Emily was preparing for her wedding. James had proposed to her in the most beautiful way—he invited her on a romantic date, gave her a stunning bouquet of orchids, and presented a diamond ring, kneeling on one knee. Nearby, violinists played a heart-wrenching melody that brought tears to Emily’s eyes and those of every woman in the restaurant. It was so sweet…
And Emily, crying tears of joy, said “Yes!” to him, while everyone around clapped warmly, congratulating the beautiful couple…
Though she had already said “yes” to him the day before, over the phone, nearly ruining the moment for both of them. Emily had been visiting her hometown to see her friends and stopped by to see that fortune-teller who had once predicted her imminent death…
But either he lied, or he was mistaken, or he got it wrong…
This time, he predicted a swift marriage, children, and happiness in her personal life. It turned out that on that late evening when Emily saved a young mother and her baby from death, nearly dying herself in the process, she had changed her fate, canceling the death foretold by the first reading. Whether to believe it or not—Emily was still unsure. But one way or another, she was alive, and a happy future awaited her…
And the exciting wedding preparations! Everything spun into motion: planning, organizing the celebration, shopping, and more…
Emily longed to return to her beloved hometown soon. Her friends were there, her Vicky, who was practically a sister, a kindred spirit. And Mary and Lydia, Vicky’s childhood friends, with whom Emily had grown very close. In this new city, she still hadn’t adjusted and felt like an outsider…
James planned to transfer with Emily. He was renting here, and so was Emily. All that remained was for his boss to approve the transfer. As she made her to-do list, Emily drifted into memories—of how she and James had met under rather shocking circumstances. Emily had nearly died, stepping in front of his car. That late evening, she had pulled a stroller with a baby out from under the wheels and pushed it off the road. The baby had ended up in the street because a thug with a knife attacked the mother, who, nearly fainting, let go of the stroller’s handle. After the accident, James visited Emily in the hospital. He helped her get to physical therapy when she was in a wheelchair after surgery, struggling to maneuver it…
He helped her walk with a leg broken in two places, casted and using crutches. At first, Emily was rude to him, pushing him away. She shouted for him to leave her alone…
A couple of times, she threw the bags of fruit he brought her, and oranges bounced across the ward like cheerful orange balls. He said then:
— Maybe tomorrow will be a better day… I’ll come back tomorrow.
— Get lost, and don’t come back! — Emily shouted after him.
The nurse, Ellie, gathered the oranges onto the nightstand, wiped up the puddle from a burst juice carton, looked at Emily reproachfully, and said:
— It’s not my business, of course… Maybe he hurt you deeply, or he’s guilty of something you can’t forgive… But maybe it’s worth trying? He’s a really good person! He paid for your treatment, a private room. A rehab specialist comes here just for you to get you back on your feet faster! He arranged that too…
— He paid? — Emily was stunned. She had assumed it was Vicky…
— Yep. I’m telling you, a really good person! He sat by your side in the ICU for days, Emily. Such love… Did you two fight? Did he cheat? — Ellie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Emily snorted:
— Love? What love? He’s the one who hit me.
Ellie threw up her hands:
— Oh, dear Lord! No wonder he’s bringing oranges, the jerk… I was wondering! You should sue him!
— No need. Actually, it’s my fault. I stepped in front of his car, and in the wrong place.
Ellie blinked, then waved her hand:
— Figure it out yourselves. I’ve got injections to give.
At the door, Ellie couldn’t resist and glanced back:
— But maybe think about… you know, making up? He’s a good guy. And such a looker—everyone in the ward turns to stare!
— Well, I’m not bad myself, you know! — Emily tried to flirtatiously toss her hair but met bandages instead.
Some heartthrob’s lady, all bandaged up, bruised, and battered…
Then he didn’t show up, and she cried all night and into the day, thinking she’d gotten her wish and he’d never come back…
Ellie comforted her, her face screaming, “You blew it. You chased away a great guy.” But aloud, she asked:
— Why’d you push him away if you’re crying now?
