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chap. II
Traffic is calm at this time of the day.
I stop by the office, grab some documents, and leave. I have a meeting with directors of a company on the other side of the city. I turn on the radio. jazz music from the 40s plays - of all decades, seriously? No. This is not for me, not today. Not after the dream I had. I switch to the news.
I only return to my office at the end of the morning. Barely out of the elevator, my secretary rushes towards me, "Mr. Meyer, good morning. I'm glad you're here. Mr. Bartel called several times. He said it's urgent. He called your cell phone, but it went to voicemail."
"I turned it off for the meeting..."
This is another bad habit I'm developing - turning off the phone and forgetting to turn it back on. What's happening to me? My phone is my work tool! Ah, the dream is really affecting my focus.
I take the device from my suit pocket and turn it on. Tim called several times. It doesn't surprise me. He's always obsessive when he wants something. "Did he say what it was about?"
"No, sir."
Tim Bartel is my best friend. I met him in my first year of university. We studied together for the first two years. By the end of the fourth semester, he just dropped out. On impulse. He thought he'd make more money in a big business. Which one? I don't even remember anymore.
In recent years, Tim has been jumping from business to business like someone changing shoes, always looking for the big opportunity to get rich. He's restless, unable to settle into a routine. He lives immersed in dreams of grandeur. Impulsiveness follows him in almost everything. If he gets a job, he quits a few months later. He believes he's not being valued. Or because he thinks he's found something much better, the formula to make tons of money. He jumps from one profession to another, as if a fortune will rain down on him at any moment. As if wealth is a stroke of luck, and life, an eternal lottery.
Tim has no idea how to make and save money. That's the truth. In the few times he succeeded in a business, he quickly spent the profits on expensive purchases, trips, and other luxuries.
After dropping out of uni, he got involved in a series of ventures - selling cars, producing organic vegetables, organizing events - and even tried to make a career as a singer. Every time, he assures me, "Now I'm on the right track! I'm going to make a ton of money!"
He always ends up broke.
I oftentimes get amazed at how easily he finds partners for his craziness. Or loans. I get even more amazed at how quickly the businesses fall apart.
When we met, we quickly became friends. We were very different from each other. Like water and wine, as they say. Coming from a middle-class family, Tim didn't have financial problems; he didn't need to work. Just study. He would lemme borrow the most expensive books, which I couldn't afford. He also invited me to eat when he noticed that money was tight. I almost always accepted it and to this day, I'm grateful for those good meals.
My life at that time was in constant rush. I worked, studied, had to pay bills. I had to take care of my own things. I couldn't always join him on his adventures. While I was pursuing a career and professional stability, he was venturing into business after business. Always with his head in the clouds, dreaming of the fortune that would arrive at dawn.
But as the saying goes, money doesn't tolerate disrespect. Over time, my friend's financial situation worsened. Unlike mine, which improved significantly. The roles reversed. Now, I'm the one who can help him. I just refuse to become a partner in his ventures. That will be the quickest way to lose the friendship that's so important to both of us.
Whenever I can, I try to talk some sense into him.
In the beginning I avoided giving him money in the hope that, driven by necessity, he would dedicate himself to a more stable job. However, over time, I started helping him with small amounts to prevent him from being homeless and malnourished. His parents are now living on retirement and can't cover extra expenses. And Tim has his own family to support.
When I met him, my friend fell in love easily. So much so that when he introduced a new girlfriend, claiming she was the love of his life, I would joke, "Let's wait for the next one." He'd give me a dirty look. I'd laugh. I knew that the following week he'd be with someone else, saying he wouldn't know what to do if she left him. Which is funny because it was always him who ended up leaving them.
I was surprised when his relationship with Julia lasted past the third month. And the fourth. And then three years. A bigger shock came when he invited me to be the best man at his wedding.
Julia is an amazing woman. Someone who knows what she wants. I thought that maybe she would talk some sense into Tim's head. Turn my friend into a more responsible man.
What was I thinking?
When he had a streak of luck, Tim convinced her, though with difficulty, to quit her job as a teacher. "Her salary is too low. It's not worth it," he justified.
Indeed, Julia didn't make much, but that was the couple's only fixed source of income.
When Tim's business failed once again, he and Julia were completely out of money. Their daughter, Mia, was born during that time.
The baby's birth and the initial care required substantial amounts of money. Mia had a brain injury. She needed intensive medical care. I would never abandon my friend at such a time. I helped the family a lot. Julia wanted to go back to teaching, but their daughter required full-time attention. Tim kept trying new business ventures. From time to time, I would lend him new amounts.
