Not for Tony, exactly. Or not just for Tony. For the end of something familiar. For the closing of a chapter. For the strange grief that came with getting what she'd asked for and realizing that saying goodbye hurt no matter what.
She cried for the time they'd spent together. For the child they'd made who would grow up with separated parents. For the loss of even the illusion of a partnership.
And underneath it all, relief. Sweet, guilty relief that she was finally, truly free.
The house phone rang, cutting through her tears.
Tula stared at it, confused. She'd never had a phone before. She'd seen them in movies, knew the basic concept, but actually answering one felt foreign.
It kept ringing.
She wiped her eyes and picked up the receiver, holding it to her ear the way she'd seen people do in films. "Hello?"
"Tula?" Wonder's voice sounded sweeter than ever. "Are you okay? You sound upset."
"I'm—" Tula's voice broke. "Tony left."
"Left? What do you mean left?"
"He moved out. Last night, I guess. While I was sleeping." The words tumbled out between sniffles. "He left a note. He's staying in Kaia and William's spare bedroom for now. He couldn't—he said it was too painful to stay here." She sniffled. "I wanted to end things amicably with him and without making a big fuss about it, so I asked him to sleep in the other room until we eased into the separation, but he didn't want to ease into it. He wanted to end it."
Wonder was silent for a long moment. "So, you wanted him to leave?"
"Yeah, eventually. But not without saying goodbye." Tula wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I don't know why I'm crying. This is what I wanted. I told him we couldn't be together anymore. I should be relieved."
"Are you?"
"Yes. But also—" Tula struggled to articulate the tangle of emotions. "I'm sad too. Is that stupid? Can you be relieved and sad at the same time?"
"Of course you can. The end of a relationship is hard, even when it's the right thing to do. You're allowed to grieve it."
"It feels stupid to grieve something I chose to end."
"It's not stupid. It's natural." Wonder paused. "I'm coming over and taking you to get a cellphone. You need a proper entry into the modern world. I'll be there in ten minutes or less. Don't argue."
The line went dead.
Tula set the receiver back in its cradle and looked around the empty kitchen. She was hungry but had no idea how to make herself breakfast.
She had forgotten even the simple things she'd known how to prepare in her mother's kitchen, and given that it was thousands of years ago, she wouldn't even know what the ingredients looked like nowadays, or how to operate a stove.
She'd been hoping Tony would make her breakfast.
The realization made her laugh through her tears. She was an ancient immortal who'd lived for thousands of years, and she was helpless in her own kitchen.
Tula managed to make herself tea using the electric kettle. At least she knew how to do that.
By the time Wonder knocked on the door, Tula felt more composed. The tears had stopped, though her eyes were probably red and puffy. Not a big deal for an immortal. They would be fine in a minute or two.
Wonder took one look at her and pulled her into a fierce hug.
They stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around each other, and Tula felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. This was what she'd missed most during those five thousand years, the physical affection from someone who loved her without conditions or complications.
"I've got you," Wonder murmured. "You're going to be okay."
"Of course, I'm going to be okay." Tula pulled back, managing a watery smile. "I'm just being hormonal."
"You're being normal." Wonder studied her face. "Have you eaten?"