Emily mumbled into her pillow:
— I think I’m going to die soon. That’s why! A fortune-teller told me. Well, a male one. Said I was stolen from fate, and it’s time to pay the price… Something like that. I remembered him, by the way! Saw him on TV, a finalist on one of those psychic battle shows!
Now Ellie’s face screamed, “What an idiot!” She shrugged and said:
— Surviving something like that and still waiting for death because some fortune-teller said something? Or a male one… Even if the whole cast of that psychic show said it! Fate’s not dumb enough to let someone steal from it! You and your finalist made that up… So get that nonsense out of your head! Turn around, pants down, it’s time for your shot!
All day, Emily thought about what Ellie said and was amazed. The girl was right! So simple: fate isn’t dumb enough to be stolen from! She really needed to ditch the nonsense. The next evening, James showed up. Emily awkwardly tried to thank him for everything and apologize for her rudeness. Then they started seeing each other—Emily still hobbling on crutches in the hospital corridor. And now, Emily was fully recovered, her fractures healed, bruises gone, and her limp vanished. They were planning their wedding. Emily rushed around from early morning, tackling a mountain of tasks. Vicky was supposed to come help pick out a dress, but Mary arrived instead.
— How’s Vicky? Is she okay? — Emily worried.
— What could happen to her? Relax, no panic! She’ll be at the wedding, and Lydia too. They’re both super pregnant. I talked them out of traveling and running errands in their condition. Let them focus on their babies, and we’ll handle the dress! Ready? — Mary shook her curls and opened the door, hurrying the bride along.
After driving across half the city and visiting several bridal salons, Emily and Mary found it—the perfect princess dress. Just the right amount of sparkle, a flowing train, and a tastefully open back. Fit for a ball in a fairytale castle! Mary clapped her hands:
— Perfect!
They brought the purchases home, and Mary urged Emily to try the dress on again.
— Show it off! Let me admire it! I’d beg to try it on myself, but first, I’m married, and second, you’re my best friend. I won’t wear your dress before the wedding, not even for a second…
As Emily twirled in the dress before the mirror and an excited Mary, James walked into the apartment. Emily had moved in with him—they decided living in two places was inconvenient, financially and time-wise. James froze in awe. Emily paled. Mary started pushing him out of the room, saying:
— Out you go, young man! It’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding!
James retreated to the kitchen, and Mary returned to find Emily near tears, stuffing the dress into its box, the fabric spilling out like snowy foam.
— What’s wrong? Stop it! It’s no big deal! You were just in the dress, no veil, no shoes. Not the full outfit. It doesn’t count!
— Mary, we won’t get married… — Emily whispered, almost crying.
— Oh, come on! Why not? Who’s always been the toughest of us all, the steadfast tin soldier? Always scoffed at fortune-telling, called psychics nonsense… And now you’re suddenly believing in old superstitions? — Mary shook her curls and dragged Emily to the kitchen, to James.
They set the table together, ate dinner as a trio, but the thought of the bad omen stuck in Emily’s mind like a splinter…
When almost everything was ready, the restaurant prepaid, and only the invitations left to hand out, James… suddenly called off the wedding. It turned out his ex-girlfriend, whom he’d broken up with nearly a year ago, was pregnant with his child.
— How? You didn’t know? Or did her pregnancy just kick in after some incubation period? — Emily snapped.
— Em, don’t mock me. It hurts enough already…
— It hurts you, James? YOU? — Emily pressed her palms to her eyes and groaned: — Damn it, I can’t even leave… Why did I give up the lease on my apartment!
James confessed what happened. Shortly before Emily’s discharge from the hospital, Irene came to pick up her remaining things. Specifically, a painting, a wall clock, and a floor scale she desperately needed. She couldn’t function without them…
They had a heart-to-heart over a bottle of wine she brought. The talk stretched past midnight…
He woke up with a splitting headache but thought nothing of it. Just overdid it, happens to everyone…
He rarely drank much, but that time he overdid it…
The events of that night were a complete blank—he’d been too drunk…
And now, on the eve of James and Emily’s wedding, Irene announced she was pregnant and had no intention of ending it.
