by Ella Miles
He does, and I stumble back into the church, sopping wet. Everyone’s eyes are on me as I march back to my place in front of Maxwell.
“Where were we?” I ask with a smile.
14
Langston
I re-enter the church through its beaten-down wooden door. I’m soaking wet, and with each step I take inside, I leave a puddle of water behind me. I don’t feel the water, though. All I feel is the heat between Liesel and me, even though she’s standing far away at the altar with Maxwell.
I walk over to Phoenix in the second pew and sit next to her. Liesel doesn’t so much as glance my way. She’s staring intently at Maxwell like he’s the only man she sees. If a stranger walked into the church right now, they might even deduce from the sight of Maxwell and Liesel together that this is a romantic wedding where the two are so desperate to get married that they can’t even wait for her to change clothes.
All I see is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met standing in front of the devil about to sign her soul away.
“What’s happening?” Phoenix whispers next to me, staring with wide eyes as the priest starts talking again.
“They are getting married.” I curse under my breath. “And then we will get married again here.”
I don’t look at Phoenix to judge her reaction. I’m sure she has a smug expression on her face, knowing that not only did I marry her once, but I’m going to marry her again. She thinks she’s won, that she has a claim over me that Liesel will never have. And yet, I can’t stop looking at Liesel.
She will always be mine, even if she’s married to another man. She will always be mine.
“I do,” Maxwell says.
My heart feels like it’s just been hit with a hammer, exploding from two little words. I can’t imagine how it’s going to feel when she says them.
This is for the best. I can never forgive her—never love her. Getting married is necessary, for both of us.
I try to close my eyes, so I don’t have to watch Liesel pledge her life to another man, but I can’t seem to force my eyes closed. They are fixated on the tragic nightmare in front of me.
Silence stretches around the room, and I know the priest has just asked Liesel if she takes Maxwell as her husband. All that is left now is for her to answer. For her to reach into my chest cavity and pull out what’s left of my disintegrated heart.
“You know they are going to have to fuck, right?” Phoenix says.
I snap my head toward her. “What?”
“That old man will know if their marriage isn’t real. They are going to have to consummate the marriage or he’ll know. I don’t know how, but he seems to know everything. I don’t know if this will work if they don’t act like a married couple.”
“Fuck,” I curse. She’s right. I know she is. They are going to have to fuck, to pretend to be in love. And then they’ll have to do god knows what in order to get the next clue.
I glance to Phoenix. I’m going to have to do the same with Phoenix.
This is truly goodbye. I have to let Liesel go. In order to get the treasure, she has to be committed to being married to Maxwell, and I Phoenix. And after all that, she won’t want me.
Finally, my eyes are able to close. I slam them shut, sealing myself from the extraordinary pain that only Liesel can cause me. For decades, I’ve been chasing her—hating her, yet wanting her, knowing how wrong we are for each other, yet assuming we would end up together no matter how wrong it is. In reality, we were destined to get the briefest of moments together and then be lost to another forever.
I keep my eyes closed as a single painful tear escapes. My tear duct takes its time purging the tear, and then the liquid is even slower to descend over my cheek, stopping at each pore to remind me just how painful this moment is.
I hear Liesel breathe, and I open my eyes, knowing this is the moment she says ‘I do.’ The moment she marries another man.
“Wait!” Phoenix shouts.
I blink, trying to flush the rest of the tears from my eyes so I can figure out if this is a dream or not.
Phoenix pushes me out of the way as she runs up to the altar. She whispers something to Liesel that I can’t hear as she takes her hands in hers.
Liesel gasps in shock at whatever she says.
“Are you sure?” Liesel asks.
“More than anything. I was a selfish bitch before.”
The two women hug.
I narrow my eyes, trying to understand what the fuck is happening.
Then, Phoenix rushes back to my side. She takes my hand and pulls me out toward the back of the church.
“Wait, I can’t leave—”
“Trust me,” Phoenix says, yanking me out the doors.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s for the best I don’t want Liesel stomp all over my heart.
We are once again outside in the pouring rain.
“Marry her,” Phoenix says.
“What?” I ask.
“Ask Liesel to marry you. You love her or, at the very least, want her. You don’t want me. I’ve done a lot of selfish things in my life. I’ve stolen you from her and demanded you be mine for years when I have no right. You two belong together. Only the two of you are going to be able to do the tasks required to get the treasure. This is the only way this will work.”
I frown. “What about you?”
“I love you. And if I love you, I have to let you go. All I ever wanted to be was a mother, and you gave me that. So I think it’s time I return to the thing I love the most—my children.”
My heart thumps so loudly in my chest that it blocks out the roar of the thunder.
“You’re wrong,” I say.
Phoenix looks up at me, even though the rain is pelting down, stinging her cheeks.
“I don’t love Liesel. I love you. I’m just not in love with you, Dunn.”