'Lend' is a polite way of saying it was a pure and simple donation. I knew the money would never be repaid. Which I didn't care at all. Mia is the most adorable little girl in the world! I would never let her suffer because of her father's lack of brain.
Tim swears that at any moment he'll strike it rich. He'll become a millionaire. He even promises, "I'll buy you a beach house and a yacht! And repay all the help you've given me."
At times like these, Julia and I exchange discreet glances. What can we do if Tim is a daydreamer?
Deep down, he's like a brother to me. That's how I act: like the careful brother of a scatterbrain.
I shake my head. If he's calling me so insistently, he must have a good reason. Some problem. I conclude, "Tim needs money. Another 'loan'. Could it be for the rent, Mia's school?"
I call him. He picks up on the first ring, "Conrad! Fucking finally! I was dying to talk to you!" I'm about to ask, 'How much do you need?' but don't have the chance. "You won't believe what happened."
"How about you tell me?" I ask, half ironic, half smiling.
I walk to my office. Place the briefcase on the table and settle into the comfortable leather chair. When Tim tells a story, he gets lost in the details. This call is going to be long.
I start organizing the papers on my desk into piles, according to urgency. But this time, my friend goes straight to the point, "I received an inheritance."
"What do you mean, inheritance?" I ask, surprised. Actually, so surprised that my hand freezes over the papers I'm sorting.
"From an uncle, my mom's brother."
"I didn't even know you had an uncle."
Another surprise from him. And I thought I knew him well! What else is there in my friend's life that I don't know?
Without giving me time to think, he quickly replies, "I didn't know him. I only know his name was Philip. Philip Wiesel. He was much older than my mom. He ran away with a circus when he was young."
'Must have been another crazy one in the family,' I think to myself. I can't resist making a joke, "Now I know who you take after."
He's offended, as if I said something absurd. As if he isn't just like his uncle, capable of dropping everything and running away with a circus. "Don't joke, Conrad, I'm serious."
"Okay, then explain this inheritance story better," I say, as seriously as I can.
"I don't know much either."
And the long story I was expecting, finally comes. His uncle dreamed of the world beyond the place where he lived. One day, a circus came to town. The boy was enchanted. Made friends. And left, against everyone's wishes. He sent news. When the circus was nearby, he visited his parents and sister. The last time Tim's mother saw her brother, my friend was still in university.
"Every now and then, he would send a postcard. And my mother would write to the address Uncle Philip had put on the return label. She even sent him a picture of me because she thought I looked like him. When Uncle Philip wrote back, he said the resemblance was indeed striking. And that was it. We never heard from him again," Tim concludes the story.
"In times of social media and mailing, how can someone go so long without contact? Especially from a brother?"
"Conrad, you know my parents. They don't even know how to use Facebook, let alone other messaging apps. My uncle ran away from home without concluding his studies. He went off to live his life, a nomad, traveling with the circus to many cities. My mom knows this because of the postcards. I doubt he even used the internet for anything."
"What was he? A trapeze artist? A clown?" I want to know.
"I have no idea. Every now and then, my mom would talk about her brother's adventurous spirit. When I was little and saw a circus, even the smaller ones in the neighborhood, I'd think, 'Could this be my uncle's circus?' It was funny because I wanted to meet him. To me, he was a fearless hero!" Tim let's out a low chuckle. I'm struck by how my friend spoke, captivated by his uncle. After all, we've been friends for a long time, and he has never mentioned anything about this, "He never visited us again, living on the road with the circus." he adds.
It's a weird story. 'Why would someone leave an inheritance to a nephew they only knew from a picture?' I wonder. On the other hand, as a lawyer, I've learned that people don't always act as we expect. When it comes to inheritances, even more so. Sometimes the reading of a will is a pleasant surprise for the whole family. Other times, it's the start of a war that destroys sibling relationships over something as trivial as a set of silverware!
What can be behind Tim's inheritance? I feel a chill. I ask, genuinely terrified, "What did he leave you? Don't tell me it's a circus." I'm already picturing my friend swinging from a trapeze, "No, no! Tim, do you plan to run a circus? Live a nomadic life? I'm not going to let you take off into the world with your wife and daughter. You're not going to make Mia live in a circus, going up and down the road!"
Tim is silent. He stays this way for so long that, for a second I think he hung up, "Conrad, why do you always think the worst of me?"
