Paris, August 1927, Windrose Villa.

I attended the ball with a sense of unease that couldn't be shaken. A recent setback in court this morning, where the witness for my side miraculously altered their testimony, had left me at a disadvantage. To add to it, Andermis's enigmatic pocket watch might not be ticking anymore. And not stopping at that, my daughter Francine had experienced her first bout of "becoming a woman," marking her transition from girlhood. I had a busy day to contend with, yet here I was, obligated to attend this party. How could I refuse? The host was Madelynn, who was also one of my closest friends. She had implored me to attend her bachelorette party. Tomorrow, Madelynn would be marrying Mr. Leo Murray, a World War veteran nearly a decade her senior.

Madelynn had treated me well in the initial years when I arrived in France. We started as roommates in the same row of houses. She was three years younger than me, a French country girl who had come to the city to pursue her education. Madelynn's dream was to become a nurse. She met Mr. Leo at the hospital, and over time, their connection deepened into love. Madelynn and I had stayed in touch even after she moved out of that row of houses. So, I couldn't possibly miss an important day for Madelynn because of my own troubles. And here I was, present in this lavish setting, where everyone was dressed elegantly and alluringly, hoping that after tonight, they wouldn't be single anymore.

For nearly half the party, I remained in a corner, observing everyone while nursing a glass of wine, nibbling on some crackers. I wore a dress of emerald green and a feathered mask concealing my eyes. It was Madelynn's theme for the evening—to dress as one's inner self. No one's identity was to be revealed, and everyone attended with a sense of mystery and thrill. This concept of Madelynn's was born from her own experience with her husband-to-be. Mr. Leo had been injured on his face, and Madelynn had to wear a mask during their courtship. They connected through words, stories, and thoughtful actions, slowly bringing them closer without ever seeing each other's faces. I had to commend Madelynn for her unique and meaningful idea, but honestly, at times, the mask felt suffocating against my skin. I yearned to take it off, even remove my gown and leave, but I pushed these thoughts aside for Madelynn's sake. I sighed, and then sighed again, and silently buried myself in a corner, in sync with the ticking of the clock. Tick... tock... Tick... tock...

Finally, Madelynn noticed my visible discomfort in this overly crowded event. She excused herself from a conversation with guests and came over to me in her crimson dress, clapping me on the shoulder, and exclaimed in excitement:

"Come on, Fiona, cheer up! Today is my joyful day!"

"Isn't tomorrow the official day?" I teased. "You're saving up emotions for tomorrow, aren't you?"

"I know you so well, Fiona. You don't have to hide it!"

"Okay, okay!" I sighed. "I just feel so out of place and distant!"

"Then let me introduce you to some gentlemen!" Madelynn enthused.

"No need..."

"Do you see the tallest man among that trio over there? That's Mr. Eugéne Warren, a prominent businessman in the textile industry. He's been divorced once and is currently single."

Madelynn hardly cared whether I wanted to mingle or not, she continued introducing me to one man after another. She went on and on, forgetting the rule of maintaining guests' anonymity. Counting again and again, there were probably more than ten distinguished gentlemen she had showcased.

While appreciative of Madelynn's patience, I felt overwhelmed by the pedigrees of these men. Editors, war veterans, even a heart-throbbing doctor. Despite hearing all these grand titles, I couldn't sense an ounce of substance behind those names. Fortunately, Madelynn was pulled away by her friends, and I was freed from the list of those refined and charming men. Of course, I intended to find someone, but it had to be someone who resonated on a deeper level, not just a hollow title.

I waited for what felt like an eternity, so much so that I lost track of time. The tedium was sapping my energy, to the point that I fell asleep without realizing it. I slouched in a corner, looking quite pitiful. If not for the dress I was wearing, someone might have mistaken me for a market woman. My head nodded like a pecking chicken, groggily drooping like a pile of crumpled paper trying to reform into a sphere. I hadn't realized I was nearly collapsing on the floor when a pair of hands caught me just in time.

