Chapter 3. Sneak Peek. "Silence."
If there was something that Langdon had gotten used to since the day he was caught, that was silence.
And so, he had become proficient with it. He had come to endure it, accept it, even like it in the right context.
Silence, like pain, had become a long-time friend. Only, she was a more gentle one.
Sometimes.
With Robby, silence had been fucking torture. It had been a dance around the disappointment both of them felt.
Disappointment because Langdon lied, fucked things up. Disappointment because he didn't trust Robby enough to ask for help. Disappointment because Robby didn't listen, didn't respect their friendship. Disappointment because he didn't trust Langdon enough to listen and do better.
With Abby, silence had been grief's best friend. The grief of a marriage that had crumbled into pieces a long time ago. The grief of not being able to pretend otherwise, not anymore. The grief of their relationship, their friendship and the team they had built based on the promises they'd made to one another changing irrevocably and painfully.
If it's all the same to the reader, this author will not discuss the facet silence took when it came to Langdon and their kids. Somethings, some battles, they are not meant to be spoken of. And the quiet sadness that walked with his children because their dad was sick, because he was then gone, because he was no longer going to live with them…
Yeah, it burned him. It still does.
And with Mel, silence was comfort. Calm, easy, warm. Silence was filled with golden sunrays, with the cool breeze that danced around them everytime Mel visited him at the Center. Silence was filled with peace, with the relief that it came when things were just a little bit less hard, if only for a moment.
Some afternoons, Frank would sit on that slightly beaten wooden bench, a cup of coffee on the floor beside him and Mel by his other side. She would either talk to him or read out loud, depending on what he needed that day. In either of those cases, Frank would look at her often, and think that he wouldn't mind prolonging this moments. Just for a little while. Just until he felt better.
In those moments, silence was his protector, because he never, never, voiced those thoughts out loud.
As Santos took a seat in front of him in the empty lounge room, Langdon couldn't help but wonder which face would Silence adopt here.
“All due respect, Dr. Langdon, but I'm not going to apologize for what happened.”
Langdon couldn't help but smirk. Maybe, he wasn't meant to find out silence's role here just yet.
“I always loved that phrase. All due respect. It is a polite way of telling the other person that the respect they deserve might be different than they would like to imagine. Tell me, Dr. Santos. How much respect do you think I'm due?”