— Twins, Emily, you understand… It’s a dead end. — James groaned, looking at Emily with the eyes of a beaten dog. — I can’t abandon them, I can’t do that to my kids…
Emily’s gaze fell on the box with the wedding dress. She shook her head:
— That’s it. I told you we wouldn’t get married…
James started saying something about Emily staying in the apartment as long as she needed until she left, and more, but Emily exclaimed:
— God, if you can leave, just go already!!!
He apologized and quietly closed the door behind him. Emily sat on the floor in the middle of the living room, legs stretched out. A silence so heavy fell over her, it was as if she’d gone deaf…
Then Emily figured out what to do. How many blows could fate deal her? It felt like all the misfortunes in the world were measured out just for her, though they’d be enough to split among ten people. Her dad died so young. He could’ve lived and lived…
He never took his daughter to the circus to see clowns and acrobats, never carried her on his shoulders, so high her heart froze with fear…
Then her grandma died—stricken with cancer, she faded too fast. Then her mom. Her beautiful mom, whom people turned to admire on the street, turned into a ghastly yellow skeleton with gray lips and dull eyes before she died. She cried nearly dry tears, begging her daughter’s forgiveness for not shielding her from growing up in an orphanage—she hadn’t had the strength to live longer…
No relatives remained on her dad’s side either—his mother couldn’t survive her son’s death, and her husband couldn’t survive his wife’s…
Poor Emily was left like a lone blade of grass in a field, with everyone dear to her mowed down by some heartless hand.
The apartment after her mom’s death belonged to Emily, her sole heir. When she turned eighteen and left the orphanage, she decided to manage her property like an adult. A sly realtor came along, convincing her to sell the prime downtown apartment profitably—why did she need such a big place alone?
— Enough for a cozy smaller place and tuition… I’ll handle the paperwork! Don’t worry about a thing.
Naive Emily trusted him and paid the price—she was swindled. She got no money, just a laughable deposit. Reclaiming the apartment was impossible—while the realtor strung her along, the place was resold multiple times. Then the realtor vanished without a trace.
Later, Emily learned that as an orphan, she was entitled to benefits and didn’t need to pay for tuition at all. She chose a university, enrolled, and studied. Then she met Vicky. And later, Vicky’s friends Mary and Lydia, who became like family, and they’ve been friends for years. But when she tried to build her own family—another failure…
People live, love, make friends, overcome problems, and enjoy life, but Emily…
Emily dumped James’s medicine cabinet onto the carpet and methodically took every pill she found, washing them down with cognac from the bar. James had quite a collection, including several packs of sleeping pills—perfect for Emily’s situation. Then she felt her dark, viscous consciousness slipping away, and she was almost glad. Finally, it would all… come to a logical end! Emily curled up on the carpet, either falling asleep, passing out, or dying altogether. Mary found her, plagued by a gnawing unease since the previous evening. She couldn’t reach Emily but hesitated to barge into her friend and her fiancé’s home in the middle of the night. What if her unease was nothing, and people were sleeping, especially those with work in the morning? She barely waited until morning, then rushed over from her hotel by taxi. She rang and knocked—nothing. Wondering where Emily could be, Mary called James, who said she might have left because they’d broken up. Oh, really? Not a fight, but a full breakup!
On the eve of the wedding. Finally, in complete confusion, before leaving, Mary thought to try the unlocked front door…
Mary found her friend lying on the carpet. She slapped Emily’s cheeks, rubbed her cold hands, and sobbed until the ambulance arrived. Emily ended up back in the same hospital where they’d fixed her fractures, but in a different ward. There was a chance she’d be sent to a psychiatric unit, but Mary swore it was just a mistake with the sleeping pills. Emily had a bad headache and mixed things up. The doctor looked at Mary intently and said:
— I’ll pretend I believe you, and you’ll pretend you’re certain that bucket of pills in her stomach, swimming in two glasses of cognac, was purely accidental. Because of a headache… Does she have family?