“I know.” She gives me a weak smile. “But that doesn’t change that she’s the one you want to marry, not me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Loving you was one of the best parts of my life.”
“I’ll love you forever, Dunn.”
And then my lips consume hers. It’s a kiss that tells her how much I love her. How much I appreciate her. How fucking incredible she is—the most unselfish person I’ve ever met.
For me, I hope it’s a goodbye kiss, but it’s also a moment for her to change her mind. If she says she can’t give me up yet, that she wants to stay and marry me, then I will. Not because I’m selfless, but because this woman deserves the best man. I’m not the best—but I can give her my best for as long as she wants.
She pushes my chest hard, breaking the kiss.
Her eyes sear into mine—knowing that was a test to see if she can really give me up. The fire in her eyes tells me she can; she already did.
“Go get the girl you love,” she whispers.
“I don’t love her.”
She shakes her head. “Sure, you don’t. You can fight it all you want, Langston, but it doesn’t make it not true. Stop lying to yourself.”
I nod, but I can’t, because the only sin I refuse to commit is loving Liesel. Loving her will destroy us both.
15
Liesel
“Wait!” Phoenix shouts.
Jesus, if this wedding gets interrupted one more time, I’m not sure I have the guts to go through with it.
Phoenix rushes up and stands between Maxwell and me.
She takes my hands in hers and then whispers, “He’s yours. He always has been. I thought I could make him love me, but I was wrong. I won’t step in the middle of the two of you again. Being between the two of you doesn’t help me; it just means I’ll end up getting burned from the inferno you two are bound to create.”
“Are you sure?” Liesel asks.
“More than anything. I was a selfish bitch before.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as she runs back to Langston, dragging him out of the church.
My eyes
water once again.
Dammit, I have to stop crying.
“Are we getting married or not?” Maxwell asks me with an annoyance to his voice.
I smile. “No, we aren’t.”
“Damn, I was sort of looking forward to the honeymoon.” He winks at me.
I roll mine.
“Sit your ass down and don’t move, or I’ll tie you up.”
I really should tie him up. Or lock him up. Or kill him. Something. I don’t trust Maxwell.
No, you were just going to marry him.
Maxwell sits in the first pew, looking bored.
I wish I knew whose side he was really on and what the hell to do with him. All I know is there is something inside me, a warning bell of sorts that tells me I can’t kill him—yet.
I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to go outside and talk to Langston, but I should let Phoenix and him have their time.
So I pace.
Back and forth in the front of the altar.
The priest has walked to his back office, realizing this wedding isn’t going to happen. It’s just me and Maxwell.
“You need to stop doing that,” Maxwell says.
“Why?” I keep pacing.
“You have nothing to worry about. That man loves you and will jump at the chance to marry you.”
“He can’t love me,” I whisper more to myself than to Maxwell. I won’t let Langston love me.
The door at the back opens, and Langston appears. The sun forms a halo of light around his body as the rain is now nothing more than a pitter-patter behind him.
“Come,” he orders.
I hate when he gives me orders. I’m too nervous to protest or ask questions, though, so I walk to him.
“Where is Phoenix?” I ask, looking behind him.
“I got her a car to take her to the jet. She’s headed back to watch over the kids.”
“I don’t think I could have picked a better mother for the kids than her. She’s the most amazing, selfless woman I’ve ever known. I’ll never be able to repay her for everything.”
“No, we won’t,” he agrees.
We stare into each other’s eyes as our breathing deepens. I can feel my pulse in my throat—a big, giant heartbeat that wrecks my whole body, taking over every other emotion.
Neither of us speak; we just stare. I’m not sure what to do or what this means.
Are we getting mar—
I can’t even finish my own thought in my head, let alone speak it aloud or ask Langston if this means what I think it means.
Langston takes my hand and, without a word, leads me out of the church. Away from the church—that means I was wrong. We aren’t getting married.
He moves us quickly, practically running through the streets.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. He keeps moving us through town until he stops so suddenly I almost slam into him.
“Wait here,” he says, leaving me standing on the side of a road.
He disappears into nearby greenery until I can’t see him.
“Langston,” I hiss, completely confused by what’s happening.
He doesn’t answer. He takes his time doing whatever he’s doing. Returning a moment later, he wordlessly takes my hand, and then we continue on. The road leads to a hill, but that doesn’t stop him. We start climbing up the hillside, both of us still wet from the earlier rain. My feet are going to have blisters from all the walking in wet shoes.
We reach the top of the hill when he stops. I have no idea why, but I turn and look out at the view, and my breath catches. It’s stopped raining completely now, a low fog hangs in the air over the town in the Sacred Valley between the mountains, and the sun shines down as if it’s shining only on us.
“I hate you,” Langston says.
What?
I turn my head toward him, not having a clue what this is all about.
“I hate you, huntress. You’ve been a thorn in my side since we were kids. You taunted me with your beauty. You tortured me with your smart mouth. You lied to me. Resisted me. Refused to bend to my will. And you hated me in return.”
