Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains Ralph had not drawn the night before. Silvia started, temporarily puzzled by the strange weight of a hand around her waist and the heat of another body next to hers.Then recollection flooded in—the hospital, the argument with Rebecca, and Ralph's words. Her fingers found the wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand, the metal warm against her skin.She turned carefully, not wanting to wake him, and allowed herself the luxury of simply watching him sleep. As he slept, his countenance softened, and the usual scowl between his eyebrows disappeared. This was a Ralph that few individuals ever saw—vulnerable, unguarded.As if he sensed her stare, his eyes opened, heavy with sleep before focusing on her face. A slow smile spread across his face, and he was transformed."Not a dream, then," he grumbled, voice rough with sleep.Silvia smiled again at him. "Not a dream."His hand rose to trace her cheek, thumb drawing the line of her lo
SwitzerlandThe Swiss Alps glinted white under a brilliant blue sky, their snow-powdered tops visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass at the rehab center. Silvia sat beside her mother's wheelchair, a heavy shawl clutched around her mother's shoulders despite the warmth of the sunroom."The Doctor says you can try the garden stroll tomorrow," Silvia told her mother, straightening out the blanket across her mother's lap. "Provided that the weather is good enough."Deep brown eyes shone with curiosity at the prospect, and her mother nodded. "I'd like that," she said. "I've been admiring those roses since yesterday myself." Her voice was firmer than it had been for years, her complexion rosier, with flushed cheeks that bore no relation to sickness."Six laps yesterday," Ralph's booming voice declared as he entered the sunroom with a tray carrying three steaming cups. "Your therapist was impressed."She smiled at him and looked up as he handed her a mug of hot chocolate. There was a
Two Years LaterThe estate was transformed, bursting with life and filled with spring blooms. The gardens themselves were redesigned from their once stiff formality to one of ease and hospitality. Intoxicating in the warm afternoon sun, the sweet, strong fragrance of lilacs mixed with the zesty notes of citrus blossoms.Climbing roses gracefully draped over the pergola, creating an enchanting canopy of blooms, and the once meticulously manicured lawn was dotted with wildflowers.Silvia was at the kitchen window, watching as her mother proceeded steadily along the garden beds, a large hat shielding her from the sun. Theresa paused and stooped, deadheading a flower or moving a stake, her movements purposeful but more energetic than they had been before.Just days ago, she had once more been in the hospital's care just for a check-up.Now living in the new guest residence on the Spade Mansion, she passed the days tending to the gardens because they provided her a sense of purpose."She's
A few days later The ribbon-cutting day was bright, but the sun did not dissipate the sudden feel of gloom that had fallen upon their home. As Silvia prepared in their bedroom, she eyed the dark blue dress hanging in the wardrobe; it was neither work nor casual wear, suitable for the day's events. Ralph had risen earlier than she, the side of the bed he had occupied being cold when she awoke, sending a shiver through her, amplifying her unease.She found him at his study desk, the envelope of the letter in front of him open like a raw wound on the polished wood. His brow was creased, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. He did not look up when she entered, his eyes steadily focused on a page covered in fine, script handwriting.She was reading them quietly, not wanting to disturb him.Torn between the wish to relieve him and the horror of the words he read, Silvia paused, her heart heavy. The hush enveloped them like a funeral shroud. The revelations in those documents left
The proceedings passed smoothly. Silvia spoke first, defining the mission of the foundation and the center's proposed programs. She then turned the podium over to Ralph, squeezing his arm as they traded places at the podium.He commenced speaking with a practiced ease, loud, and confident, thanking the donors and citing major sponsors. For a fleeting moment, Silvia believed he might survive it and emerge in one piece.His gaze then landed on Burke once more, and he hesitated."This foundation," he started, his tone suddenly less assured, "was formed in order to assist others who are caught in problems they are no longer able to deal with."He stopped, gasping. Silvia held herself ready to step in if need be, but Ralph regained himself."During my childhood," he continued, diverting from the text, "I believed there existed some suffering that one could not evade—that there existed prisons which had no doors. It is the purpose of the Ralph Foundation to render this a lie."A murmur of re
Silvia found Ralph standing alone at the rear border of the estate, under a cluster of oaks. His back arched, shoulders hunched from unseen weights, as he stared out into nothing in particular, lost in thoughts that seemed to drift like clouds across the sky.She made her approach, deliberately rustling the fallen leaves beneath her feet, each crunch announcing her presence, ensuring he would sense her coming before she reached him." I'm fine," he said before she could utter a word, never even turning his head."No, you're not," she said softly. "You don't have to be."The leaves whispered above, creating mottled patterns on Ralph's face as he finally looked around. His public persona had worn off, and something vulnerable and wounded had been revealed underneath."We're expected at the reception," he told her, his tone firm, though strained. "We have to go back."Silvia nodded her head. "I texted your secretary. She can handle it."She took a deliberate step closer, her hand outstret
