Requiem

by London Saint James

  In truth, Cayden made the choice I never could have. By leaving, he released me from his haunting presence. I felt my eyes sting from a familiar burn. The tears welled up behind my closed lids. It wasn’t reasonable to be sad, not sensible to feel let down at seeing Cayden go. I had what I needed, what I wanted. I should be glad it was over. For some reason, which I could not understand, Winter Wells had become a curiosity to Cayden. A novelty which may be due to my books. However, he probably asked me out to ease that interest, nothing more. He had let his curiosity get the best of him, and tonight backfired on him, badly.

  This is for the best, Winter. No need to say goodbye, a clean break from Cayden. Over before it ever really started, but I knew without doubt it would have started for me. In all honesty, it already started for me. I could not refuse Cayden anything yet knowing this only reinforced my fear. I can’t survive him. I argued with myself and my stupidity. So what if he flirted. So what if his hungry eyes danced over my flesh. I had been exposing a lot of flesh. It’s to be expected he would look, but Cayden would not want me, not really, so I would never have to worry about refusing him.

  We drove in complete and total silence, no one saying a word. The silence became deafening. I gazed out my window but could not see any semblance of the city. The night no longer lit by the city lights. I thought about the irony of this situation. When Austin left me, my life turned into a long silent dark night then Cayden flashed across my sky and sent me glimpses, single rays of light, but he was gone.

  I glanced down at my hands which twisted together in my lap, engulfed within the shadow. Funny, the silence, the darkness, the coldness returned. Oh, I understood what it was like to live in a dark, dim, gray place, no hint of light. After Austin died it become an extension of me. So I knew of my existence outside of the realm of the sun. To wish for the light again would only cause me further pain. Winter, you cannot hope for something you never had.

  Staring out the window I caught a glimpse, a pale ghost of my face within the glass. I closed my eyes not wanting to be haunted by her. I stayed this way for a long moment before gazing back out. What I saw changed from a blur to a long tall wall which passed alongside the vehicle. Shrubs and tangles of vines overtook large sections of the wall. In the dim light, what should be lush greenery looked dead, black. I wondered if I was losing my sense of color again. Maybe everything would turn to dark shades of gray. I remembered the gray colorless world. Recalling that world of rain storms, ominous clouds which took over like tormenting marauders and erasing the blue of the sky. But most of all, I would never forget the feeling of no sun.

  The vehicle slowed and turned in toward a tall ornamental iron gate. Richard rolled down his window. Zander gave him a number sequence to enter into the security pad which stood sentinel outside the gate, to the left of car. Richard reached out, pressed the numbers onto the neon blue key pad then turned back toward the wheel of the car. A low buzzing sound rang into the night, wafting in through Richard’s open window.

  We crossed over the barrier, through the gates beyond the prison-like wall. I twisted in my seat to watch the iron gates close behind us. They had secured, locked, and were, in fact, keeping me prisoner inside of this place, keeping Cayden out beyond the walls.

  The car wound up a long tree lined driveway before it broke through the darkness into a large open circular drive which led up to an impressive two story L-shaped mansion. This was not a mere rental house, something one would lease. I would call it a sprawling estate. I scanned the front of the home and could see Melissa. She stood within the light of the open front door. As the car slowed, she walked over to the car, obviously waiting for Zander to exit.

  “Everything has been taken care of,” she said in a soft tone. No hint of any emotion on her face.

  “Thank you,” Zander replied.

  I rubbed at my temples. I had a ripping headache.

  “Winter!” Zander called out, opening my door, giving me a hand.

  I slid across the leather seat then out the door. Immediately I experienced the sensation of the cold night air as it blew across my face. I shivered and pulled my coat close around my neck, trying to bundle up tighter within it. Zander kept pace with me, but never spoke, as we entered in through the doors of the estate.

  I stood within a sizable foyer upon a white marble floor. A grand winding staircase was located only a few feet in front of me, constructed of dark rich wood. The inlayed walls curved upward, leading up to a mural of a blue sky on the barreled ceiling which showcased a massive chandelier. I can’t be sure, but it looked like something from Tiffany’s.

  I blinked, twice. I knew this may be the last blue sky I saw. How apropos it should be an imitation of the real thing. After all, didn’t I live within the world of my own imagination, being too afraid to live within the real world? Sure I did. I’ve been hidden within my world of make-believe heroines, dark tempting lovers, and unattainable romance for sixteen years. I was Winter Wells, writer of fairytales.

  “Winter?” Melissa’s soft voice took my attention.

  “Yes?” I replied, gazing at her, probably more than dazed in this moment.

  She smiled. “I have your room ready. Would you like me to show you?”

  “Please.”

  I was tired and had not actually slept in over twenty-four hours, though I doubted to get much rest anyway.

