AT HIS MERCY BOOK TWO!!
Something about being on your own in a house where you lived with a person was depressing, it was draining. There was this stillness, this silence that was almost deafening, it weighed so heavily on Yalda's chest she could breathe properly.
For three months, she had lived inside that stillness. After the first few weeks of Alexander's passing, people stopped coming, they stopped coming to check up on her, stopped coming to pass their condolences, stopped coming to try to convince her to leave and go somewhere else. She'd almost gotten used to the silence and the monotonous routine that drained her day by day.
Most mornings began the same way; she'd wake before dawn, her body would be restless, her mind would be foggy, and her heart would be aching so much. Sometimes she’d reach for the other side of the bed, forgetting that it wouldn't be warm.
Loki would curl against her chest as if trying to fill the space Alexander left behind, but she could tell that Loki was also missing him. At times he'd curl on his side of his bed for hours, or he'd go to his study and curl on his seat. It was almost a ritual for Loki; he'd keep her company after she fed him, and then he'd go lie in spots Alexander usually spent time.
She'd try to get him to move but he wouldn't, and then she eventually stopped trying.
"I miss him too, Loki." She'd told him quietly. "Everyday."
The first month after his death, people came and went like waves. She had smiled, nodded, even thanked them when they encouraged her to be strong and not let Alexander's passing weigh too much on her.
Even Maya Blackwood had stopped by, she had awkwardly sat for a couple of minutes before she brought herself to speak.
"He loved you." She had said.
And Yalda nodded, she knew that, she knew that very well and she didn't care if Maya was only just accepting it.
"I know." She replied.
Silence stretched again for a moment before Maya spoke once more.
"And I loved him." She said quietly, almost like she was only just realizing it. "It wasn't just about his money. He was a good person."
Yalda hadn't responded, she hadn't known what else to say to her so she'd simply held back her tears till Maya left, and then she rushed to the bathroom and broke down, gripping the sink tightly as she tried to catch her breath.
By the second month, she didn't have to pretend to be strong in front of people. She'd shut the world out and was losing her mind at the fact that Alexander's cologne was beginning to fade away; the penthouse no longer smelled of him that much, and it was unsettling her so much, scaring her even. The last of his presence was fading and she could do nothing about it.
Sometimes, she tried to busy herself, she trued to convince herself she was healing; she joined an online grief support group but never turned on her camera. She went to the market once, only to abandon her basket halfway and rush back home when her body started trembling and shaking intensely, she realized she was having a breakdown. She'd cried breathlessly for hours on getting home before finally falling asleep.
By the third night, nothing smelled of Alexander anymore, not the linens, or the curtains, not even his seat in his study. She'd tried desperately to stop the fading by spraying his perfumes around but it wasn't the same and she knew it.
She cried till she almost passed out the day she accepted that Alexander was truly gone, and all she had now were memories.
That evening, she was lying in bed when her phone rang, she didn't answer thinking it might be one of Alexander's lawyers again, or the press or someoje she didn't want to talk to. The ringing stopped and she blew out a heavy breath, but then it began to ring again and she had no choice but to reach out and pick it up.
And the name displayed on her screen made her breath falter: Ioannis.
She picked up.
“Hello?” she said quietly, her voice barely sounded at all. Her throat suddenly felt too tight.
“Yalda.” he said on his all too familiar voice. “I wasn’t sure if you’d answer.”
She swallowed hard, forcing the lump down her throat. She hadn’t heard his voice in months, and she hadn't seen him since the funeral. He hadn't reached out, and neither had she, she had considered calling him but it was almost too shameful; she'd left him to go to Alexander, and then she was only calling because Alexander was gone.
“I…I didn’t think you’d call.” She said quietly.
There was a pause, a moment of silence, but she could hear him breathing slowly while she held her own breath.
“I wanted to give you time,” he said at last. “You needed time to grieve and heal.”
She didn't know how to respond. He thought she'd been grieving and healing but he had no idea she'd only been grieving, it was almost like the grief became heavy with every passing day. Tears gathered in her eyes all too quickly, and they spilled as she blinked.
"How are you doing, Yalda?" He asked her, and she knew he wasn't asking for lies or the practiced lines she'd given to everyone who asked how she was doing.
She let out a shuddering breath and it was like her chest was completely raw. Like something had been ripped out of it and it was just open and raw.
“I’m…. not doing very well,” she admitted finally.
“I know,” Ioannis replied softly. “I can hear it.”
He didn’t ask questions more questions, didn’t try to comfort her with cliche lines. He simply listened as she began breathing heavily, she was crying quietly now.
“It's so quiet here,” she croaked. "So empty."
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked her.
And she shook her head. What could she possibly do but mope?
"I don't know." She replied.
“Alright then.” His tone shifted slightly, still calm but more certain. “Pack a bag.”
We hadn't expected that.
“What?”
“My jet will come for you at dawn.” He clarified. "It'll bring you to Greece."
To him....
Tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped them off.
"I don't want to leave him." She cried quietly.
"I know. You're not leaving him, you're just getting some air." He told her. "Do you still trust me?"
She did, she had no reason not to. So she forced herself to speak.
"I do."
"Then listen to me." He said. "Wake up early tomorrow, pack a bag, and come back to me."
The silence that followed stretched long. She didn't dare look around the room because everything in it that belong to Alexander would only make her want to stay.
But Yalda knew herself well enough, she knew she'd never done well on her own; she always needed someone to guide her, and ioannis was doing just that.
“Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”
The sound of his breath on the line softened, like relief. “Good. Try to get some sle
ep now.” he said. "Alright?"
She nodded once more.
"Alright."
"Goodnight Yalda."
"Goodnight."
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