Chapter 41: A funeral.

It had been the first time after the Shaftum meeting that I had been in the same room with Alain. Our eyes crossed paths a few times during the funeral rites. His were evasive. Mine were distant, but direct. Having not much to lose anymore, I felt as if everything was a sincere goodbye. The one with the offending truths, breaking ceremony.

A few know people were there as well. A big absentee: Margo was missing from the funeral. I never knew why.

After we were done honoring the memory of Megan, and poured out our shock by her untimely death in the many ways we had learned, he approached me.

“I need to talk to you personally.” —he softly delivered.

Hesitantly, I accepted. I followed him to his car, a classic red convertible with out-of-state plates. He was very proud of it. He opened the passenger's door for me.

Once seated, he started talking. We weren't driving anywhere.

“I need to tell you. I'm very sorry.”

“Why? Are you talking about Megan? Has this anything to do with me?”

“I am sorry for what I did. To you.”

“What did you do —to me?” —I knew what he did to me. I wanted him to say it. To acknowledge it.

“I guess... I did not treat you well.” —he paused.

“I guess... I did not respect our friendship.” —he continued.

I began to be a bit fed up by his intentional ambiguity.

“So here you are asking me to forgive, but you can't tell me what is that I have to forgive?” —He slowly pursed his lips left to right, and back. He remained silent while repeating the motion.

“Were you the one that started the campaign to discredit me? Were you the one that brought up the accusations of plagiarism? Did you keep spreading rumors until you destroyed me?” —I stated inquisitively.

That was a mistake. He should have been the one saying it. He was a fucking coward, giving a half-assed apology without even daring to say what was he apologizing for.

He didn't react. He was nervous.

“Were you, Alain?” —I loudly inquired.

“No! I was not!” —he finally blurted. He followed with:

“Look, I'm just sorry. I should have protected you.”

No explanations were given in that car. It was Alain's egotistical façade —begging for forgiveness so he could feel better about himself, now that the thought of mortality had passed through his mind.

What good could that bring me, if he refused to give an explanation? What worth had his attitude?

At most, he would portray his sins as inaction. I knew that his sins went much deeper: that he triggered it all, and that his defense was to blame others.

Liar.

Alain leading a hoste antiga, realizing he had become a prisoner of his own ambitions.