Silvia leaned forward, her other hand on his chest so that she could sense the thumping of his heart. "That is what you are doing now, though," she told him. "Each child who is treated there, whose family is assisted there—you're saving that boy over and over." Ralph's hand went up to rest over hers, grasping it tightly against his chest as if grounding himself. "It doesn't seem like enough." "It never will." Silvia agreed. "That is the very reason we persist. We continue building. We struggle on." "We," he said. "Yes, we," Silvia confirmed right away. "Your wars are mine now. Remember?" There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I made the same promises, I believe." "For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer." She had inserted the last one herself, but it had sounded necessary—a recognition that their journey would have its darkness as well as its light. Ralph breathed deep, his breathing unsteady. "I don't know how I can rationalize any of it," he said. "My mother wa
Silvia woke up to Ralph’s nose buried in her neck. With a small laugh, she squirmed underneath him, warmth still lingering from sleep. “Where are you going?” Ralph tutted and tightened his arms around her.She blinked once, then again, realizing his belt buckle was digging slightly into her hip. She glanced down. He was wearing dark slacks and a tucked shirt, his cufflinks already fastened. His tie hung loose around his neck like an afterthought. Ralph was fully dressed. Of course, he was. It was so like him to rise early, get ready, and then come back to bed to hold her one last time.She had woken up in his bed more times than she could count, and the times she had in the recent days were so light and happy that she could nearly forget what it had been like, all those months ago, to wake up here sore and tense, with his sharp words still ringing in her ears.The first two times had been filled with insults, pain, and humiliation. She’d been drenched by a gallon of water, drowned
The transformation in Ralph's personality bled over from within the bounds of their love relationship; it crossed over into his business as well. The forceful, resolute businessman Silvia had admired was now waffling, looking for Rebecca's opinion on even the most minor decisions. Rebecca, an opportunist to her core, exploited this flaw, inserting herself into every facet of his business.Boardroom conferences, previously Ralph's domain, now included Rebecca by his side, offering uninvited advice and inserting her opinion at will. The other executives, initially shocked by her ungraceful return and at her assertive nature, learned with little effort that going against her meant going against Ralph, who was still very much incapacitated. A chill of gray spread through the ranks of professionals, complaints regarding Ralph's use of Rebecca muttered behind closed doors.Silvia, relegated to the role of silent onlooker, would occasionally overhear fragments of conversation between Ralp
The silence of Burke's despair and inability weighed heavily on Silvia. Even his fleeting friendship had been a whispered acknowledgment of the truth Rebecca so tirelessly concealed. But beyond their quiet, the party continued, muffled in its glittering pretense. Each metallic laugh, each artificial compliment, was another ripple of despair flooding Silvia's beach, steadily eroding what little remained to her.At a later hour, flushed with triumph and several glasses of champagne, Rebecca nudged her way through a throng of people to Silvia, pilfering glasses from an empty side table. Her eyes flashed with mischievous delight."You know, Silvia," she slurred somewhat, her tone had lost its sharp bite behind its pretended jollity, "you almost look like you belong here—if one squints, and conveniently forgets you're on the payroll." She added a dry laugh at the end of her remark.The lively chatter around her faded into a dull hum, intensified by Rebecca’s probing questions."Maybe you
The ensuing weeks descended into a stifling routine for Silvia. The mansion that had stood as a communal sanctuary now became a gilded cage. Ralph was still blind to everything, his gaze fixed on Rebecca with an unsettling blend of need and adoration.Buoyed by her unchallenged command, Rebecca began exercising her power with greater assertiveness. She would summon Silvia with a snap of her finger, ordering her with a flick of her wrist. The silk garments that once flowed over Silvia now fell over Rebecca's frame, a quiet, visual reminder of the life that was deceptively taken from her.She was meticulously polishing the great piano in the music room one afternoon, a job she used to delight in doing, often humming a little melody to herself as she cleaned when Rebecca and Ralph entered, speaking in soft, conspiratorial tones."The Duniq gala is this week, sweetheart," Rebecca told him, her possessive grip on Ralph's arm. "All has to be perfect. I want Silvia to coordinate all the de