I awoke from my drowsy slumber. Before me stood a man, of course, wearing a mask. I recognized him, though. Madelynn had mentioned his name, but curiously, I couldn't recall who he was other than being a children's book author. Before I could fully gather my senses, he smiled amiably and initiated conversation:

"Is the party that dull for you, madam?"

"Thank you," I tilted my face away from his hand, responding with a grateful expression.

"I'm aware of the party's rule against disclosing identities, but I find it rather impolite if a gentleman doesn't introduce himself to a lady," the man spoke with a layer of elegance, impressing me completely. "I am Daresmin Lambert."

"You're the novelist, aren't you?" I exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes, that's me. I'm surprised you know me, as I tend to keep a low profile."

"I'm Fiona, a family law attorney."

"Quite impressive!"

I held his hand, our fingers interlocking, and suddenly a strange feeling surged within me. I didn't know who he was behind that mask, yet there was something about him that felt incredibly familiar. For a moment, I behaved quite rudely, staring at him intensely. I didn't want to appear as if I were swooning, but his jawline seemed oddly close. Not only that, his lips, his nose, they resembled someone I once knew, someone I loved and cherished. Despite the dim lighting in the room, as faint as fireflies' glow, I could make out every detail perfectly. I knew I was being foolish, entertaining such thoughts, but I couldn't help myself. Emotions inside me swelled like crashing waves. The most terrifying thing wasn't accepting that someone was no longer here, it was confronting those who bore an uncanny resemblance to past acquaintances. Christophe was a case in point, and now, here, I was faced with someone so similar again.

"Why is my face sticky?" His words snapped me out of the dreamlike trance. It was just a person resembling someone, after all. Why hadn't I learned my lesson by now? I quickly shook my head and responded, "It's nothing... it's just that you remind me of someone I know."

"Can you recognize even with this mask?" Daresmin's surprise was evident in his voice.

I offered a faint smile, using the mask as an excuse to be candid and open. I didn't know why I was doing it, but words poured out freely from my lips. Daresmin wasn't privy to who I was, after all, so maybe that's why I felt I could express myself so openly.

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"He used to be my light, my elixir, and my warmth. He used to be everything to me. I would be cursed not to recognize him." Daresmin seemed taken aback by my words, as if surprised a lady could utter them so frankly. I hadn't expected much of a response from someone I'd just met, though there was an uncanny connection I couldn't explain. Surprisingly, he seemed genuinely intrigued by what I shared. He chuckled, his demeanor light, and asked, "But you almost mistook me for him?"

"Just a resemblance, that's all!" I shook my head with a chuckle. "But you do bear quite a resemblance."

"Should I be happy or sad about that?"

"Perhaps you should stay away from me," I replied playfully. "No one near me seems to have a good outcome."

"Then my latest book is surely doomed!" he quipped.

We exchanged amused glances and laughed together. Moments ago, I had appeared serious or disappointed with myself, and now I was laughing like a child while conversing with him. I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't expected a stranger to engage with me so easily. His presence reminded me of Andermis. When we first met, he approached me in a similar manner. Penetrating my façade, teasing me, and making me laugh. Even my lips felt moist from that humor. While I didn't need to jest or engage in any silly banter, and regardless of the formalities or pretense, without any hidden agendas, Daresmin effortlessly overcame my defenses with that tone.

Oh! If Daresmin spoke English, I might have truly believed he was Andermis!

My mind raced back to Andermis. The first encounter had been similar. Looking into my core, playfully teasing, and making me laugh. Even some of his story elements were similar. Could it really be a coincidence of this magnitude? I wished I could just remove the mask now, immediately, yet a final shred of dignity held me back. What if it were Andermis? If he were alive, why hadn't he tried to contact or find me in all these years? Why approach me now? But if Daresmin wasn't Andermis, then was I just making a fool of myself? No matter the outcome, I was powerless.

