On New Year's Eve in 1919, at the Moderford estate,

Fireworks burst into the dark sky, breaking four years of concealment beneath gunfire's glare. Francine and I, along with our loved ones, try to forget sorrows and embrace the new year's significance. The war ended, pain faded. A fresh start looms. We face the reality that losses are inevitable, yet life must go on. I believe I'm handling it well. I can't disappoint those I cherish.

Loved ones dance joyfully under the moonlit night, bonfires casting a warm glow. Peter and Josephine, as Andermis foresaw, are now a couple. Their faces radiate happiness. Even an outsider like me feels touched. Peter performs the traditional Ai-len river dance gracefully, while Josephine's rural Xcốt-len dance matches his skill. Francine's curiosity gets the best of her; she joins Josephine's dance. Francine stumbles cutely, trying her best, becoming irresistibly adorable. I sit on a stone, contentedly watching everyone connect artistically.

Looking towards the silent house, I see Augustin's room still lit. I stand up, stepping away from the crowd, gaze fixed on his room. Augustin stands above, pulling back curtains. He notices my attention, gently letting them fall while the light persists. Tonight, Augustin will provide me the answer I've longed for. Although I don't know his answer, I'm not as at ease as I thought. Nonetheless, I must accept the path I've chosen. I'll go to him and embrace the answer.

After telling a bedtime story to my daughter, I return to my room to prepare. Tonight, I don a white gown, cinched with a faux gold belt. Hair tied high, makeup bolder. Slowly, I approach Augustin's room. Passing Andermis's room, I involuntarily stop, touching the door, hoping for warmth. Despite accepting Andermis's departure, I can't fully believe it. I can't bear to think he'd leave again.

I open the door, a hauntingly cold space inside. No light, no warmth, only faded memories. I stand in a daze, fingertips gliding over once-familiar surfaces. Absentmindedly, I approach the dusty cabinet. I tremble as I open it; nothing remains. Andermis's belongings are neatly packed in vases in the warehouse. I close the door, standing silently. Perhaps it's for the best. Tears would flow if I saw his clothes. I leave the room of memories with a beating heart. It's time to truly accept this reality.

I enter Augustin's room, seeing him with his back turned. I stand in silence, watching quietly. His fingers rhythmically tap the armrest, pattern uncertain. Grown individuals burdened with loneliness, unable to find words. Time in this room mirrors our emotions' depth. It flows like clouds, uncertain of destination. He turns, his gaze hollow as it meets mine. What can we say? Divorce's agreement isn't easy, more complicated with Francine. Children are a marriage's greatest tie. No matter the outcome, Francine will be most affected.

"Here for my answer?" Augustin's voice is deep, carrying twilight's melancholic melody. I sit down, emotions dulled more than I realized.

"Yes..." Augustin wheels over, something catches, struggles. I help him, untangling threads. He watches as I untangle, self-deprecating smile forming. He comments wryly, "Even threads make me helpless."

"Don't say that, Augustin..." I stand, disposing of the threads. Passing the table, I notice divorce papers. Augustin must've seen my hidden disappointment. He stays silent, watching me return with gratitude and turmoil.

"Trust I have conditions?" My eyes widen, not trusting my ears.

Augustin doesn't reply immediately, staying quiet. He bows his head, fingers tapping the armrest rhythmically. I know I'm right. Knees come together, palms on thighs. I look up, expression filled with appreciation.

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"If Francine can be with me, nothing else matters. Any request you have, I'll comply."

"I do have a wish..." his voice resonates softly, a bittersweet tone.

I listen intently, waiting for the demand that could release me from turmoil. Time passes, no words. Augustin turns towards me. I remain vigilant, sitting up straight. I understand what he wants. My heart races, not because I want it, but because I don't know if I dare. I think of Augustin's concessions, and I have no choice. Would it be terrible out of guilt? Augustin's lips meet mine before I think. I've come to a point where his touch no longer feels normal. I close my eyes, imagining it's familiar, but taste and sensation can't be deceived.

