March, 2018

Michelle had already gone home, so it was just Ian, Caitlin and Murphy seeing Pri and Ingrid off at the airport. Priyanka hadn't gone into detail, but it appeared that her brief romance with Eric had burned out.

"I'll miss you so much," Caitlin murmured in Ingrid's ear as they hugged tightly. "I love you dearly, Ingrid, and I'm so incredibly grateful for everything. Don't you ever forget that."

"I'm not likely to, sunshine," Ingrid whispered back. "We'll keep in touch, yeah? And you can visit me anytime."

"You bet I will!"

Ingrid stepped forward to shake Murphy's hand once Cait moved on to Pri. "Thank you for everything, Murph. You've been a literal life-saver."

"My pleasure, ma'am. Keep up the good work."

Ian lingered on the sidelines, hands in the pockets of his jeans. They exchanged a charged look, neither of them able to voice the thoughts swirling through their minds in that moment.

"Been a wild ride, this," Ingrid said.

He nodded. "Quite."

"Come here." Ingrid closed in and pulled him in a warm embrace. His arms wrapped themselves around her, as if by instinct, engulfing her whole. "It's been fun while it lasted," she spoke into his skin, "so much fun. I... I'm so sorry I couldn't give you what you wanted. Hope I haven't used you up. Hope there's enough left for you to move on safely."

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. "I'll manage."

She held him tighter. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. And grateful."

Something snapped inside of her as she pulled away. A piece of something indefinable broke off and stayed behind, maybe with him, maybe in the space between them, floating unhinged until it vanished into thin air.

A heavy piece, that lightened her load, freed her soul of chains that had constrained it for years. She'd torn down her own walls, marched into the abandoned battlefield of her past, buried the forgotten dead and now stepped back into her transparent safety bubble, poised to fly out into the unknown, like an early explorer in a hot-air balloon.

The mental image made her smile. She made a note to share the idea with Cillian, it felt like it would have fit with the steampunk universe he was striving to build.

Ingrid blew Caitlin a kiss and waved as she backed away, trailing a small suitcase along. She and Priyanka passed through security together, then sat down for a snack and a final coffee, reminiscing.

"I'll see you on the other side," Pri said when they parted. "Take care, Ingrid."

"You too, princess. I have a feeling we're gonna have a lot of fun."

Priyanka laughed, walking away. "It's Australia, baby!"

"Yeah...," Ingrid muttered to herself, "that's what I'm counting on."

*

Ingrid was surprised to find her old friend Remington waiting for her at the arrivals gate in Berlin with a bouquet of flowers. He waved when he spotted her and she headed in his direction with her luggage.

"Seriously, Casanova?" she said once she was within earshot. "Red roses?"

Remi shrugged a shoulder. "They were by the till when I went to buy smokes."

She took the roses from his hand. "I missed you too, you little bitch."

Remi laughed low in his throat and pulled her to him, squeezing her. He smelled of the cigarettes that had inspired him to get her flowers.

"It's so fucking good to see you," he said, "you had me really scared there for a minute."

"It's good to be back," she replied. "Now take me home, please."

He obliged with a mock-military salute and helped her with the luggage to his car.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Remi asked after he hopped in behind the wheel.

Ingrid pondered as she fastened her seatbelt. "Yeah... and then some. But it's all dead and gone now. Buried deep."

"I see." Remi turned the key into ignition, backed out of his parking slot and drove away. "So where to next?"

*

April, 2018

"Listen," Teddy said on the other end of the line, "the kid's underage and I fucked his dad. I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole."

Ingrid rolled her eyes into the phone. "I'm not asking you to sleep with him, just... introduce him to some boys his age he can fool around with. What I want you to help him out with, is his comics."

A dead beat. Ingrid had called her old friend and occasional lover to request his assistance on Cillian's behalf. Besides his off-the-books sex therapy services, he was also a very talented artist. Just what Cillian needed for his comic book project.

"What do you mean?"

"The boy writes comics, Teddy. He needs an artist to draw them."

"Right. This is a pretty lengthy bill you're running up here, love. Who's gonna be footing it?"

Ingrid laughed, glancing at her wristwatch. She was due to meet somebody soon and had made the phone call to kill some time.

"Just put it on my tab. Oh, and one last thing, Teds – do you think you could put me in touch with your dad?"

"My dad?" Teddy sounded incredulous. "Whatever the hell for?"

"Well, I'm not sure you've heard but I'm going to Melbourne soon. On business. Your dad used to work for Brennan Australia before the recession shut it down, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did."

"I might need some contacts. Anyway," Ingrid hurried to end the conversation as she saw her lunch appointment approach, "I'll text you more details, gotta go now. Bye, Teds."

"Right. Bye, baby."

Ingrid put her phone down and smiled up. The gesture was not reciprocated.

"What do you want?" Oskar demanded as soon as he sat down with his lunch. "I don't have much time, so this had better be quick."

