by Ella Fields
No. No way. My eyes stung, and my feet hurt. I’d walked for what seemed like two hours to see the castle.
I turned the tears off.
“I just want to see the castle, and then I’ll go.” I tried to compromise. Who was he anyway? I asked him as much.
“Castle?” Another tilt to his lips, and then he folded his arms across his chest, which was covered in a black polo shirt. “I’m the owner of said castle.”
My eyes bugged out as I dropped my backpack and dug out my book. Without thought, I marched over to him, opening the bookmarked page as I did, and stabbed my finger at the illustration. “Is it just like this? I’ve always wondered.”
He took a step back, his nose scrunching as if he’d sniffed something foul. I lifted my arm to check my armpit, wondering if it was me.
Not yet, I thought. My sister’s floral spray kept the smellies at bay. Hope said the smellies arrived in the summertime first, but they’d stick around once you reached a certain age.
I wasn’t a certain age yet, but still, I didn’t want to stink, and I liked the floral smell.
“It’s nothing like that.”
My heart sank to the soles of my worn sneakers. “Oh.” I stuffed my book away, then shouldered my backpack again.
The boy sighed. “But I guess, seeing as you walked all this way, you can see that for yourself.”
My smile stretched so wide, my cheeks hurt. “You mean that?”
His brows crinkled. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Such serious words for a young boy.
I ignored them and moved past him through the clearing, wading through undergrowth and clumps of leaves until I reached the tree line.
A gasp emptied my lungs and filled the air. The boy laughed, an oddly musical sound, as I took in the beauty before me.
It was gigantic.
A perfect monstrosity.
The cream exterior shone beneath the sun’s rays, covered in ivy and other serpent-like vines with tiny flowers on them. The windows were oblongs that curved at the tops, and the doors were huge and wooden, polished and gleaming and surrounded by large potted plants.
Water gurgled from a fountain in the courtyard, and as I dared to step closer, I saw orange and red inside the water. Fish. Carp, maybe.
“It’s magical,” I breathed. “The only thing that’s missing is a moat. But still … magical. You live here? You really live here?”
The boy kicked at some rocks where we stood on the pebbled path by one of the rose gardens. “I don’t say things—”
“You don’t mean,” I finished for him, then smiled to show I was just messing with him.
He didn’t return it, and instead, a look of panic washed over his face when he heard an older man’s voice.
My daddy’s voice.
“Crapper jack.” I spun back to the woods. “I gotta go.”
I didn’t wait to see if the boy waved as I ran into the woods, following the sound of my dad’s voice until I met up with him in the middle of the tree-shrouded landscape.
He was dressed in his work uniform, and his face was a mottled red, lines of concern creasing his forehead. “Fucking hell, Jemima. What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing out here?”
Out of breath from running, it took me a moment to answer. “I was just exploring. I didn’t mean to go so far.”
He looked behind me into the trees, a frown wrinkling his ageing face further. “You know you’re not allowed. Your sister called the station in tears saying you were missing, and I almost crashed the truck speeding home.”
“I’m sorry.” I swallowed, my shoulders slumping. “I got bored and only wanted to look.”
“Looking leads to trouble, Jemmie.”
“It’s okay. I was fine. And I met a boy in the woods.”
Daddy was quiet a minute, then said, “They’re a bunch of rich, entitled snobs, that family. They wouldn’t want you trespassing on their turf, got me? If I say don’t do it, I say it for a god damned reason.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“No TV for a week, and you’re making dinner tonight.”
I sighed with relief that my punishment wasn’t worse. He could’ve taken away my books.
That night, I sat on the window seat in my room, scrubbing my hands on my nightgown to rid the smell of raw potatoes and onions from them. But the moon was too weak, and I couldn’t see the castle through the trees. And even when I broke my promise to Dad, venturing back to the castle over the following summer, I never did see the boy again.
A few years later, after one last daring venture, I discovered the family must have moved.
Nothing remained.
Only empty beauty.