The days folded into weeks, every one a dull routine of polishing, cleaning, and serving. Silvia glided through the great house like a ghost, her footsteps silent on the marble, her gaze down. Ralph's disinterest was a weight to her, a stifling shroud of sadness. Rebecca's insults, once razor-edged and cruel, were now an aching throb, a reminder of her diminished station.In reflective surfaces, she would see snippets of her past: a beautiful perfume bottle on a vanity she once shared with Ralph, a picture on a bookshelf showing them both laughing and untroubled on their wedding day. Every reflection was a splinter from a broken mirror, a painful reminder of her vibrant, happy life snatched away.Hope, obstinate emberlike, smoldered and went out. The unaccommodating impossibility of penetrating Ralph's amnesia, and Rebecca's remorseless coercion, appeared an insuperable obstacle. He often looked at her with polite insensitivity, a foreigner in his house, as Rebecca smiled at him, vi
The sun was setting.The opulent foyer of the mansion was uncomfortable for Silvia. Recently, she'd dusted these sparkling floors as Ralph's maid, not a wife now. The marble was cold on her knees now as she erased an evanescent stain from it, her nostrils flaring at the pungent cleaning agent. The odor was a harsh reminder of a life left behind: one of drudgery and suppressed resentment.Wearing one of the silk robes belonging to Silvia as an act of appropriation, Rebecca was in the doorway, her half glass of champagne in her hand. Her quick, calculating gaze passed over Silvia with unguarded amusement."Seriously, Silvia," Rebecca slurred, mixing her amber drink in its glass, "you're far too sloppy. Mr. Spade is a perfectionist. Don't you recall?"The jab hit close to home. Mr. Spade. The formality was a barrier between them, an obstinate erasing of their closeness. Her knuckles gripped the scrub brush tightly."Yes, Miss Wilson," she replied flatly, anger no longer flowing through
Silvia was assaulted like a slap in the face by the antiseptic smell of the hospital room, utterly contrasting to Ralph's warmth just hours previously. Warmth that was now nothing more than an illusion, an apparition only by way of memory of what was now gone in the screams of skidded tires and breaking glass.Rebecca's grin grew wide, like a snake uncoiling in triumph. Her words oozed syrupy sweetness, every line a planned stab in Silvia's belly: "I told you, sweetheart. He knows whose side is next to him."Silvia found her voice, though her voice shook. "Ralph, it's me. Your wife. Silvia." She took a step closer, her gaze locked with his vacant eyes, hoping for a flicker of recognition, a spark of her beloved husband.He furrowed his brow, a wrinkle of confusion tracing its way across his face. "Wife?" He used the term as though it was unfamiliar, his tone coarse. He looked at Rebecca with a silent questioning gaze. Her other hand gripped his more firmly. "Don't strain yourself, m
Silvia’s heart was in her throat, pounding so hard she could feel it like a tolling bell behind her ribs . The call of doom had come from a hospital nearly an hour away from the mansion, not even the one closest to him. That alone had sent a spike of dread through her chest, but what followed was worse.Ralph had been in an accident. And she had been the last person he communicated with.She barely remembered the ride over. Everything felt like it was moving too fast and too slow at once. The world outside the window had blurred by, all while time inside her seemed frozen. Just this morning, they’d been together. Just this morning, he’d kissed her forehead and said he’d try to come back early. He’d promised. Who knew he wouldn’t even get to the airport let alone, Chicago?Fate was a fickle bitch.The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as she rushed through sliding glass doors, each step heavier than the last.The doctor who met her didn’t sugarcoat the diagnosis, and it hit
Silvia woke up to Ralph’s nose buried in her neck. With a small laugh, she squirmed underneath him, warmth still lingering from sleep. “Where are you going?” Ralph tutted and tightened his arms around her.She blinked once, then again, realizing his belt buckle was digging slightly into her hip. She glanced down. He was wearing dark slacks and a tucked shirt, his cufflinks already fastened. His tie hung loose around his neck like an afterthought. Ralph was fully dressed. Of course, he was. It was so like him to rise early, get ready, and then come back to bed to hold her one last time.She had woken up in his bed more times than she could count, and the times she had in the recent days were so light and happy that she could nearly forget what it had been like, all those months ago, to wake up here sore and tense, with his sharp words still ringing in her ears.The first two times had been filled with insults, pain, and humiliation. She’d been drenched by a gallon of water, drowned
Silvia leaned forward, her other hand on his chest so that she could sense the thumping of his heart. "That is what you are doing now, though," she told him. "Each child who is treated there, whose family is assisted there—you're saving that boy over and over." Ralph's hand went up to rest over hers, grasping it tightly against his chest as if grounding himself. "It doesn't seem like enough." "It never will." Silvia agreed. "That is the very reason we persist. We continue building. We struggle on." "We," he said. "Yes, we," Silvia confirmed right away. "Your wars are mine now. Remember?" There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I made the same promises, I believe." "For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer." She had inserted the last one herself, but it had sounded necessary—a recognition that their journey would have its darkness as well as its light. Ralph breathed deep, his breathing unsteady. "I don't know how I can rationalize any of it," he said. "My mother wa