Suddenly, a drop of insight fell into the tranquil pond of my thoughts. I lifted my head, locking eyes with him, a gaze of determination. I grabbed his hand after a prolonged internal struggle. I held his hand not because he resembled Andermis or because of the feelings he stirred. I held his hand because Daresmin was the only one who approached me out of all the ladies out there. He chose to engage with me even when I was concealed beneath this mask. He chose me because of me, and maybe it was time I did the same.

As I reached for his hand, it wasn't about the resemblance, the familiarity, or even the potential feelings he might evoke. It was about him, about us, about the choice he had made to step forward into my world, into the realm of a mysterious stranger. And now, maybe it was my turn to take that step.

"Daresmin led me into the bustling dance floor, keeping pace with the others. One of my hands held his, the other rested on his shoulder, while he placed his on my waist. Our bodies swayed to the gentle rhythm of the music, like a stream flowing smoothly through its course. The feeling of suffocation had lifted completely. Everything seemed to loosen up in his presence. I had chosen him for himself, yet I couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between the two of them. My heart pounded erratically as I felt the warmth his hand provided. And this fragrance… How could I mistake it? Beneath this layer of perfume, there was something that still lingered from Andermis. I tried to suppress the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me right now. But I couldn't be sure if it was him, and I couldn't directly ask. Left with no other choice, I had to rely on my scarce luck. I cleared my throat lightly and cautiously said:

"Andermis?"

"Who?," Daresmin looked surprised.

I felt disappointment wash over me. I had hoped for a startled or dazed reaction from Daresmin, yet perhaps I was overthinking things. I smiled apologetically and shook my head:

"I'm sorry… For a moment, I thought you were my Andermis… I shouldn't have treated you that way!"

"Do I really look that much like him?," Daresmin gazed at me with eyes full of depth.

"Yes…," I nodded. "It's ironic, fate always wants me to face people who share the same appearance and features…"

Melodic notes of the music filled the air like heavenly harmonies. Everyone in the room seemed intoxicated by the lavender scent on their faces. I thought I could finally dance comfortably again, but the profound love I held for Andermis remained restless. He had left with countless promises left unfulfilled. Every passing day, I waited, just because of his single promise. I even felt anxious on sunny days, as he had once casually mentioned he would return on such a day. But what was left after all those nine years? I was growing weary from this waiting, yet I couldn't resist it.

Daresmin's hand on my hip suddenly tightened. I sensed a firm grip from that position. I looked up at him, but by now, Daresmin had lowered his head slightly. I wanted to inquire why he seemed so emotional. I didn't want to appear rude in our first meeting. But before I could ask, the music changed, becoming more intimate. Daresmin didn't dare to look up at me, as if intentionally avoiding my gaze. And then, with a voice quivering with emotion, he spoke:

"What if he's still alive?"

I froze for a moment. No, it felt like I was turning to stone upon hearing him. My intuition seemed to whisper something about this man. My feelings about him, from the first encounter, were becoming clearer. I couldn't say anything until he repeated the question. My lips trembled slightly:

"If he were truly alive, he'd surely never stop searching for me…"

"What if he's been searching, but in ways you haven't realized?," Daresmin continued with concern. "What if he's been dropping hints that you couldn't see?"

"I don't need hints, or riddles. I just need Andermis to appear right in front of me…," I choked on my breath as I uttered those words.

"What if he vanished for reasons that he couldn't control?"

"What reason could cause someone to disappear for such a long time?," I shook my head, speaking with tears welling up in my eyes.

Unintentionally, we moved toward the center of the room, where all the lights converged upon us. I could hear murmurs from beneath the mask. My lips pressed tightly, holding back a torrent of emotions. Daresmin's hand on my hip slowly retreated. He hesitated for a moment, then raised his face. Were those tears? For some reason, the corner of my eye was dampening even before he did anything. Daresmin's trembling arm reached up, gradually removing the mask that hid his face. My eyes widened like two open windows, eagerly welcoming the morning sun of a new day. The atmosphere seemed to freeze around us. There was no music, no movements, only me and Daresmin. Or rather, Andermis.

