CHAPTER 134: While We Wait

POV: Avalon Pierce

Life didn’t pause for the trying.

That was the thing nobody told you.

The organization still relied on him, and his role remained crucial. Both the foundation and Nexus continued to depend on his contributions. The board of directors maintained its regular schedule, convening every other Tuesday to discuss important matters. Meanwhile, Amara persisted in sending him documents that demanded his attention, often requiring him to review them before 9:00 AM.

The trying just existed alongside everything else.

Quietly and persistently.

It was like you were holding your breath, waiting to see how long you could keep it in, the moment suspended in time.

Friday’s bloodwork was fast.

Selene was in and out in twenty minutes.

As they made their way back, she gazed out the window.

“You okay?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “ You?”

“Yes,” he said.

On their way back, they decided to make a quick stop at a cozy coffee shop.

The organization's management team got together a week later for their quarterly review meeting.

Amara presented. James asked hard questions. Selene answered them.

He sat at the far end of the table, quietly observing her as she worked, and couldn't help but think about how much she had changed since the day she first walked into that conference room. It had been a year ago, and she was a different person back then - wearing a thrift store blazer and carrying herself with a sense of reserve, a carefully constructed distance that she had maintained for ten long years.

They're distinct because of the extra layers that were added.

More certain. More here.

After the meeting James stayed behind.

“How is she,” he said quietly to Avalon.

“Good,” Avalon said.

“The process.”

“Moving,” Avalon said. “ We don’t talk about it constantly. It’s just there.”

James nodded.

He looked back, reflecting on the past. "My wife and I, we tried for a long time, three whole years," he said, his voice filled with a mix of emotions. This was a long time ago, before his life got busy with work and other things. "You know, before all the chaos," he added. He stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I think we made the right decision, not talking about it all the time," he said finally.

Avalon looked at him.

"He stated it as a fact, not really asking for confirmation. 'You have children,' he said, his tone implying that he already knew the answer."

"Two kids," James said with a hint of nostalgia. "They're all grown up now, one's living in London and the other's in Atlanta." He stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. "It all worked out in the end, I suppose."

He left and Avalon went back to work.

Catherine walked into the foundation office on the next Thursday unannounced. 

She called Selene that morning and asked if she could come by, and Selene said yes, and she came.

Avalon was there when she arrived.

She gazed around the office, taking in the whiteboard covered in Maya's unique visual language, the colorful notes and diagrams that adorned the walls, and stood there in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning the space as if absorbing every detail.

Then: “It looks like her.”

“Nene?” Selene said.

Catherine spoke up, "It was the way she thought, you know? She always believed that the question at the center of everything was what really mattered. And she'd say that having the right question was worth more than having a hundred answers."

She sat down.

They had coffee.

It wasn’t comfortable exactly.

But it was real.

As Catherine was leaving, she paused at the door and turned to gaze at Selene.

"She hoped it would work, the whole trying part, and that something would finally come out of it."

Selene looked at her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Catherine left.

Avalon looked at Selene.

“You told her,” he said.

Selene spoke up, "She asked me, and I didn't see any point in lying to her."

That evening, he decided to cook a proper dinner at home, the kind that needed some real effort, and as he worked in the kitchen, she sat at the counter, chatting away about the foundation's plans for what came next.

Normal.

Ordinary.

It's there, just beneath the surface, a quiet presence that's always felt, even if it's not always heard.

He put food on the table.

She sat down.

They ate.

“Dr. Okafor called today,” she said between bites.

“What did she say.”

So it seems like things are going well. I've got a follow-up meeting with her in a couple of weeks, just to check in and see how everything is progressing.

“Okay,” he said.

“That’s all you’re going to say.”

“What else would I say.”

“Something more.”

"It's all set," he said with a nod. "We've made some progress - there's more to work with now than we had yesterday. I think we can call it a day, this should be enough for tonight."

She looked at him.

“Okay,” she said. “ Yes. That’s enough.”

She eventually drifted off to sleep early, feeling utterly exhausted from the events of the week, which had taken a sudden and complete toll on her.

He stayed up.

Sat in the study with the lamp on.

Looked at his father’s photograph on the wall.

"He spoke softly, his words barely above a whisper. 'You would have been really good at this part,' he said. 'Just waiting. You've always been more patient than me, you know.'"

The photograph said nothing obviously.

The room didn't feel as empty as you'd expect it to.

He turned off the lamp.

Went to bed.

Lay in the dark.

Reached over.

Found her.

Stayed there.