Day 5
Part 6
His hand, like so much vapor, moves back up through the case.
"Edward, you've heard without listening. Now, tell me true: How do you know my name?"
"You told me," he says. Of course she did.
She's beside him now. Shakes her head. Slowly. Carefully. "No, I never told you my name.
"Edward, I only told you your own."
Rested on velvet, a diary, inscription gold leaf fallen away, the name but a word worn through: Edward. Its bedfellow, a death certificate, for Edward Jasper Anthony Whitlock.
"I remember."
"Every year," she sighs out, hands clasps to her chest in awe. Praise. "Every May, you'd return. I tried ... I tried so hard to get you to remember."
Regret hollows him. "I never should have left you." She waves that off.
"I waited."
"I know."
"I waited for you." She beams. "That first time, when you returned, I was so glad just to see you again. I ran up and embraced you. But you didn't remember and fled. The next year, I tried to remind you but you couldn't accept it. Every year, no matter what I said, you left all the same. I tried so many ways. So many years.
"But you never remembered. More stars on the flags, electricity going in, cars, that all stuck… but not me. Every time you'd forget... you, yourself... me." She gulps, a sob and happy tears. "I thought you'd maybe never rem-remember me, because we only knew each other f-five days."
He moves to her, takes her face in his hands, and holding her, kisses the words, kisses her name into her mouth. "I fell in love with you twice in less time."
Then, arm in arm, they leave the building, cross the parade grounds, and as street lamps stutter on at the naked break from day, step over the fort's boundary, and disappear.