"Should I start listing the reasons?" I reply, smiling.
"I have more sense than you think."
I sigh. People usually have a much better opinion of themselves than reality shows. This is the case with Tim. Despite everything going wrong in his business ventures, he considers himself a shrewd entrepreneur, just a victim of the injustices of the world.
"Just answer me one thing, did you inherit a circus or not?" I insist.
"My uncle didn't leave me a circus, don't worry. It's a farm. My uncle left me a farm!"
"A farm?"
I almost fall out of my chair. I loosen my tie. Can it be that the fortune Tim has always dreamed of has fallen from the sky? Or rather, from a circus?
"Yes. I received a notification. Luckily, my mom hasn't moved out since the last time my uncle came to the city, so it was easy to find me. My uncle had the address."
"Details, details!" I ask, wanting to know more about this surprising news.
"From what I understood, the farm is in a small town called.... um let me see... ah, found it. Wildwalden. That's the name of place."
I frown, "I never heard of it."
"Me neither. But I quickly found on Google maps. it's not very far from here. No more than two hours by car. Imagine me having a farm near the city! What a stroke of luck, Conrad!"
"What type of farm is it?" I ask, trying to ground his excitement.
"Um, I don't know. I'm as curious as you are. But you know, even though my uncle left the farm to me, there's paperwork to take care of. I don't know anyone in Wildwalden, much less a lawyer. Conrad, I need your help."
I don't hesitate,"You know you can count on me, Tim. I'll take care of everything for you. My office is at your disposal." I feel genuinely happy for him. A farm! It can be the solution to his life. The stroke of luck he has always been waiting for! "I'll send one of the office's lawyers there. He'll handle everything."
There's a pause. His tone of voice changes, "I'd like you to go personally."
"Tim, managing a will is time-consuming but not difficult. I'll send one of my lawyers. They're all trustworthy, don't worry." I insist.
"It's not that simple. It seems someone is contesting the will. They haven't filed a lawsuit yet, but I've been informed they will."
"Who?"
"A man. Young. In his 20s."
'It was too easy!' I think to myself, "His son? If this man proves he's your uncle's son, it'll be tough for you. The will could be considered invalid."
"I have no idea who he is. And I don't think it's his son. My mother never mentioned anything about it. I mean, I think my uncle would have told her if he had children... I think."
"Then what is this guy's relationship with your uncle?"
"I don't know anything. But he must have a good and strong reason to contest the will, right?" Tim takes a deep breath before continuing, "Conrad, I really need your help." For the first time in his life, Tim doesn't sound so optimistic. There's anguish in his voice, "This could be the big opportunity of my life. You're always telling me I'm too old to be chasing adventures."
I remain silent. He pauses for a moment. When he sees that I don't say anything, he continues, now in a tone of lamentation, something I've never heard him doing, "I never had a stable job, and I wouldn't get one if I looked for one now. I'm 36 years old now. For the job market, I'm considered old. Even more so without experience in anything specific. You know how it is. All my business ventures have failed. This farm could be the solution to my life. It could be the end of my problems."
It's not just my impression. Tim is different. It seems he has finally realized that life can't be lived as an endless adventure, without responsibility or plans for the next day. And he's right. The job market is cruel to people approaching 40, especially without prior experience.
He's finally aware of reality.
Tim won't lose the farm. Never! Whoever this scammer is, I'll make sure they lose this battle they are trying to enter, "If someone is contesting the will, I'll go myself. Stay calm. Now tell me what you know, even if it's little."
"I called the lawyer handling my uncle's affairs. Mr. Neumann. He was very brief. He only told me what I've just told you. But I'm heading there today."
We talk a bit more. We arrange everything. He sends the coordinates to the town and plan to go the next morning. I need at least a day to inform my partners and get everything organized at the office. I'm sure I can help Tim. I have experience, knowledge, and a good reputation. I've worked on much more difficult cases and always succeeded.
"I'm going there tomorrow," I confirm. "I'll call from the hotel so we can meet. It's best to speak with this Mr. Neumann right away and get a grasp of the situation. Will you call me later today to tell me which hotel you'll stay at? That way we can stay in the same one."
"It seems I can stay at the farm."
"Already?"
"That's what I understood. Mr. Neumann has the keys to the main house. He said I could stay at the farm. He even insisted. It seemed like he wanted to hand over the keys as soon as possible."
"That's strange, don't you think?"
"But it's better for me. I'll go with Julia and Mia, ready to spend some time there."
