Upon returning home, Anatoly immediately sensed that Florence's encounter with Freddie had not gone as smoothly as possible. The flat was dim, and there was absolute silence. Anatoly crept down the hallway in a mirrored muteness, then eased the bedroom door open with a gentle movement full of trepidation and uneasiness.
Florence was sitting up in bed, with only a small table lamp to provide light by which to read the book she held. He hair was pulled back in a disorganized knot, stray locks sticking out every which way. Her eyes were fixed on the novel with such an intensity that Anatoly could tell she was having to force it, that her thoughts were in fact lingering on something else, a something else he guessed was Freddie. She seemed vacant, as if her soul was actually somewhere else, trying to decide what she wanted, while her earthly body remained in the bed, attempting to read.
Anatoly stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him, pausing to kiss her on the forehead as he made his way to their bathroom.
"How was your day?" He began, innocently enough, allowing her the chance to make the first move.
Florence did not move, but replied, "Interesting." She seemed to be anchoring herself to composure through the book, compelling herself to remain stoic and unemotional. Anatoly could see this was going to be a painful conversation.
"Mmm? How so?" He continued as he changed out of his clothes into his typical sleepwear.
Florence sighed, a noise she made quite often now. Still not distracted from at least pretending to read, she said in a strained voice, "I went and saw Freddie."
"How did it go?" Anatoly mumbled, his words muffled by the presence of his toothbrush.
"Terrible. His apartment was a mess, Anatoly, and so was he. He was just sitting on the walk out in a chair, fiddling with a chess piece from his best set, while the rest of it lay on the floor in the other room. He said he didn't play chess anymore. When I tried to talk about what's been going on, he shut me down and said I didn't need to apologize and we didn't need to talk about it. He told me I didn't need to apologize for hurting him because he said I didn't. He kept saying that I didn't need to apologize for loving you instead of him." Florence recounted, finally laying her book down on the bed.
Anatoly reemerged, drying his face with a towel, and stopped to lean on the doorframe that separated their bathroom and bedroom.
"Are you sure that you love me instead of him, or do you love me along with him?" Anatoly asked quietly, actually considering the weight of the question.
"Anatoly, I think I'll always love Freddie, in a way at least. Or maybe not love... it's complicated, you know? I feel like I'm always going to care about him, that I'm always going to keep him with me, but you... I love you, Anatoly. Nothing is going to change that, because I'm going to love you until the day I die." She explained and asserted.
Anatoly didn't question the fact a second time, but instead promptly crawled into the bed with her, situating himself so that she could lay her head comfortably on his right shoulder.
"And I will love you always as well." Anatoly returned.
They sat statuesque in the ambient silence for several minutes before Anatoly spoke again.
"I don't honestly know what to tell you about Freddie. He seems to have removed himself in order to respect our boundaries, although I think more for your sake than mine. I think he cares deeply for you, Florence, but I think he also cares in a way he knows you won't ever return anymore, and that's hurting him. He just needs some time to figure out how he's going to handle it, you know?"
"I guess you're right." Florence admitted. seeing the clear truth in his words. "How is it that your words usually fall out of your mouth in mangled heaps but when I desperately need advice they're just... perfect?"
Anatoly grinned. He agreed with that description.
"I couldn't tell you. It's not intentional."
"Well, whatever it is, don't change a thing." Florence ordered, twisting her fingers in his.
"I wasn't planning on it." He returned, smiling as a perfectly ingenious thought billowed up in his mind like a plume of fragrant smoke. "Florence, how would you feel about getting away from the city for awhile, you know, going to the countryside for a couple of months, to just... get away from it all?"
Florence peeked up at him, upside down from her perspective, looking unconvinced.
"Are you serious? You really think that we could just disappear for a couple of months in the English countryside?" She challenged.
"Sure, why couldn't we? I took care of the last of my paperwork today, and anything else they need they can just send out. We can find a little house out where no one knows us or will bother us and we can just enjoy one another." He elaborated, still grinning like a cheshire cat.
Florence too began to smile as she came to the baffling conclusion that Anatoly was in all reality serious about their retreat to the countryside.
"Tolya... I... yes, I think we should." She laughed, her face lighting up like a string of christmas lights.
"Great! But, there is one thing... I have no clue where we would go- I don't really know my way around England." Anatoly said sheepishly.
Florence thought for only a moment, for an idea of monumental brilliance fell into her head quite quickly.
"There was a cottage house we often traveled to with the orphanage I was raised in... I think it was about fifty miles south of here, near the coast. I can ask my Aunt Mag tomorrow if she remembers the name..." She remembered, her brow crinkling as she attempted to gather her reccolations of the location.
"How do you think she would feel if I tagged along when you go to ask her?" Anatoly slid in, wanting to meet the woman to which Florence attributed many, if not most of her happy childhood memories.
Florence was pleasantly surprised at his request, and turned to face him as she voiced the fact.
"I think that she would be thrilled to meet you, actually. We'll walk over there tomorrow afternoon, then." She concluded, readjusting her position again.
Anatoly's cheshire grin continued long after Florence turned out the light and fell asleep on his chest.
He was sure that he had finally found his happy ending.