They found themselves back on the quiet stretch of road that led to Rinaldo’s home just as the sun dipped below the water’s horizon. The last notes of birdsong and the swirling orange clouds in the dimming blue sky heralded the coming night. Hildebrand followed Hugo closely, enough for their hands to brush past each other as they swung opposite ways, coming close enough to touch and go, but never meet.

“Strange,” Hugo said.

“What is?” Hildebrand asked.

He gestured to the neat rows of trees that veiled the private path from the salty ocean wind, taming it into a gentle breeze. The greatest danger Rinaldo and his family could ever know was a stray splash of cool sea water or the pinch of a wayward crab who lost his way. The vigilant trees even quieted the sounds of the splashing waves and the shrill cries of seagulls.

“What’s strange about it?” Hildebrand asked.

“I never imagined Ren could live like this,” he said. “It’s so peaceful.”

“The Old Man wasn’t always so gloomy,” Hildebrand said. “He used to smile more. He used to be happy.”

“Before Gisella died you mean,” Hugo said.

Hildebrand nodded.

“I didn’t know you two had such a long history,” Hugo said.

“I’m older than you think!” She couldn’t help herself. She poked Hugo’s nose. “And wiser too.”

Hugo chuckled. “You’re only two years older than me,” he said.

Hildebrand scoffed. “Did I tell you that?”

“You did,” Hugo answered.

“I must have been out of my mind,” Hildebrand said. “Why in the world would I tell you that?”

“Hahaha. Hahaha!” Hugo’s laughter drifted away on the breeze, along with the unspoken words the pair had on the tips of their tongues. They quietly watched as the ocean swallowed the last golden light in the sky, letting a quiet, purple evening settle in.

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“Isn’t it perfect?” Hildebrand asked. She didn’t dare look at Hugo out of fear that she might see the answer written on his face.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Are you happy?” Hildebrand asked.

“…Yes,” he said.

Hildebrand listened to his sweet little lies and smiled. She slowly drifted away from Hugo, lingering near the trees that guarded the path. The breeze carried a lone leaf into Hildebrand’s face. When she peeled it off, she found herself spying on Hugo through the hole in the middle.

Hugo was scruffy and haggard. He too looked worn and torn, and tired, like an old statue that stood vigilantly watching over mankind for eons. Hildebrand let the ocean breeze carry the golden leaf away to horizons yet unknown and her eyes met Hugo's. She had made the world for those who suffered, for those who were tired, for those who needed her shoulder.

Hildebrand smiled, she smiled, awkwardly, with all of her might. And she was met with sullen eyes and a taciturn gaze that made her tremble.

***

They continued down the road to Rinaldo’s home. The warm light glimmering through windowpanes led the way as night arrived in all its dark chill. Like the tower that once stood in its place, the quaint home was a beacon, a lighthouse that broke the darkness and guided wayward souls.

Hildebrand’s pace slowed the closer she got, like trying to touch infinity. But Hugo walked ahead, his hands resting in his coat pockets, his posture comfortable and settled, like a man returning home after a long and sordid journey.

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Rinaldo stood tall against the night, a lantern in hand.

“There you are!” he called out. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost. I was about to go searching for you, haha!”

“We were just taking our sweet time,” Hugo said.

“Of course, of course,” Rinaldo said with a chuckle. “Well, come on in, it’s chilly, and supper’s almost ready. Gisella’s been waiting for you both.”

At the mention of Gisella, Hugo’s pace quickened. Hildebrand tried to follow, her feet heavy and knees creaking, but as usual, he left her behind, leaving her chasing after his shadow. A bitter, knowing “Hah” escaped her mouth.

She stood at the boundary between the frigid night and the warm home. Hildebrand could smell the freshly baked bread cooling on a table and the rich aroma of the main course still roasting in the oven. She heard loving admonishments and the laughter that followed. The air, heavy with warmth, invited her in. It was just three steps up. Even though bright lights illuminated the path forward, she had cold feet.

“Don’t just stand there,” Rinaldo said. The light illuminated his warm, smiling face. It dispelled the shadows of the broken man Hildebrand had once known. His gentle smile wasn’t the precisely measured and calibrated mechanism she had become accustomed to. And his eyes, once haunted by a vast emptiness, were replete with life. But his words were heavy now, just as they had always been. “Come in.” He offered a rugged hand. It was just as steady and comfortable as she remembered.