“I miss my parents,” I say then fall silent.
She doesn’t fill the space with useless words, letting me say what I need in my own time. It opens up my heart and allow me to be sad. She isn’t expecting a smile or pleasantness. Throat clogged with both pain and gratitude for her quiet presence, I lift my gaze to my friend’s eyes. They’re shining with kindness and understanding and I nod, more to myself than to her. I give myself permission to hurt and it’s the most liberating I’ve ever felt.
“They would have loved this place. My mum was obsessed with those tiny dolphins statues from the nineties. She would have put them everywhere. It would have been awful.”
Mina smiles before shaking her head. “Now I understand why you have these hideous stickers everywhere.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “They’re so ugly. But they remind me of her, you know.”
“Of course. And your dad?”
“He loved her as much as a man in my world can love his arranged wife,” I tell her. My mother was a beautiful and voluptuous woman, but most importantly, she was smart and wanted what was best for the family. She used to say that love came in many forms, and thatIwas the love of her life. “I think they were more friends and partners than lovers, but it worked for them. They showed up as a united front. That was their strength and their mistake. They died in a shootout.”
“I’m so sorry, Loulou.”
She hugs me again, in silence. It heals me more than anything I’ve ever experienced before. The quiet acceptance soothes my sorrow. The friendly touch wraps my grief in a delicate blanket, like a kid who needs to be held when they cry.
“You know,” Mina starts. “I’ve heard Japanese people do ‘forest-bathing’ to reduce stress and release painful emotions.”
“Like hug trees?”
“Kind of. It’s just being in nature and letting yourself disconnect from the world to reconnect to your senses, mindfully walking and taking your time.”
I glance behind us at the forest outside. It’s thick and lush green, inviting despite the cold October air. The sky is grey but not menacing, perfect for a stroll through the canopy of trees, listening to my own breath and focusing on the present moment. With silent, green witnesses who will hold my hateful secrets, I can let myself be sad, be hurt, grieve a love I didn’t get to enjoy long enough, and long for one to last a lifetime.
“It’s a great idea, Mina. Thank you for… For… Thank you.” The smile I give her is small but it’s a real one. I’m so grateful for what she just provided. It might be small but to me, it means everything.
“I’m your friend, Lucie. I’m here for the good and the bad days.”
She disappears in the kitchen, metal pots clanking as she lays everything on the counter for our meal. “Don’t stay out too long, sun will go down soon,” she says before I walk back to my room.
Wrapped up in a red wool sweater over the thin cami and joggers I wore today, paired with a scarf and a sleeveless puff jacket, I slide my sneakers on and step outside.
The wooden stairs creak as I descend towards the gravel path leading to the main street, but instead of continuing on, I veer left. The low afternoon sun disappears behind the tall trees and I shiver as the temperature seems to drop a few degrees.
I take slow, measured steps, noticing when the ground meets my heels, arch of the foot and toes. If I pass a tree, I let my hands glide against the rough bark. The smell in the deep forest is earthy, damp soil mixing with the fresh plants all around me. It’slayered, and I pause to close my eyes and inhale deeply, focusing on each distinct aroma.
Mina was right, this is exactly what I needed.
Branches split in the distance and I snap my eyes open, a shadow shifting on my right. My limbs freeze and I wait for the boogeyman to come out from behind the trees and catch me. I scream when a black bird takes flight just a few steps away from me. I press a hand to my heart, willing it to slow. My stomach is in knots. Every breath is laboured and doesn’t give me any of the oxygen I crave. Flying up to the top branch of a nearby tree, the raven lands and croaks as if mocking me. Laughter erupts from my chest. Of course, there are animals in the middle of a Scottish forest. I knew that.
Deciding I’ve had enough adventures and near heart attacks for a day, I turn around to take the path back to the house.
And gasp.
He’s here.
In the middle of the forest trail stands my stalker. Tall and all dressed in back, his face is covered by the same helmet that has haunted my dreams since the night of the party. He stands out against the green backdrop. His body is strong, legs slightly apart as if he’s waiting to pounce.
My breaths burst in and out, and I lick my lips, suddenly parched.
He’s not wearing any coat, his arms straining against the cotton of his dark tee-shirt, as though the cold doesn’t affect him. Fear makes me dizzy.
“How did you find me?” I ask, voice wavering.
The helmet tilts to the side. “Did you really think blocking me would stop me?”
No, I didn’t. And if I’m honest with myself, I hoped it wouldn’t. I’ve grown addicted to his presence, to the comfort he provides.
