Robert, Her Billionaire Widower

This did not make the fantasies go away, however. He would fantasize about the most mundane things such as having lunch with her or watching a movie with her. He would fantasize about giving her a back massage when she was extremely tired after a long day’s work. He had a feeling that he would really like doing that. He had a feeling that he would enjoy being a househusband for her. Perhaps they could travel the world with his money. Perhaps they could simply sit at home and do whatever they wanted. Vanessa could write the way she had always wanted to. He could do something on his own as well. He could start a small business perhaps.

Robert was pulled from his fantasy world by a knock on his door. He was annoyed. Who could this possibly be?

It turned out to be his butler who came in with a package. “Sir, this came in the mail for you.”

“Just throw it away,” said Robert, not exiting the cave he had made for himself with his quilt.

“Sir,” said the butler, “it is a book.”

“A book?” said Robert, poking his head out from his quilt. This was quite odd. Who would send him a book? Why would they do that?

“What kind of a book?” he asked.

“It doesn’t seem like a finished book,” said the butler, “rather I think it is a manuscript of some sort. I think it is the first draft of the book and… Miss Vanessa is the author.”

Robert went numb. Vanessa? She had not tried to contact him in three weeks. He had started to think that she had finally given up. If Vanessa was the author of this book, then… this must be the book that she had been writing about him and Marie. This must be the book that had started everything. The book that had begun the beautiful relationship that he would never be able to joy.

He wanted to read it. No, he needed to read it. He grabbed the box and pulled the book out. The butler gave him a look that was composed entirely of relief. He was relieved that his employer was finally excited about something, anything. The butler exited the room, and Robert looked inside the book. He started on the first page.

It was beautifully written. It was one of the most beautiful things that he had ever read in his life. Every single word was so carefully measured. Every line seemed like a work of art. But there was something different. Something had changed about this book, Robert could simply not understand right now what it was. It was then, with a start, that he realized that the book no longer sounded like him. It no longer sounded like the musings of a sad husband that was mourning the loss of his wife.

No, this book was no longer his memoir. It was no longer a memoir at all. It was a tribute. It was written entirely in Vanessa’s own language. It sounded like her, so much so that Robert laughed out loud when he read certain parts and realized that he could imagine Vanessa talking exactly like this. He was starting to realize that he had been doing a disservice to his wife’s memory by trying to write this book himself, even if he had been writing it through someone else. When Vanessa had gotten the freedom to write whatever she wanted, the thing she had written had far surpassed anything that Robert could ever have come up with. The book was perfect.

What Robert loved most about it was how honest it was. It didn’t try to paint over any aspect of their relationship. It showed their relationship for what it truly was, and Robert really liked that about the book. He really like that the book did not try to paint them as some kind of perfect couple. It was an analysis of true love, but at the same time it was a description of how true love never really seems the way it does in the movies.

Robert was so moved that he began to cry. He did not care about anything else anymore. This book was everything to him. He held it to his chest and cried for hours, but this was a different kind of crying. As he cried, he felt like he was letting Marie go. Each tear felt like another layer peeled back, another layer of grief let go. Even though he had felt like there were a thousand layers that needed to be peeled back, at the end of the day a thousand tears was not all that much to shed when you feel as much grief as Robert did.

These tears were not all tears of grief, however. There were a great many happy tears as well, and these tears were the ones that Robert focused on.

*****

Vanessa was picking flowers in the garden behind her apartment building when she heard a rustling behind her. She turned to see someone that she had not seen in three months, someone that she had not expected to see in a very long time. This was someone that she had once loved, that she still loved but in a more controlled way. This was someone that she had thought had abandoned her, but it turned out that wasn’t the case at all. There, standing right in front of her, was Robert.

She didn’t know how to react. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know how to think. Standing in front of her was a man that she had thought she had let go but it turned out that life was not so simple. She had not let him go, not as much as she thought she had. She had not let him go at all, in fact.

“Robert,” she said. It was a statement, not a question. Vanessa’s face was completely and utterly blank as she examined Robert’s face.

“Vanessa,” said Robert. He looked very good. He had a beard now but it was trimmed and neat. He was wearing nice clothes. He didn’t look depressed at all and this made Vanessa very happy indeed.