by Amanda Long
“You might need to have them re-sized, mother was petite,” Father Murphy suggested.
“I doubt it. Megan is quite petite as well. They should fit perfectly,” Dorian commented, envisioning how the pink tint in the gold would complement Megan's pale complexion. “But I can't accept them,” He stated as he gently placed the rings back into their box and tried to hand it back to his father.
“Nonsense, I insist,” Father Murphy retorted, shaking his head. “Like I said, they belonged to my mother, who would have been your grandmother. She would have wanted you to have them, besides I have no use for them.”
Dorian pulled his hand back and smiled. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, my son. I am glad to see them put to good use. If only mother could too.” Father Murphy smiled though tears threatened to fall.
“I'm curious why you never mentioned your mother before,” Dorian admitted, hurt slightly he hadn't been told of his 'grandmother sooner.
“Well, if you can spare a few more minutes away from Megan, I'll tell you.”
Glancing at his watch, Dorian replied. “I can manage. Beside I would love to know about the owner of these rings and I’m sure my future bride would to.”
“Alright then, I'll try to make it quick. I'm as anxious to meet my future daughter-in-law as you are to return to her,” Father Murphy winked, then sighed. Speaking of his childhood and mother, even after so many years, was difficult. “My childhood was quite different from yours. Unlike you, I had every luxury imaginable, anything and everything a spoiled child could want. However, as I got older, around seventeen, I felt a void that could not be filled with material possessions, or even my mother's love and affections. I guess that's when I began to perceive my calling to serve God. By eighteen, I knew my purpose. My father unfortunately did not. He was not a believer like myself and mother. When I made the announcement that I intended on becoming a priest, my father was furious. So much so, he disowned me on the spot and forbade my mother from contacting or visiting me. For a long time after, I hated my father, but later I understood how he must have felt; to him I chose someone who didn't even exist over him. Of course, my mother didn't listen, and throughout the years, sent me countless letters. I unfortunately couldn't respond. She knew she left me in capable hands. A few years before you came to me, my mother fell ill and when she knew her time was near, she sent me her final letter and a few of her most precious belongings, including those rings. I kept them because they belonged to her, but I never expected to need them. Maybe she did. She was quite an exceptional woman, like your Megan. She would have been so proud to have had a grandson.”
Dorian understood his father's reason for not speaking of his mother before. The pain he had endured from his father's shunning and his mother's forced absence had clearly taken its toll. “I'm so sorry for all the pain you've endured.” He apologized and wrapped his arms around his father. “You are a far greater man than me, but I promise from this point on to live my life as you would.”
Father Murphy returned the gesture, thankfully for Dorian's kind words and affection. “Dorian, I am not greater than you. I have just always placed my faith in one who is. Nor do you need to live your life like me,” he corrected. “Live your own life, my son. You need only keep God as your guide. Now go, woo your bride. I'll be here eagerly waiting.”
Both men held onto each other tightly, reluctant to let go. Finally, he pushed his son gently away, “Goodbye, my son.”
“Goodbye, Father.”
He sighed, watching his son vanish out the church doors. Thankfully, this parting was much easier than the last.
Chapter 16
Take My Heart
Standing beneath the oak, Dorian watched Megan's shadow darken her living room window for the countless time. He knew the cause of her pacing was his tardiness, yet he remained motionless, deep in thought about how to ask for her hand. His proposal needed to be perfect and he wasn't quite there. In fact, his proposal was far from perfect, it was nonexistent. He had thought of nothing else since saying goodbye to his father, but hadn't come up with a single idea good enough. Worst case scenario would be just asking 'Will you marry me?' on bended knee. He wanted something special though; something unique to their relationship. The park bench would have been a good idea, but he ruined that, marring that once special place with his stupid no show.
Then an idea hit him. He stood in the perfect location. This tree was meaningful but if he used this spot, he would have to wait until morning. In the meantime, he needed to be sure she would have him. The only way he knew to do that was to be honest. Taking a deep breath, he raced up to her door. By the time he gently rapped on her door, his heart pounded from the giant leap he was about to make.
The door flew open seconds before two arms wrapped around his neck and a swarm of kisses assaulted his cheeks. After issuing her warm welcome, she pulled away, a cross look on her face. “What took you so long?”
“I'm sorry.” He felt even guiltier for his extended absence after hearing the worry in her voice. “I didn't intend on being gone as long. I timed my arrival poorly, and my father and I had a great deal to discuss.”
“Of course, I understand. I was just worried.” She softened her face. “Did you have a nice trip? Is everything good with your father now?”
“Yes to both.” he smiled. “I look forward to telling you all about my reunion but,” his smile faded, “first there's another matter I'd like to discuss.”
“Okay,” she muttered, nervous about his sudden seriousness.
“Let's sit down.” When they were both seated on their respective ends of the couch, he cleared his throat. He was terrified about how this conversation might go. He knew she didn't consider him a monster, but he wanted to come clean about every transgression he had committed and that might change her mind. “I have a few more confessions that I need to make.”