— Me. — Mary said firmly. — I mean… I’m like family. She has no one else. She had a fiancé, but they broke up…
— She lost a child. She’s sleeping now and will until tomorrow, so go home and rest.
Emily floated under the ceiling, tumbling in the air, delighting in the sensation of flight and a newfound lightness. She was learning to control her movements. Thinking of Mary, and there she was, above her. Mary was so funny with her curls…
But her eyes were sad. Tearful. Why? Emily felt so good! Recalling something, Emily thought of herself. And… that pale, thin thing with tubes in her veins—was that her? But Emily didn’t pity that motionless thing—it wasn’t her! Suddenly, she saw a corridor, then a bright, spacious hall…
And there were her mom, dad, grandma, and grandparents…
Emily rushed toward them, but someone pushed her back, barring her way… And Emily came to. She wished she hadn’t! Because what she learned…
Emily screamed like a wounded animal for so long they had to sedate her urgently. Mary took two more weeks off work, claiming a dying relative. They let her go without question. She stayed by Emily’s side, supporting her as best she could. She lied to Vicky and Lydia, saying everything was fine, the dress was bought, and they were swamped with tasks…
Emily was too busy but would call soon…
And Mary swallowed tears, watching Emily sleep under the influence of medication.
— Mary, why should I live? It feels like I’ve died several times already, and they keep resuscitating my corpse, forcing it to move and creak again… I don’t understand why… — Emily rasped when she came to.
Mary stroked her hand, trying to comfort her, but then they sent a therapist to Emily. Good—a professional would find the right words…
And wouldn’t break down at the wrong moment. Mary left the room and leaned against the cold wall. Poor Emily. So much had fallen on her—enough for ten people…
She lost her child due to severe intoxication. She hadn’t known she was pregnant when she swallowed all that poison from the medicine cabinet…
James died. He was in a car with his ex… what was her name… Irene, maybe…
Now her beloved man was gone, and so was her child…
And as Emily kept repeating—there was no point in all this struggling…
Mary couldn’t think of how to help. When Emily started recovering, Mary visited Ellie in the trauma ward and begged her to ask the pathologist if the recent crash victim, admitted with James, was pregnant. Ellie had once mentioned knowing that employee well.
— Why do you need to know? — Ellie asked, surprised.
— I’m seeing and imagining things. I need to know for sure… or I’ll think I’m losing my mind…
By whatever means, Ellie found out and shared the secret with Emily: the woman wasn’t pregnant. She’d deceived James. He died unaware…
But Emily felt relieved—she wasn’t going crazy. That persistent whisper in her ears—“I was deceived, Irene isn’t pregnant”—wasn’t schizophrenic hallucinations. It was Emily’s new state after clinical death. Then Emily was discharged and, to her boss’s bewilderment, quit. She moved back to her hometown, as she’d planned before. She was going to visit someone…
For the third time in her life, Emily stepped out at the right apartment building. She paid the taxi driver and went up to the right floor. She placed her finger on the doorbell but couldn’t press it, as if she’d forgotten how. She started doubting, standing before the door—was it worth coming at all? The door swung open. There stood a familiar dark-haired man in black silk pants, a black silk robe, and slippers with curled toes like Little Muck’s. His eyes seemed lined with kohl, like an Eastern woman’s—but it wasn’t makeup. He just had naturally thick, dark lashes. He hadn’t changed, nor had his apartment. The same armchairs in the front room, the same deep burgundy curtain over the door to the dimly lit room where candles flickered and incense burned. Where a ladle of wax always warmed on sand, and an ancient deck of cards, wrapped in a green cloth, lay in the secretaire…
But his guest had changed so much that the man flinched at first. It was as if not a year had passed since their last meeting, but a decade—at least for her. The woman looked thinner, as if dusted with ash. Her hair was dull, her eyes faded. He’d predicted love, marriage, and family for her… but people with those things don’t look so broken…
— My name’s Sebastian. We never properly met…
— Emily.