"For this reason, Fiona…"

That voice, in English, returned like a magical elixir, awakening all the memories I had gathered over the years. I might not be able to see Andermis in that face anymore. The faded burns, the prominent scars had marred the familiar features. But I couldn't forget his sweet voice. That sound had saved me throughout that time. It was inspiration, burning love, an addictive drug that I willingly indulged in, knowing it could be harmful, yet diving in without regret. I hadn't uttered a word since Daresmin removed that mask. How could it take me so long to realize that the man I was talking to was, in fact, him all along?

"He never stopped loving you, Fiona, all these years. He was by your side, hidden beneath this mask. He just couldn't face you in this guise...

He thought he'd never appear before you. He thought he'd silently watch you date and marry. He thought he'd be ready to let go. But Fiona… he's just like you, the one thing he can't let go of is you!

Among these men, and behind this mask, you still saw him through the voice, the form, even the scent. You recognized him even before he recognized himself. That's why he could summon the courage to unveil himself to you.

He wished he could have come to you on a sunny day..."

I knew everyone was expecting an outpouring of pain, with tears and reproach. I was probably predicting the scenarios people were thinking of. But weren't they all just ideas? My mother once said that reality is often simpler than ideas because sometimes it just happens without any orchestration. My reality was simple, too—I had taken too long to understand it. But now, at an age my mother was when she spoke those words, I suddenly got it. I didn't even need to think, it just felt right!

The music still played gently, and the tempo gradually picked up. The second round of the dance had come to an end. Andermis and I exchanged five minutes of silence, just looking at each other, no words needed. The others around us had their own conversations, unaffected by our shared moment. The initial notes suddenly resurged, and I felt like the person at the end of a tunnel seeing a glimmer of light. A tango! I remembered the night before my wedding. I had thought it would be my last tango, but based on past experiences, I didn't think so now.

Slowly, despite the music having advanced, and everyone comfortably entwined in their couples, I didn't force anything, regret or analyze, I simply took off the mask I was wearing on my face. I didn't let him continue to hide behind those scars either. The masks fell to the floor with a sound as if love's music was swallowing them whole.

I was still waiting for something. My body remained fixed in place, and Andermis looked at me in bewildered incomprehension. The clock's hands ticked away relentlessly, each movement emitting a crisp sound in the night. The drum's beat fell, accompanied by the graceful melody of the violin, like a silk scarf caressing the body of a beautiful woman. I suddenly extended my hand in front of him, bending my knee slightly. The audience seemed affected by the scene, their feet hesitating in mid-air. The orchestra paused briefly to witness the unusual occurrence, but they resumed playing upon Madelynn's request. Andermis couldn't stop his astonishment at what was happening. But I didn't care, because amidst all the grandeur here, the only thing I focused on was a single truth. I didn't need to know what war had taken from him; I just needed to know that battered heart still beat fiercely for me. Life was inherently simple, but people had a way of complicating everything. I'd experienced it, and I knew it well. This time, that wouldn't be allowed to continue.

I looked at him, smiling with utter simplicity. People crowded to one side of the room, observing like an audience at a play. Up on the balcony, Madelynn leaned into Leo's embrace, her smile radiant. I'd always believed he'd return to me, regardless of how much time had passed unwaveringly. Suddenly, I thought of Christophe. Poor boy, it seemed I'd have to shatter his heart all over again!

My gaze remained fixed on him, brimming with emotions. I raised and lowered my hand in a seductive and deadly invitation. I batted my eyelashes. Gently, pure, and unhidden, I became entranced like a Russian girl with fingers twined in the strings of copper by the calm shores of Lake Baikal. Playfully, I purred:

"Mr. Morten, would you care to tango with me?"

The End.