THE UNRAVELLING

CECILIA

He sings along at Coldplay — badly, joyfully, as if he is seventeen and nothing has broken yet. In Paris he buys a bat house at a flower market with the joy of a boy who has never been broken. I love him most in moments like this.

GIJSBERT

When Maanzaadstraat is finished — I will put it in the garden. I promise.

CECILIA

I created the second account to check if his was still active. Because I was afraid. Because I loved him. Because the woman who trusts completely also needs sometimes to know she is not being a fool. He was active. He was checking out other women. He admitted it: probably for the same reason as you created a second account. And yet — he was the one who accused. He was the one who made me sick in my stomach. He was the one who made me send my private conversations as evidence of my own innocence while he was the one who was still looking.

CECILIA

Gijs, can I ask you why you were checking out other women on Saturday morning?

GIJSBERT

Yes you may. Tried to explain already. Probably for the same reason as you created a second account.

CECILIA

He deflects. He always deflects. The man who hired a detective for Natalia was the one checking other women on a Saturday morning while accusing me of having a second account. I was checking on him. He was looking for someone else. That is the difference between us that he could never see.

GIJSBERT

You are forgetting a very important component. You never told me your permit was at stake. Maybe also a reason why you did not want to tell me from the start. Because you realized I worked my ass off in your house — which is on top of not yours — and you had potentially to leave in four weeks.

GIJSBERT

You are the master in turning things around afterwards.

CECILIA

The master in turning things around. He said this to me. After I had given him my keys, my bank account, my wardrobe, my daily cooking, six poems written in the dark. The visa was applied for before Amsterdam. Before the forest. Before the hand held. I did not know it was at stake until a week before. I told him immediately when I found out. I am not the master of turning things around. He helped because he chose to. Because he loved me. Not because I manipulated him. But a man who cannot trust will always find betrayal in the evidence of love. He found it everywhere. It was never there.

GIJSBERT

I'm coming. We will find something. Together. I insist.

CECILIA

Cecilia searches the listings. Gijsbert drives. He talks to the homeowners. He insists on every viewing. He will not let her do this alone. That is love.

CECILIA

He fills the grooves with such care. I bring him coffee and think: this is the life. And then the shadow comes again. I explain again. I am patient again. He concedes again. The renovation continues. And I watch him and think of what I wrote him — six poems about the ordinary extraordinary — and I wonder how a man who received those poems can still not trust the woman who wrote them.

ANGELIQUE

I am sorry, Cecilia. Not for leaving him — I had to leave him. But for what my leaving made him. And for what that made of you.

GIJSBERT

You should speak to someone. A therapist. This is something you need to work through.

CECILIA

He could not hold my wound because it mirrored his too perfectly. So he named my vulnerability a diagnosis. I closed the door I had opened. Later — the recovery. Within the hour. Making love through the night as if nothing was said. But something was said. And I remember everything.

CECILIA

Het komt nu niet goed uit. He said it the first time in July 2025 at midnight when I called and called and he would not answer. He said it again in March 2026. Again in April. Again and again. It never came at a good time. Not once. Not ever.

GIJSBERT

I need distance. I have done enough here. I need to choose for myself now. For my mental peace.

CECILIA

I have done enough. As if love is labour with a completion point. As if the grooves he filled — the poems I wrote — as if all of it was a task that ends.