— Emilia?
Emily shook her head:
— No. Just Emily. It’s in my passport…
— Come in, Emily. We have much to talk about. Including diagnostics. By the way, cards and wax aren’t my only tools. Runes, gypsy cards, Indian beans, a crystal ball, even seal bones from a Chukchi shaman… And also—I have coffee. — He gave a conspiratorial smile.
She nodded:
— You know, Sebastian, coffee sounds good. But not for reading grounds. I might surprise you, but I can say everything without tools. No beans or bones. It’s easy, it turns out! The hard part is staying silent when you want to speak, but the person doesn’t want to hear…
— If you don’t need my prediction advice—what are you doing here?
— I need an answer—how do you live with it?
— Really need it? You’re already living with it. And you’ve adapted… — Sebastian smiled knowingly.
Then Sebastian ground beans and brewed his guest exquisite coffee. They drank from Turkish cups and talked, and talked…
He had to cancel two scheduled sessions and offer refunds. Even paid for their taxis. Emily told him everything about herself, from childhood. About her losses, which outnumbered her victories. She lost her family. Her beloved. Her child. She didn’t break, even after all she’d endured, though she tried once…
And when she realized she could now read every person like an open book, she knew she needed to talk to the one person who could understand her. Because he was the same. Sebastian smiled, not noticing he’d switched to “you”:
— My gift opened up, like yours, after I survived clinical death. Or rather, it was probably always there. That was just when the connection happened… me with myself…
Then he asked:
— What about your friends? Have you cut them off? They’re really good people!
— No, why would I? It’s just… I’ve had so many losses, I’d rather keep my distance. So I’m not… a virus carrying some destructive program, God forbid. We’ll meet, but not as often… They’re truly wonderful. Amazing!
Then Emily stood:
— Sorry, I should go.
— In a hurry?
— No. I’m free until Friday. — Emily joked, quoting a famous line. — It’s just so late… Lately, I lose track of time… It drags, then flashes by…
— Do you have somewhere to go? Emily smirked.
And Sebastian said:
— Stay?
And Emily stayed. Some time later, they moved to a village. They chose a small house at the village’s edge, and Sebastian bought it. The house seemed to have been waiting for them. They heated it with firewood Sebastian chopped, while Emily helped stack it. They grew a large garden of rare trees and flowers, which Emily ordered from all over! They swam in the river year-round. When it froze, Sebastian cut a large ice hole, big enough to dive in and swim back and forth with two strokes in the crystal-clear water. Villagers often saw barefoot tracks in the snow by the river and good-naturedly twirled a finger at their temples: what a strange pair had settled in their village…
But everyone goes mad in their own way, as long as it doesn’t harm others…
And the pair even benefited others: helpful advice…
They loved lighting a bonfire under a star-strewn sky, cuddling together and watching sparks fly into the darkness. Sebastian stopped fortune-telling. But sometimes he caught Emily quietly giving advice to local women, who nodded and thanked her, hand on heart. Then, from time to time, a basket of eggs appeared on their porch. A jar of fresh milk. A bundle of homemade sausage… A wheel of homemade cheese…
— You’re telling fortunes without cards? Think I don’t notice? — he asked Emily once, when a bowl of ripe black grapes materialized on their outdoor table as thanks for her advice.
— I’m not telling fortunes, just suggesting… — Emily smirked.
— People need the truth when they want it. Cards, by the way, don’t always tell the truth… I know from experience.
He knew it too. For instance, he’d watched Emily’s fate—it changed drastically three times… Try figuring out if it was planned that way or rewritten along the way…
Maybe she changed her fate herself, and the cards later reflected what she’d rewritten… Sebastian walked over and gently draped a shawl over her shoulders:
— It’s chilly this morning.
She smiled and patted his hand… Emily was right—cards don’t always tell the truth. Then again, cards don’t say anything. A person just knows how to read the world around them, often without cards. What do you think?
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