I point at the note, and she reads it.
"Notice something?" I ask.
She looks at the note and then at me again.
"He made a spelling mistake?"
"That's right. He wrotesometimes. It changes the meaning, doesn't it? What do you think?"
She looks at me, the pity in her eyes something I choose to ignore. "Well, technically, it does, but sometime versus sometimes is a very common mistake people make."
"I know,I know," I say impatiently, something tickling my stomach. "But Achilles and I didn't make that mistake because that saying was always the same. And he wrotetwonotes. One was in the garage, and one was in the ring box in his violin case. He didn’t make the mistake once, he made it twice. So, what would you say changes? Sometime/sometimes. What's the difference inmeaning?"
Her mouth twists with sadness over my situation, but this time, she doesn't deny me. "Again,technically, you should try itsometimewould mean you should try it at one point in the future."
"Right, and that's what we used to say to each other."
She nods and continues. "You should try itsometimesmeans you should try it from time to time. Not just once in the future."
"Exactly," I say. That thing in my stomach, I can finally describe it. It's hope. "He was trying to tell me something. He was telling me to keep dreaming from time to time, like to keep hope, right? This could mean something important. What if… I know this sounds crazy, but what if?—"
"Nyx," she says as she takes my hand in hers. "I think you're going down a slippery slope right now. I understand why. You're in pain, and this feels good. Hope feels amazing. But at the end of that slope, all there is is disappointment, and ultimately more pain. I know it's hard. It's very hard, and I wish he was still here too. We're going to get through this together, but not like this. He's gone, sweetie."
I take a step back, my heart sinking as I realize that I might be truly going insane.
"It has no meaning. That's what you think," I say disappointedly, yet knowing she's right.
"What I think is that Achilles was in a lot of pain, and only one person helped him alleviate that pain from time to time. That person was you. I think he found himself at the end of the road, and that the only person he was thinking of in that moment was you. So he wrote you a note to let you know that." She shakes her head, her voice wavering as she tries to stay strong for me, and I feel horrible for putting her through this. "I can only imagine what went through his mind to…do what he did. And yes, he made a spelling mistake on both notes that he wrote that night because of the state he was in."
I shake my head, laughing to myself. "Of course. I'm sorry." I put the notes back in my bag. "I'm so sorry for this."
"Don't be. You’re grieving. I'll be here every step of the way." She hugs me tightly, and we walk back together to the cars.
At the lake house, the seven of us share stories about Achilles. We laugh, we drink his favorite whiskey, and for a brief moment, I don't feel so lonely. Ella and Chris are the ones staying with me that night. The one after, it's Peach and Wren. And then it's Xi and Alex. It goes on for weeks, and sometimes, one of the girls has to sleep with me. Every day, I wake up in the morning thinking he's here before I realize I'm in an empty bed or next to one of my friends. Often, I'm already running down the stairs when I come to, certain I'll catch him before the act, forgetting that he's long gone.
The weeks go by, and stories come out that an anonymous student account called Hermes took down the biggest secret society in the world. People are arrested, but most often, the Shadows turn on each other, or the mafia kills them before they can talk, desperate to protect themselves.
The public begs to see theHermes Files, but they’re never released to us. All that happens is that we learn of webs of criminals in the elite world that no one would’ve known about if it weren't for Achilles. That some women were forced to join and were now free and entitled to sue their perpetrators. Other women were accomplices to crimes, but some did manage to switch sides at the last second and get away with it. My mother never got arrested, for example.
The extent of all of this? We don’t truly know, but all I can think about is how happy he would be if he was among us. He had reached his goal, so why, fuck,whydid he leave us?
It turns out that Sophie and I are the only two people listed in Achilles's will. We each inherit a half of his fortune, and dear lord, it's a fortune if I've ever seen one. I get the lake house, too, which was apparently in his name and not his father's, and I also get the most precious thing of all…his work. Both his concertos are mine. I'm one of the richest women in the world, both in money and art, and yet there’s nothing but an endless well of sadness inside me. In fact, I'm constantly sick to my stomach, puking my guts out and incapable of even attempting to live, let alone eat.
After a while, the hardest thing happens: Life keeps on going.
No matter how much power Achilles had, the world didn't stop spinning when he died. Only mine did.
It starts with small things. The sink gets blocked in the kitchen, and I have to call a plumber. It's a new interaction I didn't expect, and Achilles isn't here. Then I get a call from the ear doctor in New York because my hearing aid is ready. I come back home with it, but I never put it on, incapable of living a life where Achilles isn't the first voice I hear with it.
After a couple of months, I have to get back to classes. Achilles would turn over in his grave if I gave up on my dream, but he's not there at orchestra rehearsals on Mondays.
Going back to SFU was just as hard as I’d anticipated. The whole college is in mourning, having lost the person everyone wanted to get close to. His death turned him from college king to legend. I was told the orchestra held a moment of silence for him before I came back, too. The student paper wrote an article about him, riddled with lies because they didn’t know him. The students talk about him like he was their friend when he couldn’t stand any of them. They share made-up memories, twisting their interactions. But the whispers in the hallways are the worst. Because some of them strongly believe Achilles wasn’t suicidal before he met me. And I’m forced to ignore them because he wouldn’t give them the time of day, and I know it’d make him proud if I don’t either.
My dad comes back from rehab, healthy and well, and Achilles doesn’t see the result of his selfless act. My dad wants nothing but a trailer on the North Shore, so I get him that. Soon, I'm alone in that big lake house, and our friends visit me once a week.
Winter turns to spring, spring to summer, and in the new school year, I'm chosen as the soloist for our orchestra. That's when the saddest thing of all happens. He's not here to celebrate with me, to reap the hard work that he put in with me, yet I feel proud and happy of what I achieved. And that day, I keep on living.
I go home, his clothes don't smell like him anymore, and I keep on living.
