once there had been a large knot in the bark of the wide trunk, there was now a face. Though gnarled and encased in grey, it was still every bit Melia’s gentle smile. “It feels a lot colder now. How long has it been since we last spoke?”

“It’s been about six months. A lot chillier now than that scorching heatwave we just had, eh?”  He wasn’t sure what the passage of time felt like for all trees, but for Melia it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, as if she was quietly sleeping between their brief moments speaking together. “I don’t know if you heard me, but I was reading to you just now.” He tried to keep the warble out of his voice, but there was no fooling her.

“Orpheus and Eurydice, right? I was listening. You know I love that one.”

She gently reached over to caress his face, vines and twigs twisting and snapping together to form a hand. She went quiet for a while, as if trying to find the right words. “The time is close now, I think.” When she saw his face twist, she added, “I am not leaving you, love. I am merely returning to Mother Nature, to what I once was.”

Elmar threaded his fingers in hers, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. “Oh Melia. My Melia.” The tears were flowing freely now. There was no stopping them. 

He knew the guilt Melia was feeling was insurmountable. While the illness had slowly caused the leaves and flowers in her hair to require more frequent pruning at first, the metamorphosis had sped up rapidly once her bonded tree was lost. The tree was originally her great-grandmother’s and it had been sickly with wilt for a long time. She frequently went out into the forest beyond the house to dance and sing to it. One day a particularly bad autumn storm uprooted it. Her wail when she felt the old sycamore fall still echoed in Elmar’s ears. There was no escaping her fate at that point; once a dryad loses their bonded tree they morph to replace what was lost. She blamed herself for not re-bonding with the young oak sapling in Tobias’ garden when they had initially planned to move. She had left it too late. But it wasn’t her fault. How could any of this be her fault?

She sighed, foliage swaying despite there being no wind. “I am sorry for putting you through this. I wasn’t supposed to be the first to leave.”

“Don’t you dare apologise. Don’t you dare,” Elmar choked, “You couldn’t help it.”

“Elmar, please don’t feel like you are tied down here. To this place. I know you’ve been struggling for a while now-” he tried to interject but Melia continued “-I don’t want you to be alone. The boys can always bring you up here to visit this place. And my heart will always remain with you.”

 “Alex has been looking after me. He helped me move into Cavendish Court recently.” He hoped to set her mind at ease, despite how hard it was to lie to her.

She looked relieved, “That place Darius moved into a while back?”

“Yes,” He took her hand in his, and she squeezed it gently, “But for now I’ve come back to stay here. I will be with you until the very end, Mel. I can manage until then, I promise. I love you so much, my heart”

“And I you,” Her voice was barely a whisper. Speaking was becoming difficult now, “Will you talk with me? About our time together?” 

“Of course.”

And so he talked, and talked. About their childhood, their first date. Their holiday to France. The time when the car broke down and they ended up lost in the woods. Their grandchildren. Alex’s new job and Tobias’ 10th wedding anniversary. 

On the mantelpiece, the clock reached midnight. He fell silent. Melia’s eyes were closed, a smile upon her lips. 

Elmar leaned over, and kissed them softly, “Goodnight.”

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Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! This was written as part of a monthly writing challenge on a forum I'm a member of. The challenge was to continue a story from the prompt: "The tree that stood in the middle of the house was barely visible through the dark, as the old man entered quietly from the blizzard outside."

Obviously it's referencing a Christmas tree given it was a December challenge, but I wanted to take it somewhere else.

I'd love to hear what you think, and please don't hold back on any critique you may have! I'm trying to improve my skills as a writer little by little :)