Something is off in this story, I'm sure of it. If the will is being contested, with the risk of a lawsuit, why does the lawyer want to hand over the keys to Tim? "Did you really get the impression that he was eager for you to stay at the farm?" I ask.
"I did. I was even surprised. But since he's going to give me the keys, I'll stay there. After that, no one will be able to take it away from me," Tim insists, now returning to being my old adventurous friend.
"Be careful. It's not that simple. If you lose the case, you'll have to leave the farm." I warn him.
I'm ready to devote myself completely to this cause. But it's important not to let him think everything will be easy. Otherwise, his head will be in the clouds, as usual.
"Sometimes it's better to be radical. With me living on the farm, it'll be harder for this guy to go against the will."
I know Tim well enough to know that arguing for hours will be pointless. He won't change his mind. He thinks the farm is the big break in his life. All I can do is hope that everything won't go wrong again. I still try to advise him, "This lawyer's attitude is suspicious."
"Conrad, let's plan the trip?"
I give up. If I want to help my friend, I'll have to ensure his rights to the farm. Advice is useless.
We agree that I'll call when I arrive in Wildwalden, "It's better if you already inform the lawyer that I'll arrive tomorrow," I tell him.
Mentally, I decide it will be better to pack a suitcase with clothes for several days. I don't know what awaits me. The only certainty I have is that I need to help Tim.
I hang up the phone, apprehensive. My instincts as a lawyer, accustomed to strange situations, are telling me that there's trouble ahead.
Here I am, involved in a situation that can bring us more headaches than joy. As always, everything in Tim's life is a big knot to untangle.
I continue organising the documents on my desk, starting dealing with the most urgent matters. Meanwhile, in my mind, I'm already planning what to do.
Notifying my partners that I'll be away for a few days is easy. They'll agree to monitor my cases, just as I have done for theirs before. If something requires my presence, they'll let me know. The hard part will be convincing Marco.
My relationship with Marco started two years ago. I'm not in love. Far from it. But I do think about marriage. We get along well, despite his unpredictable mood swings.
I'm not going to lie, I also take pride in being seen with him. He's probably one of most good looking guys I've ever seen. We're both the same height, tho I think he's a bit taller than me. His aunt was a famous fashion designer, which helped him getting into the industry.
He became a male model when he was only 17. His slander body, black hair, tanned skin and delicate features called the attraction of many popular fashion brands. Not long, Marco was the most requested male model for ad campaigns and runways.
I don't know exactly what happened, because nowadays, Marco doesn't have a career. He tells me it's because he's in his 30s now and brands want to work with younger faces. But there are rumours that say otherwise.
We were introduced by his agent, a client of mine. He told me Marco's career died, not because of his age, but because Marco is very temperamental. People found it very difficult to work with him. He used to fight with hairdressers, makeup artists, photographers, stylists, designers. "Sometimes it's like he turns into a completely different person," the agent warned me. "he loses his composure and causes a scene."
The arguments led to gossip, which spread among other agents and fashion producers. The situation came to an end at a fashion week show. Marco started a war because he didn't like the clothes he was supposed to wear on the runway. He wanted to change the pants. He insisted that he would look better in a different pair, which had already been assigned to another model. The shouting match began. The commotion backstage was so great that the other models stopped what they were doing to watch him. Marco's screams could be heard from far away. He was hysterical. The result: he grabbed the pants he was supposed to wear and cut it to pieces. He was never called by any brand or fashion designer again.
To me the story seems exaggerated. With me, Marco is balanced. He does have a strong personality, that's true. And he's e's difficult to deal with sometimes, because he likes to be in control. He wants everything his way. But I've never seen him losing his temper. Yes, he gets upset in certain situations, but that's about it. There's no shouting and no breaking things.
He's elegant, refined. He knows how to control his emotions. And different from the other boyfriends I had, Marco doesn't ask for love. In many ways, he's the ideal partner.
Choosing a partner as if filling a position in a company isn't, deep down, a bad idea. I believe the relationship has a much better chance of succeeding this way, as I can study the compatibility of our moods and how he fits with my habits, among other criteria. I need someone by my side that doesn't constantly asks me for something I can't give them. Marco is perfect for this position.
Also, I must confess, there's a great chemistry between us. Especially in bed. I usually top. And like a said, Marco likes to be in control. He's a power bottom. He likes to dominate and see me beg for release. Which is something I never saw myself leaning to but with him is amazing. I don't think there's a time we both aren't satisfied.
