Devotedly Yours - Final Chapter
Hesdin, 12 September 2006 Dearest Ève, Would it be unreasonable of me to ask you to return to France? It has been some months now since the swarm of journalists returned to the buzzy capital, and I can assure you that the coast is clear. The town has returned to its quiet, peaceful self. And I believe it is high time for you to do so as well. It is with great confidence that I assert how perfect of a place Hesdin would be for you to settle down, find solace, and rebuild your life. It is the only place for you and I. I must admit, a small part of me almost misses the media vans lining every street, following me to the market, the bank, the hairdresser... It was a chaotic time, but it also brought a strange sense of safety. But now, there is a calmness that feels both new and familiar, frigthening and comforting. It is a calmness I think you would appreciate, and perhaps, come to cherish. Selfishly, it is a calmness that I find unnerving at times without you here, without your boisterous laughter to fill up the space. How is your father doing? I have reached out to him multiple times, but my letters have gone unanswered. I was hoping you would share some news regarding his health now that you have reunited with him. I can only imagine the mix of emotions you must be experiencing, but I hope that reconnecting with him brings you some measure of tranquility and understanding of his past deeds. Ève, I truly believe that returning to Hesdin could be the fresh start you need. We are all learning to heal at our own pace, but know that this town will always welcome you back with open arms. Its history is a burden we must both bear, but would sharing it together not be a step in the right direction? You deserve to live a normal life, one that is free from the affairs of the cruelest of men. You deserve to be home. Please consider my heartfelt invitation. Your presence here would mean so much to me, and I am certain that you would find the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Devotedly yours, Colette
Montevideo, 24 September 2006 Dearest Colette, Your words bring me much relief. However, I do not think Hesdin is a home for me anymore. In all honesty, my father is not doing very well. And I fear that his homesickness will take him away much faster than whatever ailment his doctor is struggling to diagnose him with. His thoughts have gotten much darker lately and it is becoming increasingly difficult to try to lift his spirits. I apologize for my silence regarding his health. I know that your intentions are as pure as the white stucco walls of Casapueblo, but a small part of me fears that you may find some satisfaction in my father's declining well-being. He may not be guilty in your eyes anymore, but the trigger was nevertheless pulled by his cowardly hand. Perhaps you spoke the truth in some of your past letters when you claimed to have forgiven him. But I have not. And for my inability to do so, I fear that the only way to purge the rancor from my heart is by staying at his side. By remaining tethered to him. By waiting for him to die. This choice is not without its own anguish. The prospect of returning to Hesdin, of walking its familiar streets, is incredibly tempting. Yet, I am haunted by the belief that I may never be allowed a normal life, regardless of where I am. My father's past casts especially long shadows, ones that have seemingly followed be across the Atlantic Ocean. I am my father's daughter, after all. As such, I am too cowardly to face the good people of Hesdin. Not after everything. I do appreciate your invitation and the hope you have extended to me. Perhaps one day, when all is said and done, I will be able to take that step towards a new beginning. But for now, my place is in Uruguay with my dear father. I hope you will forgive me for this decision. Please know that your letters mean more to me than I can express. They are a lifeline, a reminder that there is still kindness and understanding in the world. Even if my path diverges from the one you wish for me, your support gives me strength. Devotedly yours, Ève
Hesdin, 8 October 2006
Dearest Ève,
I understand your caution vis-à-vis your father's wellness. I understand how protective you are of him. And, while I have no qualms admitting that there is no semblance of love between Jacques and me, there is nothing I wish for more than the tranquility of his spirit.
I will not urge you to reconsider, as I have come to know and love your steadfastness. But if you are to stay in Montevideo indefinitely, please do this one thing for me: find happiness. Find a joy that is not tethered to your father, nor to myself. Make friends, meet someone. Pursue a career that will make you feel whole. Create that normalcy, even if it is on the other side of the world.
Life is too short and precious to be lived in the shadows of the past. You deserve to feel the warmth that you were robbed of. It is rather lucky that your father chose the life of an exile in Uruguay. You ought to allow the Latin American sun to cast a gracious glow on your life, to accept the many blessings promised to you. Embrace the beauty that surrounds you, and allow yourself to be open to new possibilities and connections. There is so much more to you than the ties that bind you to your father’s fate.
Remember, there will always be a place set at my table, should you choose to return. Whether it is to visit or to stay, my door is always open to you. You are a part of my heart, and nothing will ever change that.
Devotedly yours,
Colette
THIS LETTER WAS NEVER RECEIVED -- ÈVE DELANGE PASSED AWAY ON 10 OCTOBER 2006 FROM CARBON MONOXIDE POISONING.