Chapter Nine: A Rose Without Thorns
I stood in front of the old building, gazing up at it. I bit my lip and looked at Mikayla.
“You’ll be fine,” she tried to comfort me.
“What if I stuff it up?” I asked, looking down at my feet.
“You won’t,” she told me. “You will be amazing. Look at me.”
I turned so she could see me face on. She shifted my dress slightly, before stepping back and nodding.
“Ready?” Michael asked, showing up behind me.
“No,” I replied.
Mikayla sighed. “She’s nervous as hell.”
Michael put an arm around my shoulder, careful not to disturb my hair which was intricately placed on my head this morning. “There is nothing to worry about. Just think, once you’re in there you’ll be with Egan. After that, you can stay with him forever.”
I smiled – the idea of forever with Egan was enough to get me grinning.
“Come on,” Michael called out to me. “It’s time.”
He took my arm and led me through the door. It seemed so unrealistic. I never thought it was possible to have Michael walk me through a church to where Egan stood at the other end. It seemed like eternity before we reached him. He took my hands, acknowledging Michael before he turned and walked to one side.
“You look beautiful,” Egan whispered.
I smiled. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
I looked into Egan’s eyes and saw everything; everything he was, every part of him was lined up before me.
A scream dragged me away. I turned to see Joel, staring at me without a hint of the goodness.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “You are meant to be with me. You are mine. No one else will love you, so why try?” he taunted.
I turned back to Egan, but he wasn’t there. He disappeared. Looking around the room, I realised I was alone with Joel.
“It’s time to come home, Ailia,” Joel said, grabbing my arm, dragging me out of the church and ripping the dress as we went. “You’re never coming back!”
I sat up straight, panting. A thin layer of sweat lined my skin. I smoothed my hair with my hand. It was only a dream! The thought only comforted me slightly.
“Ailia?” Egan murmured, pushing himself up in bed next to me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Just a bad dream.”
Egan placed an arm around my shoulders and fell back pulling me with him. “Demons?” he asked.
I laughed. “My ex.”
“What happened?”
“He took me back to Ireland,” I muttered, deliberately leaving out the part where I was getting married to him.
Egan squeezed my shoulder. “We’re not going to let that happen, okay?”
I nodded.
“Hey,” Egan seemed to pick up on my uncertainty. “If you’re worried about it, talk to Mikayla. She’s a master of dream interpretation.”
“Interpretation?”
“Some people believe dreams can be telling you something.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t worry about it too much, okay?” Egan turned his head to look at me. “It’s only a dream.”
I nodded and pulled the blanket up to cover my shoulders.
“Go to sleep,” Egan encouraged.
I obliged.
What Lay in the Dark Page 14
