#dainasinger

dainasinger

One year

I’m not going anywhere, täubchen, he had said to her that night before kissing her gently on the lips. Promise? she breathed, leaning in to kiss him again, feeling the slight scruff on his chin against hers before she pulled away. She remembered the small crinkle in his eyes as he grinned at her. Have I ever lied to you? he chuckled, kissing her back.

Then he was gone, stalking away like a graceful panther and into the shadows. 

This time, it wasn’t her choice. It was fate’s and Victoria didn’t know whether to blame herself or fate or even anything for his sudden departure. It was cruel, to be reunited for a few short years but only to have him snatched away without warning. 

Victoria remembered crumpling to the floor when she received the news. She remembered laying there, unable to move or feel, unable to fathom any form of comprehensible communication to anyone at all.  In the distance there was the sound of wailing but Victoria couldn’t lift a finger to attend to it. She couldn’t remember how she got off her position but Victoria did vaguely remember Melaney helping her up, stagger to the bathroom and eventually the bathroom. She vaguely remember pushing the redhead away and laid in the shower stall with water pounding over her body for hours. And by the time she had enough strength to lift her limbs, her skin had wrinkled, her throat was sore from all of the crying. 

He had been a constant for her. Despite their ups and downs, their eventual separation and reunion, Daina Reinhardt was one of a kind. She sat through his funeral unable to speak to anyone, not even her brother or his family. Her fingers trembled as she stroked his cold skin one last time, her tears soaking against his casket before Vincent pulled her away before she could breakdown.

"You can’t keep being like this, Victoria," pleaded Vincent with his dark floppy hair blowing in the wind. He had found her seated in front of his marker, reading the inscriptions of his tombstone over and over again.

Daina Reinhardt, Beloved son, brother, husband and father. 

"You have to let go."

She remained silent even though irritation nipped at her. “I let him go once, Vincent. That was the biggest mistake of my life.” The hushed silence settled between them as Vincent decided not to argue.

"Think of Olivia. She needs you.”

At the mention of their daughter, moisture glistened over her dark hazel hues. The toddler wouldn’t remember the times Daina had played the piano for her, she wouldn’t remember all those times he had carried her on his shoulders, attempting to sing a nursery rhyme. Olivia would remember none of that.

And Victoria could only feel pain. 

Five years

"Why are we here?" questioned the little girl as she twirled the end of her long braided hair. "We’re here to visit gramps right?" she asked again, looking up to the tall woman beside her. "Mommy, why are you silent?" she asked again, tugging onto the woman’s blouse. "Are you thinking about him again?"

Wordlessly, Victoria nodded. They stood in front of a green field adjacent to the alma mater Daina and herself had attended all those years ago. This was where it all began, she thought to herself, smiling softly. Fond memories of them walking the grounds, talking about anything and everything with their hands clasped together, flooded her mind. 

"I know Uncle Isaac has told you all he knew about your father," she spoke softly to Olivia, fingers running through her own dark mane before reaching out to stroke the girl’s cheek. "But I guess, this time, you’d have to hear it from me," she said, pulling the girl along to walk towards where Daina had first introduced himself to her. 

Ten Years

"Mom, are you sure about this?"

Victoria nodded. “Of course, I am.” She swiped a finger delicately against her nose to make sure her powder didn’t smudge before checking her reflection in the mirror. 

"Okay, I just don’t want you to think that we have to do this against your will."

In truth, Victoria had been reluctant. Attending social gatherings and parties have been part of her career but ever since his passing, she couldn’t bring herself to one without feeling as if she was betraying him. “I’m fine, täubchen,” she replied, turning to Olivia. She couldn’t hide the pained smile she was sporting.

"You deserve some laughter and joy, you know. Fussing over me and working too hard, is not good for you." For a 13 year old girl, Olivia was mature and quick-witted. 

Victoria simply nodded. “I know, sweetheart. ”

“He would have wanted it for you too.”

The words came soft and almost inaudible but Victoria had heard it nonetheless. There was no need for an explicit identification of who the ‘he’ was. Her chest tightened, her heart ached. Yet, Victoria managed to not spill a tear.

"Now why would I need someone else giving me laughter and joy when you’re already doing that for me?" she retorted, putting her hands on her slender hips. She feigned an annoyed expression at the young girl before wrinkling her nose.

"Because I wouldn’t want Dad to think that I am also the one that makes you cry too."

The lump in her throat was painful as she watched the young girl shifting her weight from one leg to another, casting her gaze down to the floor.

Wordlessly she bend down slightly, meeting Olivia’s eyes. “Täubchen, you’re the only reason why I am still here.” The pad of her thumb stroked against her daughter’s cheeks. “I love you.”

War es vor oder nach dem ich auf der Straße stieß sie?