They had just driven into a small town and out of it . Now on the driveway , they finally reached a red three-story mansion . Jean turned off the engine as they headed into the mansion .
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The mansion had a perfectly round door like a porthole , painted oceanic blue , with a golden brass knob in the exact middle . The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall , similar to a tunnel , a comforting one with pink paneled walls , and floors tiled and carpeted , provided with wooden chairs and tables . It was the sort of mansion that you never seemed to come to the end of , and it was full of adventitious places . It was a fine old house .
Jean showed Lin around the house with such eagerness that he seemed to be genuinely happy for once in his life -- Jean ’ s parents passed away when he was very little , and the only way to deal with the depression caused by this was to be with Lin , and only with Lin could he find true serenity in life .
The two spent the happiest times of their lives as their relationship transcended time and space and transformed into something far beyond their expectations . One night , Jean sat on the edge of his bed , smoking a cigarette before they turned the lights on . Lin lay in her own bed , watching her closely to read the meaning of the confused look in Jean ’ s eyes . Jean was hoping that Lin would let him sleep tonight in the same bed with her . He wanted to kiss her , to feel her , to imitate her , to channel her , and to be vulnerable . Jean was looking at Lin . Then he walked toward Lin and kissed her , as if they had kissed a thousand times before . Jean touched her head , just behind her ear .
“ I ’ ve never loved anyone the way I loved you ,” Jean whispered to Lin ’ s ear . “ Me either . Now we know how ,” Lin replied , softly .
Jean turned the lights off . In the darkness , two passionate shadows made their ways through the hopeless to have one last touch of each other . His hand drifted down her throat , moved across her chest . His hand lingered over her hips , drawing all the way down the line of her thigh . Lin closed her eyes to feel every complex emotion , to soak everything in . Lin pulled out the lights as she thought to herself : why did people always talk of death and heaven when there was so much happiness in this world ? Their naked bodies touched perfectly , as if the stars aligned . They kissed each other on this bed of roses as the colorful perfume of the red roses infuse the everlasting , invigorating fragrance of blossoms in the springtime of their ever-growing memories .
They gave each other the most breathtaking , the most unconditional of gifts . FEBRUARY 1943 - MARCH 1943
A clear morning , a ribbon of daylight showered upon Lin ’ s face . Eyes still shut , Lin reached out for Jean , but Jean was not there . There was not a single sound uttered from the bathroom . She lifted her head and checked the clock - it was eight in the morning . Lin sat up in the bed . There , seated in an armchair in the semidarkness , was Mrs . Lam-Wei , whom also worked at St . Petersburg ’ s department store . Silence lasted for a few seconds .
“ Jean ’ s gone ?” Lin asked in confusion . “ Early this morning ,” Lam-Wei answered . “ How did you get here ? Did he send you here ?” “ Yes . Jean called me .” “ Is he coming back ?” Lin asked . “ No . Perhaps never ,” Lam-Wei said . “ Why ? This is all my fault .” “ Nonsense . But he did leave this letter to you .”
Mrs . Lam-Wei handed Lin a letter . She then tore it open . It was a long letter , and the ink was pale blue on the first few pages , and dark on the others . She read the first page , then went back and read it again . Tears kept rolling down her face as she read it .
“ My angel , my darling ,