25

“I thought so back then already, but I didn’t care. I was glad you didn’t realize it and were wasting your potential right there in my office. But now, with how well we know each other… I couldn’t watch you throw away those last years there. And it would piss me off if you threw them away anywhere else too, so I’d just pull you back to me again and try to use you for my sector. But it would be completely pointless. I couldn’t… I couldn’t properly demand anything from you, nor be strict with you. You know what I’m like. How everything there gets on my nerves. I shout at those idiots from morning till night. Maybe I wouldn’t spare even you in the end. Is that what you want to be part of again?! Could I really yell at you again?!”

During the tense pause, Mishi tried very hard to mirror his serious expression, but in truth she was holding back amusement when she heard that Tay thought she was no longer around for his shouting.

“Yesterday you yelled at me in the kitchen for five minutes just because of the jam,” she reminded him lightly.

And that was the moment Tay lost all his weapons. With the memory of their argument coming back to him, the corners of his mouth spread on their own. He burst into laughter he couldn’t stop.

That surprised Mishi even more. It was the first time she had ever witnessed what Tay looked like when he laughed openly. She had no doubt the wine had done its part, but she never would have expected something so unheard of from Taris.

“But you spread it on there badly on purpose, I saw it! I’ve told you a hundred times that I hate it like that,” Tay commented on yesterday between fits of laughter.

Yet even though he couldn’t immediately rid himself of it, that cheerful boy vanished again as soon as he caught his breath. His manner, however, had noticeably softened. Before Mishi’s eyes, changes were happening in Taris that she had never even imagined.

Still, their conversation was not heading in a better direction.

“I simply wouldn’t be able to create a position for you that would value you enough without me feeling like the biggest bastard in the world,” Tay concluded. “I don’t want you there. I’m sorry.”

…

The brief distraction faded from Mishi as she realized that Tay had already decided everything. There was no point in arguing with him. It also dawned on her that his wish was, in truth, the more reasonable one, even though she didn’t want to admit it aloud. She thought that now there was probably nothing left but to move to some kind of clinic, where she would be at peace and wouldn’t strain herself further.

Disappointed, she topped up both their glasses with wine but didn’t drink. She stared silently at the glasses, Tay’s last four words still echoing in her ears. This was not how she had imagined the end of her marriage. This was not what she had hoped to hear from Tay tonight. It didn’t matter whether he was sending her to a clinic or to Mario. All she perceived was that he wanted her to leave his life.

In the silence, where even the dying fire could no longer be heard and everything around them darkened, the bitter conclusion of the evening slowly settled in.

…

“I don’t want you to think I’m an ungrateful idiot who lied to you. I should’ve told you sooner,” he spoke when he saw her sinking into sorrow. “You’ve done so much for me. I never expected that year to be survivable. I truly didn’t believe we’d manage it… Especially not me.”

Mishi’s attention sharpened. She wondered whether it was the wine playing tricks on her, or whether Tay Taris had really spent the last few minutes talking about himself. That sparked a tiny glimmer of hope in her.

“And if I weren’t ill… what would you want now, Tay?” she asked softly.