She raised her hand to halt him. “Dorian, if this is more about you being a vampire, you know none of it bothers me. I care for you because of who you are not what you are.”
“I know,” he reassured, taking her raised hand, placing it gently in her lap, and laying his own on top of hers. “I care for you as well and that is why I want to be completely honest with you. I don't want there to be any secrets between the two of us. I've told you little about my existence since being turned, beyond the general blank statement about seeing and even doing some horrible things. In order for me to fully let go of my past and forgive myself, I need to be sure you can still care for me after knowing all the gruesome details.”
Thinking they were past this point in their relationship, she sighed. “Dorian, you don't have to tell me. It doesn't matter, and it's not going to change how I feel about you.”
“But I do, Megan. Please allow me to do this. I want you to be my future but I have to be sure you can live with my past,” he insisted, caressing the back of her hand before removing his.
“Okay.”
He continued to face her, instead of turning away from her innocent gaze like he wanted. He needed to gauge her reaction to hopefully ease his still guilty conscious. “I'll start with my first kill, a rabbit. I don't blame myself for that one, though. That life was taken purely on instinct. Unable to fathom what I had done, I locked myself away and begged God for a cure. When He ignored my pleas, I decided my only option was to end my life. After a brutal suicide attempt that no human could survive, I lashed out at God for not only refusing to cure me, but not allowing me to end my cursed existence. I promised Him I would be a monster. I killed countless animals, not just for survival, but hoping each one would be a slap in God's Face. After a while though, that didn't seem to be enough. I stopped killing and did something far worse. I only injured my prey, happy to share my suffering. I mutilated and maimed everything around me out of spite. I turned a once beautiful forest into my own version of hell. I would probably still be there wreaking havoc, disgracing God if I had not been abducted by Thomas.”
&n
bsp; She remained motionless during his confession, returning his intense stare. Some of his words disturbed her; she couldn't deny that. However, she couldn't imagine the man in front of her killing and mutilating animals for spite. For that reason, she let any disgust she left dissolve away. “Although it saddens me that you tortured and killed animals, I am more saddened by how much pain and suffering you must have been in to do such horrible things.”
He sighed, both annoyed and grateful for her uncanny ability to reasonably justify his transgressions. Would her gift hold water against all of them, though? He was about to find out. “I'll admit it pleases me that confessing my brutality against God's four legged creations hasn't caused you to think less of me. I feared it might, especially given your buddy asleep in your lap.”
She looked down at her purring cat. She hadn't even noticed his arrival, but she absently caressed him nonetheless. Looking back, she declared. “No, it doesn't. Like I already said, my feelings for you will not change no matter what terrible misdeeds from your past you decide to confide in me. I also doubt you would have spent all of your existence wreaking havoc as you say. You would have found your way back to who you used to be.”
“I'm not sure I would have without you.”
She blushed. “Well, it pleases me to have been of assistance,” she grinned playfully, copying his early statement.
He mirrored her grin temporarily; soon replacing it with a pursed lip as he prepared to finish his confession. “I was content in Thomas' mansion. I had every luxury imaginable, companionship, and an endless supply of animal blood. Until he tempted me with human blood and I caved. From that point on, I witnessed numerous murders and stood by doing nothing but waiting for my share of blood. The first of them was a bum. Although Thomas said the drunk was better off dead, I feel the most guilt for his death. You see, I was the one who picked him to be my first taste,” he nearly choked on the word, shame strangling him. He shut his eyes briefly, and then continued, “of fresh human blood. If not for me, he might still be alive. Another was the owner of a shooting range. Thomas literally ripped him apart. At one point, I actually held his heart in my hand. Last were two victims at a tattoo parlor. The man got off lucky, since Thomas broke his neck. I drained him while Thomas tortured the woman. He ripped 35 piercings from her body before ending her life. Then...”
She tried not to cringe as he told the details of his horror story, but being a nurse sworn to do no harm made it near impossible. Finally, she had heard enough. “Dorian, stop!” She commanded. “Are you trying to push me away again?” She asked; her eyes full of tears.
He gently grasped her hands. “No, quite the opposite. I don't want to lose you. I want you to know about my darkest times, not only to be sure you can still see my worth, but to also give you some idea of what you saved me from; although mere words can't express how far out of the dark you've pulled me.”
“Of course I still see your worth. I'm never going to stop seeing it. I'll admit I'm quite proud of my saving skills. I knew I was a great judge of character, but after your description of how dark you were, I surprised myself.”
Dorian rewarded her humor with a smile.
He had a breathtaking smile, especially when it reached his eyes. Abnormally gorgeous when sad, his eyes were infinitely so when happy. “Jokes aside though, if your concern is losing me, you have nothing to worry about. Your honesty has only deepened my feelings for you.”
He cradled her face, staring deep into her eyes. “I love you.”
Astounded by his actions, she needed a moment to comprehend what he had said. “Oh,” she whispered before responding in kind. “I love you.”