When I met him, his career was already over. He was being called only to do ads in his social media of brands no one ever heard about. Because of that his fees were decreasing.
I'm currently supporting him. It wasn't a planned situation. With so little offers, what he earned wasn't enough to pay the rent for his apartment. So, I started giving him money for small expenses. In no time, I started giving him a fixed allowance. Then, supporting his lifestyle. Finally, a credit card, with him as my dependent.
Not that I mind giving her money, because, as I mentioned, I'm considering marrying him, even without being in love. I'm 36 now, so why not marry and build a family like my friends? I always wanted to have kids. Maybe through a adoption or surrogacy. I've talked to Marco about it and he likes the idea. So why does the decision never go beyond a thought? It's never made.
I never understand the whirlwind of feelings that overtakes me when I think about proposing to Marco. It seems that tying myself to him definitively is a betrayal to someone else.
"I'll forever love you."
The words spoken with such emotion in my dream returns to my thoughts more often than I like, I must admit. They even annoy me.
My lawyer's logical reasoning fights against this dream that interferes with my real, practical life. I try to convince myself that the ideal is to marry Marco soon. But the more I think about the definitive proposal, the more intensely the dream returns. If it wasn't for the recurrence of the stupid dream, of the young man I see being executed almost every night, I'd have already made the decision long ago.
Of all my friends, the only one who doesn't like Marco is Tim. Julia, even less so. We try going out together sometimes. It's always a disaster. They have nothing in common.
Marco always chooses the restaurants. If Tim suggests a place like a local pizzaria or truck food, Marco puts on a look of disdain. Marco choses expensive and elegant restaurants making both Tim and Julia feel uncomfortable with the idea, especially since I'm the one paying the bill. "You already help us so much; I don't want you to spend even more on luxuries," Julia once told me.
Marcos's reaction to the couple was one of the worst, "They're so tacky. I don't know how you can be friends with them."
"Tim has been my best friend since university. And Julia..."
He interrupted me without hesitation, "You can't stay stuck in the past, Conrad. What benefit does this friendship bring you? None! They don't know anyone important, they have no status, they don't move in high circles, they don't get invited to anything... Just to chit-chat? You need to understand that your life has changed. I've left my past behind. I live a different life now!"
I never agreed with that point of view. On the contrary. A person who abandons their roots loses an essential connection with their past. Someone only knows who they're going to be when they respect who they were.
'It's not going to be easy explaining my trip,' I think, when I finally leave the office at night and arrive at his apartment.
My trip will disrupt his plans for the week. He has already confirmed our presence at several events. I'm sure he'll be annoyed when he finds out I have to travel. Especially because of Tim.
Although I have the key, I ring the bell. Marco opens the door.
Just stunning! I can't help but to be in awe at how good looking the man in front of me is. The black custom tailored suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his natural elegance.
"You look great," I compliment, kissing him afterward.
I smile without enthusiasm. Inwardly, I think, 'That suit must have made a dent in the credit card.'
I'm not stingy, but I often think Marco goes beyond the limits. When the credit card bill arrives, it's horrifying. I start opening the email and already feel my heart beating like an old washing machine. I never know what the surprise will be. The only thing I'm sure of is that every month the number of pages on the bill increases. Not that I need to worry about the bank balance. But spending like this, frivolously, exorbitant amounts on a single suit, pair of shoes or watch... Maybe this way of thinking is a remnant of my tough times when I had just enough to get by for the month.
Once again, I regret giving him the card. Of course, I did it to make our lives easier. I expected him to spend within limits. The problem is that everyone has a different notion of limits. And Marco's is very different from mine!
I need to talk to him about his spending. I earn well. Very well. I live well. I can afford whatever I want. I don't need to worry about money. But I can't allow him to keep spending so much on unnecessary things. But this isn't the time to discuss about money management.
Marco is ready to go out, and I need to talk about my trip.
"Let's go?" he says.
I look for the right words. I find it very unpleasant to cancel things this way. I have to prepare for his mood change. I hesitate. I look at him again: all dressed up. Hair meticulously styled into a sleek, side-parted look. Face freshly shaved. Smelling as good as always. And the beautiful pearl white smile on his lips, not really reaching his dark green eyes. There's a slight furrow in between his thick black brows.
"Let's go?" he repeats.
I take a deep breath, and enter the apartment, closing the door behind me, which causes his smile to disappear instantly. "We're not going out tonight, Marco." I say as gently as I can.