After a while, he releases my lips. His hands lift my chin, his expression inscrutable as he observes my trembling body, nerves jangling like a plucked string. I lower my head, trying to steady my breath, preventing it from shattering into pieces. Both of us share a look of vulnerability and pressure. Augustin leans back in his chair, silence hanging heavy as he contemplates something. My once sturdy façade begins to crack under his intense gaze. His intertwined fingers gently part, and he softly utters:

"You can undress now."

I widen my eyes, looking at him, and even though I anticipated this moment, everything happens so swiftly. I awkwardly stand, unsteady, trying to remove my clothes, but in my confusion, I can't even manage to unclasp my dress. I turn back to Augustin, my face flushed, slowly pulling off my attire. What am I feeling? Embarrassment, helplessness, or coercion? Surprisingly, all I sense is emptiness.

"You can stop now," his voice emerges from behind, halting me from shedding more after exposing my bare chest. I hold my clothes to my chest, then turn my head to glance at him. Augustin is right behind, holding the divorce papers still damp with ink. I furrow my brows, looking at him in disbelief. Tonight, Augustin has taken me from one surprise to another. Suspicion rises, and I pull my clothes back on, then take the divorce papers from his hand. His eyes carry a haunting look, tinted with a lingering sadness. It's been a while since I've seen him cry. Tears streak down his face, not bursting or overflowing, just quietly cascading. I whisper his name softly, yet my own tears join the stream. Augustin struggles to push his wheelchair, refusing my help when I reach out. He turns away, shielding his emotions from my view. But how can I not know? The stifled sounds caught in his throat morph into quiet sobs. Never have I seen Augustin so exposed, vulnerable. No, it's not vulnerability. When a man dares to cry in front of a woman, he's truly strong to be able to do that. I won't call it humiliation or emasculation; it's a unique, beautiful, and sincere side of him. His heart aches as he signs the divorce papers, signifying his love for me, allowing me to seek my own happiness. Not every man can do that. We might not have a lifelong bond, but now Augustin will have a place in my heart.

"Thank you, Augustin," I softly speak with a tone of gratitude.

"Even if I tried to find the woman I married, as you said, she's gone," Augustin's voice trembles, a tinge of melancholy still present.

"She's gone," I slowly affirm. "But I believe she'll love you again for doing this for me. You don't know what it means to me."

"I do know," Augustin sighs with regret. "Now you can pursue your own happiness."

I remain silent, unable to utter a word. I bow my head, revisiting the old memories of Augustin and me. I wish things could have ended differently. At this moment, there's so much to wish for, but the forces are at odds, and there's nothing more I can do.

Suddenly, I burst into a gentle laughter. For the first time in years of marriage, all the uncertainties seem to have dissipated completely. I walk lightly to his side. Augustin looks surprised, his eyes still bearing traces of those long tears. I sit down, tilt my head up to meet his gaze, then smile. After that, I lean in, kissing him deeply, a kiss far from the forced one earlier. I know this is what he needed all along, as I can now hear his heart returning to its regular beat, and the surge of happiness radiating from within him. After a while, I release his lips, and sweetly say:

"This is the kiss of the woman you married. Thank you, Augustin."

Seeing Augustin's satisfied smile, I know I've done the right thing. I leave his room in a euphoric daze. Oh! I can hardly believe that after so many years, I can finally feel both physical and spiritual freedom. Yet, I can't stop thinking about Augustin. He has shown me his beautiful side. All this time, I had been mistaken, even resentful. I might not be able to love him again, but I hope someday Augustin will find another woman, someone more deserving than me, to love him, care for him, and cherish him. As for me, perhaps by then, Francine and I will be under a different sky! We're heading to Paris. Though I haven't figured out what I'll do or how I'll make a living, I've decided to begin my new life there. Andermis and I had once thought about coming here, and even though he's no longer with us, I'll still keep my promise.

Paris, it's just around the corner!