Fool's Overture

Life could be such a domino effect. It only takes one small nudge to change your course completely. It doesn't matter if you have been on that course for only a day or over a decade. If life wants to throw you a curve ball, it damn well does. For Frederick, it all started with something as simple as a quick sweep through his own art collection. Finding old drawings and paintings of the woman he once vowed to marry. He couldn't think of why he felt the need to do so, but it started this whole new course, which made him end up right here. In front of the doors of the orphanage that she owned. Her favorite flowers in hand, a stack of envelopes in his jacket pocket, and hopefully enough courage to face her. The expression on his face clearly gave away how nervous he felt about doing so. Frederick couldn't remember ever being this nervous to meet a woman. Although, Rosslyn wasn't just a woman. She had never been just a woman to him. And maybe that was why he felt these feelings. A strange mix of fear and excitement. But most of all, anxiety for what might be ahead. No matter how well deserved it would be.  

He lifted his cane to tab on the front door of the building, when a young boy appeared beside him. ”It's open.” the boy said matter-of-factly to the clearly foolish visitor, while he pushed the door open and disappeared into the building. Fredericks eyebrows raised a bit, contemplating if he should just wait here or follow the young boy inside, while the door slowly closed again. He had, in fact, no idea how Rosslyn would react to him, standing on her doorstep. Would she even let him in? Or was it more wise to wait politely at the door. Just before the door shut close, however, he stuck the tip of his cane in the doorpost and quickly stepped inside.
He saw the boy down the hall. ”Wait, young man?” he called out to him as he entered the main hall of the mansion. ”Can you tell me where to find miss Carnegie?”

Frederick's eyes turned to where the boy was pointing—a door. Her office, he assumed. He thanked the boy and walked towards it with a nervous delay in his step. An old and familiar voice crept up again in the back of his mind. Like a little devil on his shoulder. The one who once told him to leave the first woman he truly loved. The one who convinced him he had done the right thing, that they were better off without one another, for years. The one who had locked away every memory, feeling, and sentiment of her so deeply that it had taken him nearly a decade to face her again. But just because they had been locked away, didn't mean they were gone. And just because that voice whispered to him again didn't mean he should listen. It was time for him to do the right thing. Or at least, he hoped it was the right thing.

He could hear soft shoveling behind the door, as he came to halt in front of it. For a couple seconds he quietly listened. Gathering the courage to knock. His grip around the flowers had tightened so much that one or two started to snap and droop down, and he didn't even notice. Than he finally knocked. Three soft taps on the door with his knuckles followed by a soft and hoarse ”Miss Carnegie?” No turning back now.. He cleared his throat, straightened his back and asked more loudly through the door. ”Rosslyn?” He opened it and peaked inside. There she was. As lovely as ever. More lovely than he remembered.. A tidal wave of those locked up feelings hit him as his gaze met the woman he had abandoned so long ago. Guilt, regret, fear, confusion and pain. Feelings that were hiding behind his gray-blue eyes and rather stoic facial expression. He was rather unequipped to deal with such intense feelings, and the urge to run soon followed. He was good at running. He had done it most of his life. It was almost second nature to him. Now he was going against that nature and he could truly feel the consequenses of it.

After a couple of seconds of internal screaming, he finally found his manners again and bowed his head as a way of greeting her. ”Hello..” He uttered it rather awkwardly, followed by a maybe even more awkward silence.