After hearing the response, he hoped desperately for, he leaned in, gently pressing his lips against hers. Placing a hand around her waist he pulled her in close, nearly squishing a sleeping Blaze in the process. He explored her mouth with his tongue and her, his, until his desire manifested itself lower on his body. He pulled away reluctantly, but he wouldn't take her body until she had given her hand. Knowing he needed to stop daydreaming about how great her body felt pressed up against his, he immediately returned to his confessing.
“One more thing. I stole Thomas' safe,” he blurted.
“What?!” She shouted tersely. Contradicting sensations of aggravation and amusement raged in her mind. Finally, amusement and a bit of curiosity won out. “Why?” She asked in a milder tone.
His mind was relieved that his plan had worked and she hadn't initiated another round of kissing. However, his body was disappointed, and it ached its disapproval for being denied once again. “I couldn't open the safe and I needed money. I destroyed some expensive wall paneling in the process. I'm sure Thomas was pissed when he discovered my theft and destruction.” He frowned briefly over the memory of his friend. “It's been in the trunk of my car until I broke into it to pay for the flight to see my father.”
She held back her laughter, uttering only a dumbfounded, “okay,” in response.
On a roll, He continued, “Also, I'm homeless, unless you count my car.”
“What? You’re homeless? Why, when? Why haven’t you told me?” Her questions seemed to never end.
“Well, I couldn't continue staying at Thomas' after stealing and destroying his property.” He joshed before turning serious. “I could no longer stay in that environment while trying to be who I used to be. I had to make a choice.”
“Of course, I understand why you left. I...”
“But,” he blurted, cutting her off, “I must acknowledge that even though I left Thomas because his lifestyle wasn’t...agreeable, I owe him my gratitude. He brought me out of the forest, sheltered me, and clothed me. He was my friend and I will always care for him.”
“Of course,” she stammered. Hearing him verbalize his feelings for Thomas stung her. Though she felt these feelings were merely platonic, she thought of Thomas as potential competition for his affection. His words didn't help. He had even kissed Thomas. She reassured herself that Thomas was out of the picture and Dorian loved her. “I guess I just never thought you wouldn't have anywhere else to go.” She paused. “Wait a minute, of course you have somewhere else to go, here,” she announced, gesturing around her apartment with her arms.
“You don't have to...”
She placed her finger against his lips to silence his refusal. “I insist. I'll not have you living in a car.” Removing her finger from his mouth, she crossed her arms to prove her seriousness.
He wondered if he could resist the temptation of being so close to her all the time. His desire to make her happy exceeded his worry, so he agreed, “Okay.”
She beamed, “Great. You know, modern couples live together all the time. That is what we are right, a couple?”
“Yes, I guess we are,” he agreed, although he felt they were going about things backwards. As soon as the sun comes up, he would get things back on track. And now he worried much less about her answer. He needed to work on his timing though. “How about we both try to get a little sleep,” he suggested then added, “I'll take the couch.”
He walked her to her bedroom door, “Goodnight.” He kissed her cheek before hastily returning to the couch.
“Goodnight,” she sighed.
*****
As the early morning sun bathed Megan’s hair and face with its muted light, Dorian was mesmerized by her natural beauty. He could have remained there sitting on the edge of the bed enjoying the breathtaking view inevitably. She stirred though and brought him out of his trance. Leaning in just slightly, he whispered, hoping not to startle her, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She slowly opened her eyes. Glancing around her dimly lit bedroom, she asked, “What time is it?”
“Around 6:30.”
Slowly sitting up, she looked around him to the alarm clock resting on her nightstand. Hoping she was seeing things, see rubbed her eyes, but the clock still confirmed his assessment by reading 6:33 in bold red numbers. “Wow, you were serious when you
suggested we get a 'little' sleep,” she grunted.
“I'm sorry for waking you so early,” he apologized. “It can wait,” he assured as he tried to rise from the bed.
Grabbing his arm, she asked, “What can wait?”
He answered with a smile, “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes, a gift from my trip,” he chimed, his smile widening.
“Is it a gift that has to be given at 6 in the morning?” She sassed.
“No, just in the daylight. It can wait,” he repeated.
“Are you kidding me? You can't tell a girl you have a surprise for her and then say it can wait,” she chastised as she threw the covers off.
He turned his head, afraid she wouldn't be decent.
Noticing the move, she laughed softly. “You can look. I was so tired, I crawled into bed fully clothed. Nice to know you're a gentleman though.”
He turned back to look at her, half smiling as his face reddened.
She stood in front of him expectantly. “Well, my surprise?”
“Y…yes,” he stammered, trying to recover from embarrassment. Finally, he stood as well and directed her toward the door. “Right this way.” He escorted her out of the bedroom and into the living room. A few steps from the front door, he paused. Looking down, he suggested, “You might want to put on some shoes.”
She wiggled her toes. “Why?”
“Your surprise is outside.”
“Oh,” she uttered, slipping on her crocs.
“One other thing.” He removed a tie from his pocket. “May I?” He gestured to her eyes.
“You want to blindfold me?” Megan inquired nervously.
“It is customary to be blindfolded when dealing with surprises, isn't it?” He asked rhetorically, knowing he was correct with this ritual.