I frown.
He smirks and continues.
“We’ve both done horrible things—the worst things. Things that can never be forgiven. You’re a sadistic princess, and I’m a cruel manwhore. Most of the time I still want to kill you. And yet, we were made for each other.”
Only most of the time? I really should ask him why he wants to kill me and why now he only wants to kill me most of the time.
My mouth dries as I gape at him. What is he doing?
He bends down on one knee. “I’m not going to say I love you because that would be a lie.”
Thank god.
“I’m not going to promise you a lifetime of happiness because that would be a lie.”
I bite my lip.
“I’m not going to promise you any of the things a husband should promise his wife, but that isn’t going to stop me from asking you to be mine. Huntress, will you marry me?”
He reaches into his pocket and produces a ring. A ring he’s made out of twisted together flowers similar to roses, but not quite. It has a green vine, thorns, and red petals.
I look into his eyes—eyes that say he cares about me way more than he should. He said he didn’t love me. Please, don’t let him be lying about loving me. Please, let him hate me.
“I hate you, too,” I whisper back.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
He grabs my hand and holds the ring over my ring finger. Then he hesitates as he realizes the thorns are going to cut into my skin as he puts it on.
“Do it,” I say, not able to think of a better way to represent our relationship than with this ring. A ring of both thorns and petals—a ring of pain and beauty.
He slides the ring onto my fingers, producing little droplets of blood as it slides in place. Then he stands, takes me in his arms, and we kiss.
It’s a kiss I never thought I’d experience—a kiss of a man who wants to marry me. A man I want to marry despite knowing the pain this will cause us both.
I feel the tears welling as his tongue pushes between my lips, but I hold them back. I won’t cry in this moment. I won’t allow any sadness to warp this memory.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pretend he just proposed to me in the most romantic way. It may not have been sweet, but it was honest, raw, and true. It made me fall for him even more.
Finally, he sets me down, releasing my lips. We smile at each other, before Langston takes my hand, and we start walking back to town. I make him stop at the same spot we did on the way up and grab more flowers to make him a ring too. Finally, we head back into town to go back to the church to get married.
Before we make it to the church, Langston stops at a small shop in the middle of town. He turns me in the direction, and I smile.
“Give me just a minute,” I say as he hands me some cash and I step into the small dress shop. When I was marrying Maxwell, I didn’t care what I looked like, but now that I’m marrying Langston, I have this urge to get married in a white dress.
Most of the dresses in the small shop are beautiful vibrant patterns of the traditional Andean culture, to the point where I almost give up on finding a white dress. I decide to settle on any dress when I spot white lace fabric at the back of the store. The dress is simple—a low v-neck with thin straps and not much shape. It’s perfect.
I pay for the dress and quickly change at the back of the store. I can’t do much about my wet hair except scrunch it and hope it dries in beautiful waves instead of a frizz ball. Then I step outside, where Langston is waiting for me in a loose-fitting white long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans.
I drool just looking at him.
“Ready to be my wife?”
I blush, still not sure what being his wife means, but I’m excited to find out.
Together we walk back into the church, where surprisingl
y, Maxwell is still sitting.
The woman behind the piano starts playing, and the priest is once again at the far end of the aisle. How did they know?
We make it to the end when I realize that this won’t be legal. “We didn’t file for a marriage license.”
“Shit,” Langston curses, now realizing that we are going to need that.
Maxwell steps up, holding a piece of paper out to us. “Actually, I went back to the registrar when you took off with Langston assuming that you would be needing this and filed for you.”
We both stare at him, completely confused why he’s helping us.
“I didn’t want to have to wait for you two to get your shit together. The sooner you’re married, the sooner we can finish what we came here for,” Maxwell says.
I suspect he’s here to steal the treasure once we have it. But until then, he could be of some use to us.
Langston pockets the piece of paper, and then the priest begins. I get lost in Langston’s eyes as the priest speaks, prompting Langston to lean in and whisper in my ear, “If you want to marry me, you have to say ‘I do.’”
“I do,” I say, biting my lip.
Then Langston holds out his hand, and I place the ring on his finger, drawing a trickle of blood as I push it on.
It all happens so fast that I’m not sure it’s real. That is until Langston kisses me like he owns me. And for the first time, he actually does.
16
Langston
I’m a fucking married man.
I thought I was before—to Phoenix. Turns out something got fucked up with our paperwork. Even though we lived that life, it wasn’t true, at least not in the eyes of the law.
This isn’t real, either.
And yet, when my mouth crashes down on her soft lips much harder than I’ve ever kissed her, I know that this is as real as it gets for me.
I dip her back in my arms, claiming her with every part of my body, slipping my tongue between her parted lips. My hand is already running down the front of her white lace dress that I plan on ripping from her body as soon as we don’t have any eyes on us. I’ve spent my entire life sharing her—I’m done. I won’t let any other man even get a glimpse of her ever again.
