No Way Back for Us

I remained quiet, as he wished.

Before selling the house and being transferred to the border defense, I still went to Diana's art exhibition.

It was a sudden impulse.

Her gentle face was projected onto the giant screen in the city center square; the exhibition was titled "The Key to the Soul."

Those were words we often used in letters to each other during our youth.

They were a girl's purest aspirations.

They were a friend's most sincere blessings.

With a final, self-destructive nostalgia.

I armed myself completely, stepping into the venue like a mouse spying on someone else's happiness.

Until I saw the painting, "The Key to the Soul."

It depicted two intertwined bodies.

I had kissed the mole on the man's back countless times.

The woman's fingertips crumpled the sheets; the background was a bed with light green sheets and outside the window were blooming magnolias.

Those were the varieties I had personally chosen.

The pink blossoms swayed in the breeze, serenely beautiful.

That was my home.

It was also where she and Gayle first made love.

So the soul belonged to her and the key to her belonged to Gayle.

An overwhelming feeling of nausea surged up.

I vomited.

The commotion startled the two people who were greeting guests.

A soft voice sounded in my ear, "Comrade, are you alright?"

The heart-shaped brooch on her chest dazzled me, perfectly matching the key-shaped one on the man's cufflink.

I abruptly ripped the brooch off and slashed at the canvas.

The sound of the canvas tearing shocked everyone; gasps filled the room.

In the chaos, security pinned me to the ground.

My cheek was pressed against the cold floor while the man, holding the sobbing woman, stared at me like I was a sewer rat.

"Call the police," he said.

I laughed, my laughter growing louder and louder.

The crowd recoiled in fright.

Because the amount involved exceeded thousand dollars, I was sentenced to three years in prison, plus compensation for material losses and emotional distress.

I attempted suicide several times in prison, but was rescued each time.

A year later, I was released on parole for good behavior, penniless.

But I had come to understand many things.

When the car arrived at its destination, Diana went to touch up her makeup.

Gayle stood beside me, apologizing softly, "I'm sorry."

"We were wrong back then. I'll remind Diana to be more mindful of her behavior in the future."

I raised an eyebrow. He had never bowed his head to me before. But now he apologized immediately.

I looked at him, puzzled. "No need. You two are husband and wife.”

“I just saw you and it reminded me of that past event. I didn't mean anything by it." 

A flicker of pain crossed the man's eyes. I didn't understand and I didn't care to delve into it.

Luckily, Diana returned. She seemed to have forgotten everything that happened in the car.

"The three of us used to pool our money for spicy tacos. Today we're going to have a blast."

The man disagreed. "Geneva was with us back then. She has a bad stomach and can't eat spicy food. How could you forget?"

"It's okay. My stomach is fine now." 

Years of recuperation had long since restored my body and mind to their best condition.

My phone suddenly rang.

The word "Husband" on the screen was particularly eye-catching.

I answered the phone.

The man’s clear voice sounded a bit aggrieved.

“Honey, taking this kid out on camera is way harder than leading troops. You’ll probably say I’ve lost weight when you get back.”

In the background, a little boy piped up, “No! Mommy, there was an auntie who asked Daddy for his contact info today and they chatted for a long time…”

“You little rascal, trying to set your dad up? That was a reporter interviewing me!”

Listening to the commotion on the other end of the phone, I couldn't help but smile.

Looking up, I saw the mall's large screen playing the man's interview footage; he looked dashing in his military uniform.

The little guy beside him had his eyes darting around, as cute as a New Year's picture doll.

After chatting for a few more minutes, I hung up and took a picture of the screen.

After sending it, I realized the two people beside me were frozen in place.

"Geneva, ​​you're married?"