She watched him dig into his cafeteria-bought pasta and felt her throat tighten. She'd spent a long time wondering whether to do this and was beginning to regret it. Had she really believed that she'd be able to make amends with this boy she'd used up and broken down? Had she really hoped he could forgive her?

"It's, um," Ingrid fidgeted in her seat. "It's something of a long story."

"Well," Oskar mumbled, mouth full, and swallowed, "make it short. Some of us have work to do."

"Right." She clenched and unclenched her fist. The broken-hearted boy had now become a world-weary man. "I'm sorry," she stood up, "this was a bad idea."

Knowing she only had herself to blame, Ingrid picked up her coat and strode away. For a split second, she imagined him getting up after her, running towards her, grabbing her arm and apologising... But, of course, he didn't. He had nothing to apologise for.

She stole a glance over her shoulder at Oskar, sitting by himself, scrolling with one finger through the smartphone beside his plate as he forked up pasta and shoved it in his mouth. He stopped chewing for a moment and raised his head but she bolted before he met her eye.

*

Busy packing and labelling boxes, Ingrid had almost forgotten about the lunch fiasco when her doorbell rang and she came face to face with a tipsy Oskar as she opened the front door.

"Hi," he said.

She quirked an eyebrow at the stench he exhaled. "Oskar, mate – you reek. Are you drunk?"

"Yeah, well," he pushed past her and showed himself in, "it's the only way I can sleep these days. I swear I don't know how you do it. This fucking corporate bullshit is eating at my soul."

Sighing, she slammed the door shut and took the coat he shrugged out of. "Well, I don't have a soul, now do I?"

"Oh, I wish." He watched her hang up his coat and provide him with a pair of slippers. "That'd just allow me to hate you, and hating you would be so much easier."

Ingrid let that one sit. "Come," she said, "I'll make you some camomile tea. It's supposed to be calming."

He followed her into the kitchen. "Is that what you drink these days?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you mind if I take a shower in the meantime?" He lingered away from the cupboard on top of which he'd fucked her for the last time two years ago, in a fit of heartbroken despair. "I need to wash this fucking city off my skin."

"No, not at all." She smiled at him. "Let me get you a towel. And a change of clothes."

In her bedroom, he spotted the boxes meant for Australia. "Melbourne?" he read aloud.

"Yeah, that's my next adventure." Ingrid dug around her wardrobe and fetched a T-shirt and trousers. "Here."

He took the clothes from her. "Whose are these? If... you don't mind me asking, that is."

"They're Remi's." A crooked smirk. "He's a friend, he's been looking after my place while I was away."

"Oh, right – you went back to New York."

It was a very plain statement, the obvious one to make, but it gave Ingrid a renewed jolt of guilt.

"That's..." She lowered her eyes, her voice small. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

A reluctant pause. "Then... join me for a bath?"

She frowned at him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I'd like to feel good for a change."

"Okay," she whispered. "Then you go ahead and draw us a bath. I'll bring the tea."

They sat opposite each other in the tub, like so many times before, his legs framing her knees, their hands cradling mugs of fragrant tea, and she began to talk. Told him everything, in a form cosmeticized enough that he had all the important details without being privy to the gory ones.

His face underwent a lot of changes throughout her tale, from shock and pity to disbelief and compassion. In the end, he settled on a bittersweet expression, at a loss for words.

"Fucking hell, Ingrid. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just... thank you for listening."

"I feel like such a dick now. I – " He shook his head. "I was horrible to you."

"No!" She reached out and patted his knee. "No, Oskar. You... Once upon a time, how did you put it? Oh, that's it – you fixed me and I broke you. This doesn't change that."

He sighed. "No, I... I suppose it doesn't."

"I'm sorry."

"What made you change your mind? About telling me, I mean. Why are you telling me all this? Now?"

Ingrid set her empty mug down on the tiled floor. "I just... Revisiting all that made me see life in a new light, I guess. I've a new beginning ahead of me now."

"What, another one?"

She laughed at his playful smirk. "Yes! I was lucky enough to get another go. But this time, I'm tying up all my loose ends."

"I'm a loose end, then?"

"Something of the sort."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Oskar, I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories. And I didn't want to justify myself, either. I can't change the past. But maybe I can change the future. And I just wanted you to know... I wanted you to know how much you meant to me. How sorry I am, how grateful I am – "

She stopped to swallow the knot building up in her throat.

"That's quite alright. I invited myself, didn't I?" He put his own mug away and leaned forward, resting his chin atop her knees and wrapping his arms around her calves. "Truth is, Ingrid, ever since you, I... I haven't been able to hold down a relationship. I can't stand it. I can't stand the phony romance. I can't stand the subtle hints. I need to be told straight to my face, you know? I'm not a fucking mind-reader!"

Ingrid laughed. "What kind of girls have you been seeing?"

"The wrong kind."