“It looks even worse now,” Miles said as he crept closer, using the pair of binoculars he’d brought with him. The ones meant for bird watching, of which we’d done none of.
“It’s been abandoned for years.” Chills shot down my arms, my exerted body shivering. “Let’s head back.”
He stared a full minute longer, his shoulders loosening with a long sigh. Then he turned and took my hand in his, allowing me to walk a much slower pace than the one he’d set out for us to get there.
Except I didn’t want to walk slow, so I picked up my feet.
Thirst and exhaustion forgotten, I tried not to run and power walked until the feeling of something crawling over my skin melted away into the shaded gloom behind us.
Miles rejected the incoming call before it could even connect to the Bluetooth, then shut his phone off.
“Who was it?” Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but something about the unknown caller from last week was still niggling at me.
Miles grabbed my hand, turning onto the off-ramp to join the line of traffic exiting the highway. “Probably just my mom or something,” he mumbled, then kissed my hand. “How long do we need to stay at this thing again?”
After months of being engaged and living together, I still hadn’t met Miles’s parents.
And some quiet part of me, the one that had started making more of an appearance lately, wondered if they even knew about me or that we were engaged.
Wouldn’t they want to meet their son’s future wife? Congratulate us? Hell, maybe his mom would even want to plan an engagement party with me.
Pondering the night ahead, I rubbed my bare arms as the A/C blew ice over my skin. “Two hours should do it.”
Miles heaved out a breath and remained quiet until we’d parked among the half-filled lot of various luxury cars.
The pungent scent of money and misery saturated the city’s concert hall where parents, teachers, and waitstaff intermingled. The dress code was above my pay grade, but I hoped I’d hidden that well with a secondhand black Versace gown. A hundred dollars had bought me a dress that clung to every curve and dip of my body, the bodice bunching and pushing up my breasts. Paired with strappy silver stilettos from my high school prom and my straight hair falling over my shoulder blades, I felt good enough to fit in.
Even if it was only on the outside.
Miles had been tugging at his suit since he’d thrown it on as though it were a winter coat and not fine clothing, complaining of it itching.
Despite his clear discomfort, noticing the way the material threatened to burst over his bulky arms had my legs shifting, my thighs tempted to rub.
He returned from the bar with a glass of champagne for me and a beer for himself. Smacking his lips together after he took a sip, he grimaced.
I laughed, grabbing the lapels of his jacket to hoist my mouth up to his. “You’re cute when you’re uncomfortable.”
“Yeah?” he whispered back, an arm looping around my waist and climbing my back. “You’re cute all the fucking time.” After placing a kiss on my lips, then the tip of my nose, he straightened his back and shot his eyes around the room.
I decided it was time to make the rounds and introduced him to some of my colleagues, waving and smiling at any parents I recognized as we pa
ssed. Their eyes seemed to swell, lips popping, as they took in the man beside me who had his hand glued firmly to my hip, my side melded to his, no matter where we ventured.
“So fucking stuffy,” Miles grumbled after an hour of making small talk and sipping on expensive drinks. “Thank fuck the food looks good.”
He nabbed any finger food that flew by us on shining silver trays, inhaling them and making me laugh as a few onlookers gawked at him licking his fingers. Tracey, our school’s principal, came over to gush over his fabulous work on the school’s landscaping.
I looked around as she blushed under his gaze, and when my eyes landed on the far corner of the room, my quiet laughter vanished, my smile sinking.
Thomas Verrone stood by another man, talking with empty hands and his eyes firmly fixed on me.
Quickly, I maneuvered the smile back into place, lifted my hand in a small wave, and ignored the way his eyes traversed the length of my body.
“Who’s that?” Miles broke me from my shiver-inducing spell when Tracey walked away to mingle.
“Hmm?” I took a sip of my drink; the same one I’d been nursing since we arrived.
“The guy in the corner who’s looking at you.”
Dammit. “That’s Thomas Verrone, Lou Lou’s dad.”
