The White Canvas Operation

EPILOGUE (Sunny P.O.V)

Picture: The bride by Alcide Robaudi

Six months later.

Woodlawn Cemetery.

Do not wear black for me.

I smile sadly while we walk across the lawn between tombstones and small sculptures, we both have obeyed Cassandra's wish this time: Stella has picked out ripped jeans and a flashy red jacket inspired by the ones baseball players wear, I opted for rosy jeans and a grey T-shirt that Stella has painted with a graffiti design with fabric paint. She designed a line of airbrush painted clothing last month and sales are pretty good in some stores of the city, profits go directly to pre-eminent cancer research organizations, and they've asked her to do something similar with towels and beach bags for summer... This is a very dear project to her despite she's very busy being the darling of New York art scene.

Her career is going well, managed with firm hand by André, and despite it all came out after Véronique's death when the media started to investigate, her years in Litchfield only gave her an aura of badass girl that helped her to sell more and more paintings. Stella is some kind of romantic heroine who sacrificed herself for love and also the new gay icon, lot of young girls have opened fan accounts on Instagram where they follow her movements and events she attends and bouquets of flowers and teddy bears arrive to our apartment nonstop, she sends them to the hospital for children suffering from cancer. Her fans also stop her on the street asking for an autograph or a small drawing if she's not in a hurry... sometimes her fame is a nuisance but most of the time is just funny and, as she says: "I prefer this crazy life than going to jail again."

We pass by old massive mausoleums, walking round the lake, holding hands while gardeners start planting spring flowers despite breeze is cold on this March morning and grass is wet with dew. Stella mumbles something I don't understand and walks with decision towards the area with more trees at the back of the cemetery till we stop quietly in front of the tall white oak. Wind and rain have started to stain and wear away the marble but the angel is still hugging the beautiful naked girl and smiles enigmatically when my fiancée lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles, pensively... The engagement ring she gave me weeks ago sparkles under the sunlight, a simple diamond set in platinum, a classic and unpretentious jewel... The truth is that I was expecting something fancier and edgier but then I noticed how good it looked next to the Renaissance-style ring she bought me in Rome, that I wear most of the time, and I understood why she picked out this one. I lean forward slowly and leave the yellow freesias bouquet, the first ones of the spring, on the grey tombstone.

"You did it, Cassie..." Stella whispers next to me. "Here we are together, happy, alive, loving each other... the way you wanted it..." I slide my arm around her waist and my girl puts hers on my shoulders, hugging me closer to her body, while I feel the first tear running down my cheek. "Thank you for finding a princess for me, I don't deserve her..." I snort amused and she smiles, kissing my temple before talking again. "But I promise I will take care of her like you asked me in your letter, this time forever. We love you... and we miss you... both of us... Thank you for everything, Cassandra..." Stella's voice breaks and I turn to huge her, soaking her beautiful jacket with my own tears. We cry quietly staring at the sculpture since there's nothing more that can be said while the sun warms our backs and the breeze smells of perfumed flowers.

"It's time to go..." I whisper and my fiancée nods but I wasn't talking with her actually. A gust of fresh air shakes the bouquet and petals of freesias fly away, wrapping us up in a fragrant yellow cloud before going their way towards the white oak and beyond... towards the blue sky. Suddenly, the atmosphere seems lighter, the sun shines brighter and the dull pain I felt in my heart since the day Cassie died vanishes, leaving behind the good memories. I smile, relieved, and then look up... Stella stares at me confused, frowning because she's felt it too... that feeling of lightness... someone has taken a weight off our minds and bodies and we both know who did it. My fiancée nods again and her tattooed hand caresses my cheek before kissing me sweetly. By mutual agreement, despite we haven't said a single word, we turn around and start walking slowly towards the cemetery gates, towards our new life and brilliant future... We walk alone. She's not with us anymore.