"Well, the right one is out there somewhere. She's waiting for you to find her, just as fed up with all the other lousy guys."

"You think so?"

"I hope so." Ingrid brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "One day, when you're both ready, you'll find each other."

"Who says we haven't already?"

"I'm sorry, Oskar. I can't be that woman for you. I'm going away to the arse-end of the world, remember?"

"I can wait for you. Or I could come with you."

"I think it's best for both that you don't. Now I've done the breaking, somebody else needs to do the fixing. Or better yet, fix yourself up. Quit your job if it's toxic, take some time away. Go back to that place where you healed me."

Twinned nostalgic smiles on both their faces. Their trip to a cabin in the woods once upon a time felt like forever ago. So much had changed since. They had changed so much. For the better or the worse... it was hard to tell.

"Loose ends," she said, intertwining their fingers, "tie 'em."

He glanced down at their joined hands. "So you'd rather be my loose end than my happily ever after?"

"Happily ever after? Me? Not in this life, mate."

"Why not? You've earned it."

"I wouldn't know what to do with it."

"Well, you might learn. Never say never." He kissed each of her knees in turn. "Now, about that loose-end tying..."

*

"You know what the difference is?" Ingrid mused one evening at Remi's pub – appropriately named The Secret Keeper – holding up her tumbler to examine the remnants of whiskey inside. It was a quiet mid-week night and she was the only patron seated at the bar.

Remi said nothing, only raised an eyebrow at her when she didn't continue.

"Leon actually loved me," she said and knocked back her drink.

Remi stopped cleaning glasses behind the counter and slung his rag over his shoulder, listening to her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"In his own incredibly twisted way," Ingrid went on, "he loved me. He would have never hurt me. He almost hit me once," at this Remi's eyebrow jumped up again, "but he held back. At the very last moment – but he did hold back. Jack didn't. He never held back and he never loved me. I was just a toy he occasionally wanted to play with. A literal trophy wife."

"Wait," Remi held up a hand, frowning. "Motherfucker did what? He hit you?"

Grunting, Ingrid stretched to reach for the whiskey bottle behind the bar and refilled her glass. "He did, yeah. The night he died."

Remi snorted. "Good fucking riddance."

"Yeah, well..." She gulped down a generous sip. "Remember they found a shit-ton of coke in his system and the coppers arrested Leon to question him about it? Turns out they were right all along. Leon got Jack the coke, then shoved him into the Hudson."

Remi leaned forward on his hands, palms pressed into the shiny surface of the countertop. "And you know that how?"

"He told me."

"He who? Jack?"

A twinkle of amusement in Remi's voice, which Ingrid rolled her eyes at.

"No, Leon."

Remi got himself a tumbler and grabbed the bottle, pouring them drinks. They clinked glasses and she brought hers to her mouth, keeping it there as if she was trying to get drunk on the smell alone.

"And you believed him?" Remi questioned, tasting his drink. "Did it ever occur to you that he might have said it just to mess with your head, like all those other things he used to say to you?"

Ingrid breathed into her tumbler and the steamed glass hid her lips as she downed the amber liquid.

"No... but it was something he always bragged about doing and..." She slammed the empty glass on its coaster, motioned to Remi for another refill. He obliged, although with some reluctance. "I watched him kill a man, Remi. In the blink of an eye. No fucking hesitation or remorse."

"Shit," Remi hissed, "fucking hell, baby, I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

"Yeah." She hopped off her bar stool, sighing. "Shit happens, Rem. Life sucks." She picked up her coat from a neighbouring stool and put it on. "But," she grabbed her glass and emptied it, "the world keeps spinning and all we can do is our best as we spin along."

"Famous last words," Remi grinned.

Ingrid chuckled, sticking her fists into her warm coat pockets. "Not tonight, Remi. Not tonight. My luxury layover retreat awaits."

"Oh, right, you're dropping by Singapore first."

"Yup, and I booked myself a week of five-star treatment." Ingrid winked. "Me, myself and I, and an infinity pool in sky," she said, backing away, "what's there not to love?"

"Own it, baby!" Remi called after her and she smiled to herself as she stepped outside into the chilly spring air.

The city noises roared up loud, in comparison to the sheltered quietude of the pub she'd just left. Heels hit the ground, chatter created pockets of mist, laughter occasionally weaved itself in, music resounded vaguely. Cars screeched and skidded, growled and huffed and puffed, sirens blared in the distance. Colourful lights – yellow and red and green and blue – punctuated the night-time urban landscape.

Ingrid sucked in a deep breath and fell into step with the flow, disappearing into the crowd of people on the pavement. Each had their own journeys ahead and behind them but they were all spinning along together. Moving parts in the metropolitan machine, expendable and replaceable.

All they had was time to kill until they reached the end of the road.

~ The End ~

*

song of the chapter: bine indispus by the motans

https://youtu.be/CWCozBzghGg