Recognition lit his eyes, and he glanced over at Thomas, who had now turned his back to us as he talked with his companion.
Miles looked back at me. “The strange one you were telling me about?”
I hushed him, thwacking his arm lightly. “Quiet. Jesus.”
Miles chuckled, taking my chin and tilting it to meet his gaze. Swirling questions stared me down. “You never said he was good looking.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
He tipped his shoulders, the seams of his jacket protesting the movement. “Just because I’m straight doesn’t mean I don’t notice the obvious.”
Shaking my head out of his hold, I stepped back, nerves pulling a laugh from me. “No, no.” I smoothed a hand over my already smooth hair. “It’s not that; you just caught me off guard.”
Miles grabbed my hand, and I stepped into him as he grinned down at me. “Admit it then.”
“That Thomas is good looking?” I glanced back over at where he’d been standing, but only empty space remained. Remembering his cheekbones, the dark hair, ice blue eyes, and that jaw, I acquiesced, “He is, I guess.”
Miles laughed, drawing countless eyes with his usual loud and abrasive tone.
I didn’t care. I reveled in the way my stiff shoulders loosened at the sound, and then I wrapped my arm around his back to rest my head on his chest. “Are you done with the inquisition? Because I now fear everyone knows how good looking you are.”
He squeezed me to him, inhaling deeply before pressing a kiss to my head. “Fuck, I love you.”
I smiled up at him, and the humor left his face, leaving only a seriousness that rendered my limbs useless and made my heart thump.
The musicians took the stage, and the slow strum of an acoustic guitar entered my ears.
Miles tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Let’s watch this shit, then go home and get naked.”
“I like that plan.” I pressed my empty glass into his chest. “But first, I need to pee.”
After doing my business, I dried my hands and checked my reflection, eyeing a woman with glowing red hair and a shimmering golden dress who stepped out of a stall behind me.
She froze, then smiled and continued forward to the sink, quickly washing her hands and leaving me in a cloud of Coco Chanel.
I hissed with annoyance when I realized I’d forgotten, yet again, to use one of the many perfumes I’d collected over the years. Blowing out a breath, I eyed myself in the mirror, failing to see the grown-up woman with angular cheekbones, a somewhat passable hairdo, and designer gown. Outside packaging couldn’t hide the inadequacy I still felt as I floundered in this city. Most days, I felt fine, secure in my relationship and my job, but during times like this, surrounded by people who were the very opposite of what simmered in my soul, I longed to run back home.
Not to hide from responsibility, but to feel the fresh air on my skin as it carried familiar, comforting scents on the breeze. Apple blossoms, hay, and pasture … home.
Shaking off the melancholy, I resolved to put a smile on as I left the bathroom. We’d go home soon, and I’d be able to believe I was adjusting just fine, thanks to the love of a good man, a job I enjoyed despite feeling as if I didn’t belong, and the escape of good books.
“Little Dove.” Thomas stepped out of the half-shadowed corner beneath the emergency exit light.
I jumped. “Shit.” My heart screeched in my ears, my hand flying to my chest. “Warn a girl before you go all vampire hiding in the shadows.”
To my amazement, he chuckled. A rough and rusty sound that was quick to fade.
Adjusting his cufflinks, he stepped closer, and I sucked in a razor-sharp breath as his teeth slid over his plump bottom lip. He watched me, studied me, waiting … but for what?
“Erm, are you having fun?” I inwardly rolled my eyes at my awkward question.
“Hardly,” he said, sounding as though he wanted to follow it with a scoff. With his eyes pinned on my mouth, he murmured, “You have something on your chin.” I slunk back against the wall as he reached a hand toward my mouth. His thumb was smooth, and his touch was ghost-like in its gentleness.
I struggled to breathe as the scent of mint and cinnamon filled my nose and caused something to stick in my throat.
I was too transfixed by the blue of his eyes to move. Too distracted by his next words.
“You didn’t tell me you were engaged.”
