At the Edge of the Woods by Kathryn Bromwich

Author:Kathryn Bromwich
Language: eng
Format: epub

3

Once I have started to breathe more easily, we go for a walk in the woods. Winter, at last, is drawing to a close, and the first signs of spring are starting to become apparent. Héloïse walks through the forest with agility; trees look more vibrant around her, as though she is imbuing them with her own life force. In certain lights, the curious thought occurs to me that she has the lineaments and graceful movements of a deer.

“It really is beautiful,” she says as we approach the pine tree at the top of the pass. Today its branches are a burnished nut-brown, the pine needles dark jade, birds singing from deep within. We sit underneath its shade and watch the peaks around us, the sky lilac and turquoise. “I can see why you’ve come here.”

That night, when we are readying ourselves for bed, I hear a sound I have not heard in many weeks. I signal to Héloïse to remain silent, and as I go up to the door she huddles out of sight in the corner of the burrow.

The knock comes again and I open the door just enough for me to go outside, pulling it almost shut behind me.

“Evening.” Vincenzo leans in to kiss me, and when he straightens up he reveals a bottle he has been hiding behind his back. He looks handsome, his pull magnified by absence.

“I can’t, not tonight,” I say. “I’m sorry.” I mean it.

His smile falters. I see his eyes turn toward the shutters. “Is there someone here?”

“No,” I answer, mindful of keeping my tone relaxed. Not being a natural liar, I revert toward the truth. “I haven’t been feeling well.”

He is not convinced, I can see it, but he assumes an expression of concern. “You do look pale,” he grants, starting to appear genuinely alarmed. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

*

I slowly grow stronger; I cook for Héloïse, demonstrating what I have learned of the ingredients that come from the local soil. I wish to show her my new world in its entirety, for her to understand my life here. I exchange places with her in our room, moving into the burrow so that she can have the bed. Every day, I try to find small ways to atone for the time she spent nurturing me back to life.

We have agreed to avoid being seen together in the village—an abundance of caution perhaps, but we are content, for now, with our solitary arrangement. In the mornings we have a quick breakfast, and every few days I go into town to pick up provisions while Héloïse goes down to the well. We meet back at the cabin and read or walk until lunchtime, when we prepare something together and, if the weather allows, eat outside on the fallen log.

Héloïse seems to have taken to this simple lifestyle, gazing at the forest in bemused wonder, but I know that the novelty will soon start to wear off. Back in Paris, it felt like

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.