"But we agreed to go to Felix's birthday dinner."
"I have to travel early tomorrow. For work," I say all at once.
"Why didn't you say so earlier?" he complains, making that face I know so well.
"I only found out this afternoon. I have to go; it's work."
Marco doesn't usually argue about my job. He knows very well that it's from the firm that the money comes from to pay, among other things, the credit card bill. Even so, he tries to make a case for me to go to the dinner.
"And what are we going to have for dinner? There's nothing here."
"We'll order something. Pizza, just for today."
"What? You know very well I don't eat these types of food."
"Can't you make an exception?" I ask softly. Inside, however, I feel myself growing irritated.
"Why don't we just stop at Felix's dinner party? We can eat a little something there." he says sweetly, putting his hands around my neck and kissing me on the lips, "I promise I'll make up to you later tonight." he whispers in my ears.
A gesture that would've made me give in if it were a different day. Today, however, it makes me sigh and untangle his arms from me. "Marco, you know it's not like that. We arrive there, have to talk to this person and that person, and in the end, we stay for hours. I've already said. I need to wake up early. I'm traveling in the morning."
"But you had nothing planned..." he insists, like a spoiled child.
I don't even have a chance to catch my breath, let alone respond, and he's already reaching out for an invitation on a pile on the sideboard.
"How long do you plan to be away? There's the premiere of that musical on Wednesday, remember? I've already confirmed our presence at the cocktail party. It's going to be a big deal, for making connections."
Marco always makes sure of attending every cocktail party, and event we get invited to. Actually no. *I get invited to. All of these invitations are addressed to me. A lot of the events are organised by former clients of mine. Reason why he wants me to go to Felix's dinner so much. It's because I'm the one who's invited, not him.
Felix is an singer, turned actor. He's popular among young people. I'm sure Marco being at his dinner is an excuse to create content for his social media and give his followers the illusion that his career is still thriving. He still gets to be invited to important events and be around celebrities and rich people alike.
"I really have to travel for work. I don't know how long I'll be gone. The job might take longer."
Marco frowns. He's suspicious. "There's something wrong. What kind of work just popped up like this?"
"Tim received an inheritance. I'm going to take care of the paperwork for him."
"Tim!" he groans, "I'm going to miss a dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants in the country because of Tim?"
"It's an inheritance he received," I repeat, feeling tired of this conversation, "He needs me to check all the documentation and handle the paperwork."
"And I'm sure you'll do it for free." he complains, crossing his arms, annoyed, "If it were an important job, fine, I'd understand. But leaving me here alone because of Tim is too much!"
"Marco, not everything in life is about money. My friendship with Tim is old and..."
"Please. I'm tired of hearing that during uni you ate at his house from time to time. Honestly, were those the most expensive meals in the world that you have to pay for it till this day?" I take a deep breath, trying to control whatever is boiling inside me. I loosen my tie, and step further into the apartment. He follows me, still complaining, "I don't like Tim's energy. He brings us down, Conrad. You're a lawyer who have famous and important people as clients, why waste your time with this nonsense?"
"Tim received an inheritance, Marco, and I want to help him," I insist, "It might be a chance to fix his life. It's a farm. If it's good, he'll be able to get organized."
Marco laughs, somewhat ironically, "Fine! If you want to help, help. Send one of the lawyers from your office. Why does it have to be you, a partner, who wastes time with the paperwork for a small farm?"
From an objective point of view, he's right. But in life, you also have to consider many other things. My friendship with Tim comes first. I'm concerned about the guy who wants to contest the will. I have a feeling I should go in person. "I prefer to go myself."
"You're going to ruin our week and leave me here alone?"
I sigh. I walk to him and this time, I'm the one who puts his arms around my neck, "Look, if everything goes well, I'll be back in time for the musical premiere."
"Promise?"
"I won't promise. I'll try, but I can't guarantee." I smile at him.
With great difficulty, I finally manage to end the argument. We end up ordering sushi, but the atmosphere is heavy. We eat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
As soon as we finish dinner, I say goodbye and go home. In a bad mood.
I brush my teeth, take a shower and watch some TV. I delay turning the lights off when I go to bed. I'm afraid of sleeping. I dread the inevitable dream, not wanting to face once again the scene of the young man dying, suffering so intensely for that stranger.
But I need to rest, so I lay down.
Surprisingly, I fall asleep almost immediately.
Even more surprisingly, I don't have any dreams. Only later I find out that it's a sign.