[Novel] At Feuille

"Hey, this tree."
Just before entering the cake shop, my wife stopped. She was pointing at the base of a large tree towering next to the shop's sign, which read "Feuille."
"It has a sprout."
It really does, I nodded. As if to hurry the long-awaited spring, a tiny sprout had popped out.
"It's new life, isn't it?"
"Maybe it's new cells."
We looked up at the great tree, remembering half a year ago.

It was my birthday, around the time summer was turning into autumn. We were walking to Feuille to buy a birthday cake. Along the way, my wife spoke to me in bits and pieces about the miscarriage she had been diagnosed with the day before.
"You know, they said it couldn't be helped. Most early miscarriages like this are due to chromosomal abnormalities, and they happen at a certain rate."
Yeah, I said, squeezing her hand back. It was cold. When her emotions were stirred, my wife's hands were always cold.
"They said it's just how nature works."
Yeah, I nodded. Knowing the happy look on my wife's face when she found out she was pregnant, I could only warm her hands.
Suddenly, she stopped. She was looking at a cicada lying on its back by the side of the road, chirping weakly. "Oh," I said.
"It's already autumn, but it's still here. It's a late-bloomer cicada."
"This cicada... it lived the same summer as us, didn't it?"
The chirping sound grew faint. That's right. This life would soon end. My wife and I held our breath and watched it.
You know, my wife began.
"I'm scared. Even though I'm this happy right now, the fact that you and I will grow old. The fact that everything is heading toward an end."
That's true, I agreed.
"I think about that sometimes, too."
"But I thought that if we had a child... if a child of yours and mine were born, then the fear of aging and death might be eased a little."
But I don't know, she said. It was only for a short time, but after carrying a life in this body, I'm not sure anymore. Maybe the fear would increase. As long as life is there, perhaps the fear can never be wiped away.
The cicada went quiet and stopped moving. My wife crouched down, put her hands together, and started walking again.
"I like to paint, you know? I'm working on one right now."
"Yeah."
"Sometimes I wonder. This painting will disappear someday, too. It might outlive me, but it will definitely disappear eventually. Even so, why am I painting this now?"
That may be true, but, I started to say, when my wife stopped dead in her tracks. It was in front of the tree at Feuille.
"Oh. The leaves are already starting to fall."
Following my wife's gaze as she looked up, sure enough, there were withered leaves falling one by one in the wind.
"Just a little while ago, they were enjoying the dazzling summer."
My wife's hand, the one not holding mine, was placed on her lower abdomen. The place where life had been. We bought a cake at Feuille, still burdened by our sadness.

That night, we had a modest celebration and ate the cake together. The type of cake was a Sachertorte, my wife's favorite. It was a staple. It was like a rule for us, unchanged since we started dating. Whether it was my birthday or hers, we always put the number of candles for our age on a Sachertorte and celebrated.
"I'm being hospitalized tomorrow evening, so I have to eat something delicious while I can."
I calmed my wife, who was stuffing her face with cake as if to say this was her chance.
"You'll be back the day after tomorrow. Couldn't you save it until then?"
"It might go bad by then, you know."
My wife, who had been eating with such vigor, threw in the towel sooner than expected.
"I can't do it. I can't eat any more. I used to be able to eat a whole cake when I was younger."
"That's just how it is. I can't eat like I used to either."
So this is what it means to get older, my wife muttered sadly.

"Hey."
At night, in bed, I spoke to my wife's back. It was clear she wasn't asleep. Her shoulders were trembling quietly.
"You know, I love your paintings. It's true that those paintings might not last forever. Maybe I'm the only one who will ever see them. Even though they were born, they might return to the earth someday. Even so, I love your paintings."
When I placed my hand on her back, my wife let out a long breath.
"Before I met you, I was very lonely, and I thought that if I met my soulmate, the empty hole in my heart would be perfectly filled, as if two people had become one. But that wasn't the case. Two people can't become one, and I've finally realized now that we will grow old without ever becoming the same."
My wife's breathing became a little calmer. I could tell she was listening to me through her back.
"Like you said, maybe we would feel safe if we had a child. Or conversely, maybe the fear would increase. I don't know. But either way, I love you. Even if it means we will eventually be separated and return to nothingness."
My wife said nothing. She just cried, turned toward me, and fell asleep in my arms.

Half a year has passed since then.
Having safely finished the miscarriage surgery and gradually recovering from that sadness, my wife and I were back to spending calm, ordinary days together.
My birthday comes half a year after my wife's. Feeling the easing of the early spring chill, we headed to Feuille together. There, we found the new sprout growing at the base of that tree.

"I wonder what the difference is between life and cells."
"Do cells have life?"
That's a difficult question, we said to each other as we entered the shop. Then, my wife turned to me and said, "Hey."
"Starting this year, why don't we stop with the Sachertorte and have this chiffon cheesecake instead? We're both getting on in years, and we can't finish a whole Sachertorte, right? I don't think this cake will be too heavy on our stomachs."
Huh, I said, surprised.
"Are you sure? You love Sachertorte, don't you?"
I started to say that we could just order a smaller one if we couldn't finish it, but my wife shook her head.
"No. If it's small, we won't be able to fit all the candles."
"Well, do we really need to put all of them on?"
No, my wife shook her head again.
"You and I, we have to properly count the candles as they increase one by one. We have to watch with our own eyes as we grow old together."
Seeing her smile as if to instruct me, I felt a new sprout breathing within her once again.
It was the spring with my wife for the umpteenth time.