It could've been hours or it could've been days that Melchior sat by Moritz and Wendla's graves. He could've sworn that they were there with him, encouraging him to go on and yet there he sat, paralyzed with grief. He knew it was irrational but Melchior felt if he just sat there then they would appear again. "Enough" he said to himself, he should be getting home. All the brooding in the world would never bring them back. His misdeeds were permanent and irreplaceable. As he exited the graveyard, Melchior no long cared where his feet stepped in, he just wanted to sleep in his bed.
His parents were happy to see him. He managed to shrewdly explain that he was allowed to leave the reformatory because of good behavior. It didn't register that he did something illegal by leaving. All he cared about was getting home to Wendla before it was too late. Melchior's dad saw him first. He gave him a hug and gruffly said he was glad that his son had returned. This was the most emotion Herman had shown in a very long time towards his adolescent son. His mother's face light up to see her son and she gave him a big hug. He could see the tears forming in her eyes. She said she would make him his favorite meal. Melchior didn't have the heart to say that he had no appetite. Fanny didn't want to share the news that Wendla had died, but the look on her son's face told her that he knew. He must've stopped by the graveyard before coming home.
Melchior greeted them but not as warmly, managing to limply hug each of his parents back. He thanked his mother for the offer, but Melchior just wanted to sleep. His parents had let him go upstairs with the promise that they had a lot to discuss in the morning. Melchior was exhausted and he mercifully fell asleep as soon as his brown curls hit the pillow.
His mother made a hearty breakfast when he woke up. Melchior filled his plate, but pushed food around for the entire meal. He could not bring himself to eat. He knew it was irrational because not eating wouldn't bring them back but he just couldn't do it. He wonderd about what the town minister would say about Wendla. Was it simply all part of "God's Plan" that she die, sheltered and uninformed? If that was the case, then why was she even created? More to the point, why was Melchior created, if he were to kill her?
Melchior vaguely registered that his mother was still talking. He returned his thoughts to his mother's voice. Melchior's father was at work, but his mother shared that they hired a tutor so he could complete his studies. Fanny said that they were outcasts in the town. They planned to move once Melchior and his brother finished their studies. Upon learning what Melchior did to young Wendla, the townspeople took great pains to avoid the Gabor family. Mr. Gabor planned to move to Munich and start his business there. The boys could attend university there.
The family moved within the next spring. Both Melchior and his brother finished their studies in record time. They were exceptionally intelligent. The Gabor family business prospered in Munich. Melchior was still bereaved, but the change of scenery helped his mood considerably. He blamed himself for Wendla's death. He knew that sharing their love could result in a baby but he didn't think that the consequences would happen to them. He let his hormones take over, instead of his brain. But life went on. Melchior had his own apartment and lived independently. He finished university, with an emphasis in journalism.
His brother had married and the wife was expecting their first child. Melchior didn't feel bad about leaving his aging parents. He informed the elderly Gabors that he was moving to America. Hermann and Fanny were sad to see him go, but they knew it was the only way he could heal from the years of angst that he felt. No matter what they said they knew that Melchior still felt responsible for his young friend's tragic deaths and it pained them to see their son suffer.
Melchior took a steamship and landed in Ellis Island. The journey was very long and overwhelming. Melchior didn't have the foresight to learn the language before departing Germany. He stood in lines for days, vaguely listening to all the immigrant's noise. Finally, Melchior was cleared and settled in Little Germany. People were kind, the girls were pretty, but Melchior preferred to live alone still brooding about his lost love.
He obtained a job working with the New York Times. Melchior picked up English quickly but he still had a thick German accent. Melchior was most critical of the bourgeois society that was prevalent even in America. People enjoyed his columns and insights and told him often. This gave him no validation. On summer evenings, he would walk to Tompkins Square Park and watch the children run around. Melchior's mind would drift to the child that he and Wendla would've had. He could imagine her chasing after their little boy in the park, her stomach rounding with their second child. Or maybe they would've had a little girl, who was the carbon copy of her mother. Melchior knew he shouldn't be punishing himself further with what the future would've been like, but he loved her too much to move on.
If only he had gotten Ilse's letter in time. Then they would've been together. Melchior could've rescued Wendla from her mother. He had money saved up. They would flee to America, just like he did by himself. It wouldn't be an easy journey, especially with her being so pregnant but they were young and in love. It would've worked. Seasons changed, but he still felt her, when it rained and his heartbeat, or maybe hers, throbbed in his ears. Wendla was haunted him, but he could deal with that. The rain was a tangible sign that Wendla was still with him, and he loved her fiercely, too fiercely to move on.