Save me from eternity

Is betrayal less painful when there’s someone there to share it with you?

Pax certainly hopes so. He asked Cassandra to come with him to Emi’s, implying that Alex needs her support following the incident at his father’s. Now that they’re all together, he gazes at each of them in turn, trying to drink in the sight of his loved ones before they turn their backs on him. He’s a man watching his house burn down, powerless to do anything about it.

Emi’s wearing a blue silk and wool dress with a thin gold chain and Mary Jane shoes. Her hair is up in a bun, held in place by a lacquered wooden stick. Brown eyeliner emphasizes her eyes, and she’s put on pale pink blusher to mask her fatigue. She forces a smile as she pours the tea into small white bowls, studying her son’s expressions. He’s spent the past three days locked in his room, but he agreed to come out when she told him Pax and Cassandra were coming.

Emi doesn’t know that the truth is sitting right next to her. Her son will soon be rid of the uncertainty that plagues him. He will have answers to the questions surrounding his attack and be free to think about his future again. As will she, once she gets over the initial shock and finds a way to recover from the pain. In a few hours, she’ll draft her resignation letter. She’ll make an appointment with the HR manager next week and explain that she no longer feels she has a place at Demeson. He’ll say he’s sorry to lose her and tell her she did excellent work for them, particularly since the accident, with that theatre training. She’ll suggest they stop anonymizing Christian Perraud by using initials in memos about his death, and that they review their support programme for employees nearing retirement age (and she’ll know from the executive’s polite nod that he won’t change a thing). When she leaves, she’ll pass on her files, except for the archived email, which she’ll permanently delete. Christian Perraud’s prophecy has come to pass: she won’t be forgetting him any time soon. The uncertainty will continue to eat away at her. It will ease off occasionally, but then, when she hears about an incident on the news or in a discussion with colleagues, whenever there’s a workers’ strike, it will return with a vengeance. If Emi had opened that email sooner, if she’d met with Christian Perraud and listened to what he had to say, she would have understood that he never planned to end his life. He wasn’t depressed; he was angry. He was ready to go head-to-head. He knew enough about the company’s violations to take action against them, maybe even win a court case. But then the steering wheel slipped, and his revenge was stolen from him—nothing can escape the whims of fate.

Cassandra is wearing a pretty beige jumper, jeans and black ankle boots. She’s sitting on the sofa armrest talking to Alex, who’s standing with his back against the wall. She’s telling him about the record deal that’s in the works, and the number of YouTube views, which keeps going up. Alex doesn’t answer. He’s sullen and aloof, but Cassandra doesn’t give up easily. Her determination and endless energy are her best qualities. She winks at her father as if to say, “Don’t worry, I’ve got a handle on it.” In ten minutes, she’ll be speechless, stunned by the revelation that will shake the ground beneath them all. She’ll be terribly ashamed of her father. Later tonight she’ll cry tears of rage as she struggles to fall asleep. But she won’t be thinking of him or Alex; she’ll be thinking of Ingrid, sleeping next to her. Cassandra has met another woman. It’s been a month already, a month since she was swept off her feet. The feeling is so strong that she knows she has to break up with her girlfriend. She hasn’t said anything, though. She’s in the final stages of the admissions process for a prestigious MBA in New York—the goal she’s been working towards since September. It’s not the right time for a split.

Alex bites his lip as he listens to Cassandra go on about albums, success and future plans. She must be talking about someone else, some guy who has it all. He thinks about the track he composed yesterday, “Save me from eternity”; about the giant hole inside him that’s tearing him apart, and which grew even larger at Christmas. He thinks life must have made a mistake by offering to love him again. He won’t be made a fool of twice. And yet, that’s exactly what’s about to happen: a few words will soon change everything.

Pax contemplates the three people who matter most to him and feels his heart contract, pulling on his lungs.

He can’t breathe.

“Pax,” says Emi, worried. “Is something wrong? Say something!”