>>5293020>>5293031>>5293081>>5293124>>5293151>>5293324>>5293328“I sold myself into slavery for the sake of a married woman.”
Gully nearly stumbles. She catches herself just at the last second, staring at you as if you’d grown an extra head. “What?”
You give a self-depreciating smile. There’s bitterness in it, but it’s more rueful than it’s ever been in the last thirteen years. The weight on your shoulders is light, almost completely gone. Somehow. “Well, the main reason was my godson’s medical treatment. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that his mom wasn’t a driving factor.”
Somehow, the look on her face becomes even more incredulous. But the best part? It’s snapped her out of her funk with how much it isn’t a non-sequitur to her confession. She shared her past. It’s only fair that you share yours as well.
And beyond Stolze, smug prick as he is, there’d be at least another person who knows that your act went beyond paternal affection for Tom. Or at least was another driving reason behind it.
“But I’ll get serious.” You shift in your seat, settling into a more comfortable position. As the sun disappears, and the sky opens to a sea of stars, a story gathers on the tip of your tongue. “Why don’t you pull up a seat, Gully? Wouldn’t want you standing on my account.”
She does so, grabbing a nearby stool with an intense frown of concentration. “Your godson?”
“One thing at a time, but…yeah. My godson.”
The sun disappears well over Bracken Plaza, the edge of the island and the very horizon itself as you begin to share your story. “About twenty years ago, a born-and-raised youth of Babylonia took the MCAT and got accepted into the city’s engineering program. His roommate at the time was a young man named Jean Barbet. They would become best friends, and the two rising stars of the program.”
Gully quirks a faint smile. “Referring to yourself in the third person?”
If you roll your eyes any harder, they’d have fallen out of your skull. “Who said it was me? Besides, you did it during your story.”
“Not for too long.”
That gets a genuine laugh out of you. “Fine, fine, that’s fair enough.”
Twilight cedes to night as you sketch out the years of your youth. Three years of apprenticeship, three more of semi-independent journeymen working on behalf of the school and guild. And while you aren’t one to toot your own horn, you’d be underselling how good the both of you were. Projects came and went, designs drafted and ratified – most of the students get hired out of the program, but the two of you could’ve had any pick of jobs.
“Caroline…” you pause, struggling to find the right words. It’s…difficult. Describing her in a way that doesn’t come off as obsessive. “Have you ever been in love, Gully?”
“…no,” she says, and with deliberate consideration. Her eyes are narrow, but her tone is light. “I can’t say I have.”
(cont.)
