Chapter 95

Belle stared intently out the window of her room at the hotel in Puerto Rico. Outside, the horizon resembled a motionless painting: the calm sea and the sunset painting the sky in warm tones that, in contrast, failed to warm her soul. Sadness was evident on her face, and though her posture tried to appear serene, her eyes spoke of a pain she could not hide.
The door opened softly, and Keylef entered with firm but silent steps. He found her gazing at the view, lost in her thoughts, and hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should interrupt her. Finally, he decided to move closer, placing a firm yet comforting hand on her shoulder. Belle flinched and looked at him, quickly replacing her melancholic expression with a more serious one.
"How’s César’s diagnosis?" she asked, striving to sound calm. "Is he more stable now?"
Keylef sighed and nodded slowly.
"All the survivors are injured, but there are no deaths. It’s been something of a miracle."
Belle closed her eyes and took a deep breath, relieved by the news. But before she could say anything, Keylef added:
"You're not asking me the most important thing."
Belle looked at him in silence, almost daring him to continue. Keylef pressed his lips together and, after a pause, said:
"He doesn’t remember you, Belle. He remembers me, Belladonna, but only up to a few months before the accident. Everything else is gone. They’ll run more tests, but there’s no timeline for him to regain his memory."
Belle turned her gaze back to the window. Her expression didn’t change, as though those words hadn’t affected her at all.
"At least he’s alive. That’s what matters." Her voice was barely a whisper.
Keylef frowned, frustrated by the indifference Belle seemed to show.
"Is that all you’re going to say? Aren’t you going to do anything to help him? You should be with him, try to help him regain his memory. Show him photos from before you dyed your hair, remind him what you mean to him."
Belle turned to face him, her expression now lifeless, almost devoid of emotion.
"Do you really think it’s best to overwhelm him with questions and memories after what he’s been through? He’s endured hunger, cold, and the terror of thinking he’d never be found. His recovery comes first. I don’t care if he doesn’t remember me right now."
Keylef watched her with a mixture of disbelief and sadness.
"And what if he never remembers you?" he asked quietly.
Belle lowered her gaze. For a few seconds that felt eternal, she said nothing. Finally, she replied:
"Then it’ll be for the best. I’ve decided to change the course of my life. Somehow, I always felt our paths would part sooner or later."
"What kind of nonsense is that? César needs to know the truth!" Keylef insisted, though deep down he knew his words were more of an excuse than a genuine desire.
Belle stared at him, her eyes filled with determination.
"Does he really need to know? I’m not like Belladonna, and I don’t want to be compared to her. I want to help my grandfather out of his situation. He’s the only person I want in my life now."
Keylef felt a knot in his stomach. He loved Belle, and hearing her give up, deciding to walk away from César, brought him guilty relief. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.
"So… you won’t do anything to make him remember you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Belle nodded slowly.
"I decided the moment he had the accident. I don’t want to belong to that world. And if César is truly part of it, we could never be together."
Keylef sighed, resigned.
"Alright. I’ll respect your decision. But promise me, if you ever feel alone, you’ll call me."
Belle hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"I’ll go back to the United States first, if you don’t mind."
"Don’t you want me to go with you?" Keylef offered, though his voice sounded broken.
"I’d feel more at ease if you stayed here with your brother. Right now, I think he needs you."
Keylef clenched his fists and finally nodded. He knew this was their goodbye, even if she didn’t say it out loud.
"Alright."
Belle stepped closer and took his hand, squeezing it lightly as she gave him an almost imperceptible smile. Keylef couldn’t help but notice how the spark of sweetness that once defined her had extinguished.
"Thank you, Keylef. Take care of César and yourself."
And with those words, Belle picked up her bag and left the room. Keylef remained silent, feeling that the elitism and horrors that had surrounded Belle had finally broken her. But as he watched her walk away, he also felt a somber hope: perhaps now, he could have a place in her life.