The Decameron 2.0

Day 2.10 Betrayal - MIRRORS OF NOSTALGIA SeasideWhispers

Timothy Abbey loved foggy London mornings. The blurry atmosphere suited his indecipherable personality. He usually left his house in Mayfair around eight, in a dark suite and a dark mood. He always carried an umbrella on his right arm, even if he drove all the way to work, as if he wanted to infuriate the clouds and make the sky fall down over his wrecked dreams and suffocating frustration.

He normally arrived at Saint Thomas Hospital around half past eight, and, after putting on his white coat, he walked to the laboratory, where he spent most of his time remembering his Medical School years, and wondering how different everything could have been, if only he had been a little better, a little smarter, a little less... mediocre. He was undistinguished, second-rate, and that had been his sentence all along.

The images that invaded his mind and wrung out his heart were always related to Sophie Curtis. He could still picture how incredibly sparkling her eyes were back then, even after sleepless study nights. He could still hear the sound of her whispers in the library, the magic in each of her charmingly ambitious confessions.

Those happy reminiscences were always followed by remembrances of Hugh Wellesley, by unbearable flashbacks of their third year in college, when the spark in Sophie's eyes had started to drift towards him.

Even if she was undeniably interested in Hugh, Timothy had kept dreaming of marrying her, and he had been sure he would do so one day. But Hugh was special. He wasn't characterless, and he had accomplished to satisfy Sophie's high-reaching yearnings.

Timothy had finally found the courage to confess his love to her on their wedding day. It had been the first act of bravery he had carried out in twenty-five years, and, it had had an outcome that he hadn't pictured in his wildest dreams: Sophie had kissed him. She had brought her soft, plump lips to his, and, in that sweet and fiery gesture, she had sealed their love, forever. Even if she hadn't divorced Hugh immediately, she had never turned down Timothy's suggestions to meet up, and they had embarked themselves in a maddening, exhilarating and consuming love affair.

A few months later, she had published a ground-breaking medical investigation, and had become the youngest Medicine Professor in the history of England. That recognition of her brilliance had probably reminded her of how dull Timothy was, and how little he fitted among all that excellence. She had used his influence to find him a place as a Professor at the prestigious King's College, and, after granting him with that generous, and yet pitiful, goodbye present, she had never answered his calls again. Not even after she had broken off her relationship with Hugh a year later.

Quite ironically, Timothy had been made head of the Undergraduate Research Group, an association in which only the most outstanding, purely genius medical students in the country were admitted.

Thus, he had become a grey, lonely, and nostalgic sixty-five year-old with a gaunt soul, whose monotonous, heavyhearted life took place at his house in Mayfair, the laboratory at Saint Thomas Hospital, and the Undergraduate Research Group at King's college.

But everything changed the foggy London morning when Tessa Blake first showed up at the Research Group.

"Tessa Blake, I just read your CV... And... Egad! It's good!" he told her.

Tessa smiled, and almost laughed, at his antique choice of words, and Timothy found something in her ethereal, yet completely awake, blue eyes; something that he had only seen in Sophie's gaze before.

"Thank you, sir." Tessa said.

Her words were surprisingly strong, and the way they contrasted with her angelical appearance was hooking, and almost vertiginous. He stared at her for too long, and almost pinched himself when he realized that he was developing an inappropriate attachment towards a student.