My Beloved Oppressor

[Dear Catherine,

I am writing to you in the hope that this letter will reach you safely.

I received your letter very late in the process of evacuation when the defense line was breached. I am sorry if I worried you.

Catherine may have read the newspaper. I was slightly injured during the operation when things went haywire. Do not worry. It was not a serious injury and I’m now being treated at the Portsman Hospital and is doing well.

I can’t tell you how alarmed I was when I heard Cynthia was bombed.I tried calling the Grott’s phone number, but the phone lines didn’t seem to be connected.

Are you okay? Are you safe?

(Omitted)

I’ve been involved with that person (Heiner) recently. My heart is complicated, so I went back and read the P.S. of the letter you wrote to me last time. It was very helpful.

Actually, in my head I understand. That it is right to end here completely with that person. There is nothing left to hold on to, and going our separate ways is good for each other.

But I want to have a proper talk with him once. In the church where I was held captive, I realized it only when I was on the verge of death. The fact that I never did………… That became a regret.

Catherine, I do not believe that everything can be miraculously resolved through deep conversations.

However, I do believe that by knowing what I did not know, I will have the opportunity to make a few better choices. As you and I did in the reception room of the official residence under the winter sun.

If I miss this opportunity again this time — I think it will remain as a regret for the rest of my life.

Catherine, you said it yourself. That I am trying too hard and I should let my heart feel as its pleases. I think I’ll do it. You will support me, won’t you?

(Omitted)

I will be discharged as soon as I am healed. I will be making a little stop at Cynthia on my way back. I am so looking forward to meeting you, kind Bruner, and the lovely Olivia. I hope to have an in-depth conversation with you when I get back that I didn’t even get to have with you.

Until then, please be well.

With love,

Annette Rosenberg.]

****

As her body began to recover, her caregiver no longer needed to be on call day and night. Annette decided to call her caregiver only during the day, during the hours she needed them.

Around that time, Annette heard back from her caregiver about Heiner’s response. She said he did not respond.

He did not respond.

She struggled with this answer. She wasn’t sure if it was meant as a rejection or simply a real non-response.

Annette put in another request to the caregiver. But the answer she got back was still the same. In the end, she gave up trying to get the word out.

But that did not mean giving up on seeing him.

There was still some time left before she would be discharged from the hospital, and she had nothing to do right now. Annette decided to wait idly for him in the lobby on the first floor of the hospital.

No matter how busy he was, he wasn’t going to be confined to a hospital room all day. He was hospitalized like she was, so she was sure he would be discharged someday, and she believed she would be able to see him at least once if she stayed here.

With this in mind, Annette spent most of the day sitting on the lobby chair.

Actually, she knew it was stupid. Killing time here all day was no guarantee that she would see him. But it was all she could do.

And sitting in an open and crowded lobby provided more stability for her body and mind than being in an empty private room.

Sometimes, when she was in a hospital room with the door closed, she would be plagued by a strange fear that the ceiling was about to collapse. It was so even though she knew it couldn’t be.

Of course, she did not tell her caregiver any of this. She let her think that she was just here waiting for the Commander-in-Chief. Because only then would it reach him.

 Time passed slowly.

[Celent broke its declaration of neutrality and announced its intention to enter the war. Celent’s declaration under the current neutrality law is in the spirit of the state religion …….]

Annette knitted while listening to the radio in the lobby. A certain Mrs. in the next hospital room told her it was a good way to spend some time. Since it had been so long, she started over with a simple scarf. As she did it, she got used to it, and it was already more than halfway through.

“Oh my, who is this?”

Annette’s head snapped up at the sound coming from overhead. A wrinkled face was smiling before her eyes.

“Annette opened her mouth happily.

“Grandmother.”

She was the old woman who was injured in the church.

The old woman had made it out of the church safely with her help and was currently being treated at Portsman Hospital. She hadn’t seen her since the last time she had visited Annette’s hospital room.

“May I sit with you for a minute?”

“Of course. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m almost healed and will be discharged soon. Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“Just bad dreams….”

“That’s normal, I suppose. If you experience something like that and it’s normal, it’s not right.”

The old woman gave a small click of her tongue. Annette smiled silently.

“But more importantly, why are you here?”

“Oh, I’m just—I’m waiting for someone.”

“Waiting? When are they coming?”

“I’m not sure. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know if he will be coming or not.”

“Is that so?”

The old woman did not ask anymore. She just remained silent and deliberate, as if thinking about something, and gave quiet advice.

“If you are going to wait, you must wait very long, so you won’t have any regrets later.”

The old woman’s voice sounded somewhat sad. Annette listened wholeheartedly.

“When I was young, my husband worked in a coal mine overseas. But one day I received word that he had died because the mine collapsed. At first I didn’t believe it and waited for him, but eventually I remarried. Because I could not feed my children on my own.”

“Ah….”

“But, six months after I remarried, my husband, whom I thought was dead, came back alive. It was a miracle, but I couldn’t just rejoice. At the time, I was pregnant with my new husband’s child…….. Well, that’s how it ended.”

Her wrinkles proved that the passage of time did not wait for anyone. They were the marks of a hard life.

“I don’t think my choice at the time was wrong. It was the best I could do at the time. But I do regret it. At the time, waiting for my husband seemed terribly long, but now that I think about it, it wasn’t even that long……….”

The end of her words cracked like the roots of a tree. The old woman’s voice was small and weak, but it came through strangely clearly.

The old woman chuckled and said.

“In fact, no matter which one you choose, you will always have regrets. That’s life, so what can we do about it? We just try to have a little less regret.”

***

The hospital lobby was quiet and dark late at night.

Annette, who was sitting alone knitting, realized that she had knitted the wrong stitch in the middle, and began to undo it.

However, it took her a while to untwist it because she realized after a while that she had sewed it wrong. Annette worked calmly.

The moment she grabbed the yarn and pulled out the tangled thread with her right hand, her left hand felt weak as if it didn’t belong to her.

It was as if she had thought there were stairs, stepped out and crashed straight down.

The knitting dropped onto her lap. Without time to grab it, the material slid to the floor on the hem of her skirt.

For some reason, she felt her heart pounding.

Annette sat idly, not even thinking about picking up the fallen knit. Her left hand rested limply on her lap.

She lowered her gaze and looked at her weak left hand. She tried to move her fingers, but it didn’t work as well as she wanted.

A dark desolation crept up her limb. Annette kept her eyes down and held her breath. Just what good would all this do, she wondered.

Suddenly, footsteps rang out at the far end of the lobby hallway. Annette didn’t think to check for anyone in particular, but just kept her eyes down.

The regular steps continued, and before she knew it, she heard them nearby. The moment when Annette belatedly tried to raise her head, realizing that the sound of those steps was somehow familiar.

A large, thick hand suddenly came into view.

The hand picked up her fallen knit

and held it out to her. Annette stared blankly at it and slowly raised her head.

A peculiarly sharp, brooding face looked down at her. The deep, sunken gray eyes contained no light of any kind. He looked somewhat angry.

Annette, who had been staring at him in a daze, hesitantly accepted the knit.

Heiner silently held out one hand. He seemed to mean to grab it and stand up. Annette hesitated, looking a little perplexed, but cautiously took his hand and stood up.

He moved toward the hallway. Annette said nothing as she was pulled along by his hand. She glanced at the hand she was holding.

The hard, calloused hand held hers with minimal force. As if handling a small creature that could have easily died. It felt strange.