where no one knows my name
#12
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Geneva listened, shocked into silence as Jefferson continued speaking. He seemed hesitant at first, the words half-hearted as they fell from his lips. But soon the story, and his sorrow, began to take form in Geneva's mind. She tried to derive their meaning, to decipher the sadness in his halting sentences. The story unfolded before her as her lime green eyes sank to stare at his blurry reflection in the water. The reflection of his single green eye wavered as the water rippled and moved around their feet. Salt collected in her lungs, cold air expanding in her chest as she let Jefferson's story enfold her.

It seemed as though he could hardly believe what he was saying, or perhaps he didn't want to believe it. But Geneva could feel the truth in his words, could feel the impact of a staggering realization that had with all likelihood turned the Patriarch's world upside down. For a moment, his voice trailed off in the middle of a sentence. Geneva wasn't sure if he was having trouble collecting his thoughts, or if he was hiding something. She turned her head to the side for a moment, regarding his ever-changing reflection, and decided not to pursue that particular thread of questioning. His confession was a huge breakthrough. She felt as though something had broken open inside of him, something that would needed a delicate touch. She had to be careful; she didn't know if he would ever feel safe enough to open up like this again.

When he smiled, it was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She saw the expression light his face, just for a moment, before his self doubt clouded his features once more. She crept forward, and hesitantly reached out for him. She walked until her feet intercepted the image of his face reflected in the water, causing ripples all around them. She touched her nose to the side of his face briefly, closing her eyes for a moment to press her face against his before she drew back to look into his face. "I don't doubt that your children are beautiful," she said. "You're not ugly, Jefferson." How could he believe that?

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