Not a question, but a statement. His voice was clinical and curious at the same time.
He took a step back, but not far enough. As my gaze dropped to his lips, I realized if someone walked down this hallway, we’d appear to be in a rather compromising situation.
My stomach turned. I didn’t know him, and what I did know of him set my teeth on edge and had my heartbeat dancing wildly with apprehension.
“I don’t recall you ever asking if I was.” Nerves sent a soft laugh rattling out of me. “It’s not the kind of thing I just announce to strangers.”
“Strangers?” His dark brows gathered. “I thought we were past the point of being called strangers.”
“What …” I licked my lips, ignoring the way he watched, and directed my gaze to the column of his long throat. “What would you call people who’d only met a handful of times then?”
His hand lifted to touch a strand of my hair, his brows furrowing further as he rubbed it between his fingers. His Adam’s apple shifted as he said, “Acquaintances.”
It was the smack in the face I needed to step aside and move away from him.
“What’s wrong?” He turned. “You don’t agree?”
“It’s not that.” I pretended to fuss with my dress to keep my eyes averted.
“Then what is it?”
He sounded impatient, which made honesty coat my tongue and drift past my lips. “I’m engaged, and you were …” I cleared my throat. “Well, invading my space.”
A noise resembling a humorous huff left him, and I kept my eyes trained on the exit. “Interesting choice of words.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, and I didn’t care. He unnerved me in a way that shocked me into freezing in place, further allowing him to do so. It alarmed me to think I was naïve enough to let that happen.
“I need to go. Have a good night, Thomas.” Without looking at him, I traipsed down the cool hall, the music growing louder the closer I got to the room full of people. To warmth.
“Until next time, Little Dove.”
I swallowed, tripping over my next breath as I tried not to stumble, and frantically searched the crowd for Miles.
I couldn’t find him inside, and after getting stuck in a conversation about vegan lunch menus with Principal Crawley and Monica, o
ur librarian, I resumed my search.
The sun had descended past the horizon an hour ago. Stars painted the sky, glittering next to a full moon behind tall buildings in the distance. After pressing by a few chattering groups, I finally found him over by the back railing of the deck, talking to some woman in a hushed voice. Not just any woman, though; she was the same woman I saw in the bathroom.
She saw me first, staring a long moment before a smile lifted her red lips.
“Hey,” I said, touching Miles’s arm as I walked up behind him.
He flinched, cursing softly as he turned around with a drawled, “Hey, babe.” He wrapped an arm around me, then introduced me to the redhead, whose eyes kept bouncing back and forth between us. “This is Amelia; we went to college together.” He chuckled after a quick pause. “Haven’t seen her in years.”
“It feels like it,” the woman said, then held out her manicured hand to me. I shook it as she said, “We used to date. You must be the fiancé he’s just told me about.” She grinned when I took my hand back, then sniffed and looked away.
I frowned. “Yeah, nice to meet you.” My phone chirped, and when I realized Miles clearly wasn’t done talking to her, I decided to step away to check it.
Unknown number: Little Dove, you smell good enough to eat.
With my next heartbeat screeching in my ears, I spun around, expecting to find Thomas. All I found was a black Bentley exiting the lot.
In a trance, I watched it drive away and disappear.
Against my better judgment, I gave into the burning need to know and texted back.
Me: Thomas? How did you get my number?
Somehow knowing I wouldn’t get a response right away, I tucked my phone into my purse and walked back over to Miles, who was staring into the distance as if he’d watched Thomas leave too.
The woman was gone.
“I don’t know about you,” I said as I grabbed his hand, willing it to stop the tremors in mine, “but I’m ready to go home.”
“I agree. More than ready.”
The drive home was quiet. And I would’ve been more worried about Miles if it weren’t for my own desperate need for silence. Thomas had rattled me, sure, but it was the red-haired vixen who’d pushed me into a tailspin. Something about her nagged at my subconscious, but nothing came forward to answer that nagging.