  Zander tried to assure me. He patted my back saying, “Winter, please rest. Don’t worry about anything. I will speak with you in the morning.”

  I nodded my head in agreement before I followed Melissa up the grand staircase, around the curved balcony which overlooked an even grander great-room then continued passage down a long hallway.

  “This is it,” Melissa announced when she stopped at a white paneled door.

  “Thank you,” I said then remembered my luggage. “Oh, I….”

  I heard the voice of Richard behind me. “Winter.” He actually startled me. I did not realize he followed me. “Your luggage,” he replied. Richard brushed past me to open the door to my room where he placed my two bags down.

  “Thanks,” I said with some odd semblance of a smile.

  “Rest well,” Richard said. He turned to speak with Melissa.

  I watched, rather detached, as they both walked away. When I could no longer see them, I entered my room then closed the door. Standing dazed, feeling like my head would burst; I realized I was extremely spent. I suppose I did have a vague awareness I looked like a jackass standing in the middle of the large empty space of the floor. But I am unsure of how long I stayed there, frozen like a mannequin, before I finally decided to check out my room.

  The room was decorated in a Victorian style with a tall sleigh bed. The wallpaper floral infused with shades of mauve, deep burgundy, and pale pink roses, winded and weaved in long intricate patterns within the design. Upon the walls hung botanical artwork, all framed in different shapes, rounded frames, square frames, oblong frames, but all matched the gilt of worn gold. Two mahogany hand-carved high backed armchairs covered in deep red cut velvet were placed in an angle, sitting in front of the large glass doors which exited out onto a balcony. A tall full-length gold gilded mirror was placed in the corner by the entrance into the private en suite bath.

  I dragged my feet. With a defeated sigh, I gave up. I had to do something about my shoes. So, I bent over to undo the straps around my ankles which allowed my feet to come back down to a more reasonable position as soon as I flung off the frickin’ high heels. I made my way to the bed, ran my hand over the dark coverlet and sat at the foot of the bed. I rubbed the arches then the balls of my feet before rubbing at my scar which ran up and curved around the inside of my right ankle. I hated to wear high heels. They always made my feet hurt. They put too much pressure on my right ankle. Even if I could forget about my scar, after wearing heels it became evident once again.

  I tried not to think about my scar, the pain my ankle, or anything else for that matter. I stared off into the room
more than exhausted and very much on the brink of hysteria. After a few moments, I peeled off my coat. Near the far wall was a cherry wood desk, the laptop placed there tucked in the middle. It must have been Melissa who placed my golden box from Austin’s mother to the left of the silver computer, exactly like it had been placed in my hotel suite.

  I stared at the computer. Gazed at the golden box. How odd the mixture of the two. New slick and silver, the shiny thin machine was in direct contrast of the old gold box. Surreal. The mixtures of polished, new, bright, against the aged, old tarnish. One new and modern, one older and worn, but both were still beautiful in their own ways. I wondered if this was how Cayden and I looked tonight. He young, new, shining, and beautiful, while I once beautiful, finding dull remembrance with some remaining flickers of my past beauty shining through the tarnish.

  My mind, though weak, craved another glimpse of Cayden. I required a quick dose, infusing him though my system. Before I knew it I was at the computer, the screen on, searching for him. I clicked on a video link to find a movie trailer. The movie trailer to Longing. The movie Austin was going to film. I stopped, my body frozen motionless, disbelieving. I could hear the beating of my heart banging out like a drum inside of my head.

  My fingers twitched. They inched close to the edge of the laptop, and in my breach of sanity I pressed play. There he was, beyond perfect, moving, talking. His eyes pierced through the computer screen, scorching, setting my eyes a wide. I heard an audible breath, but to my shock it was me who was gasping. I could feel the tears well up behind my weak faulty lids before spilling over. They ran down my face in a winding never-ending stream of sorrow, loss. Soon the tears obstructed my view, blurring Cayden’s face and sending me into a complete and yes, total panic. Not a rational feeling, not a reasonable response. The fact I could no longer see his face clearly sent me into a further state of uncontrollable sobbing. I wrenched my body up from the chair, slammed the laptop closed, and walked, no, stumbled to the bed. I threw myself down onto the comforter in a sobbing mess and pulled a pillow to my face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  AWAKENING

  I don’t recall falling asleep; all I remember, a long dark hallway. The hallway, familiar, being trapped in that darkness, in that hallway before. I looked for the door at the end of the hall and saw it, there in the distance. Dim light from beneath the door shown on the dark wooden planks of the floor. As I knew, every step I took forward only made the door farther and farther away. The light would be unattainable. Knowing this, I turned to see other doors as I made my passage down the long hall, but those doors were locked.

  I understood this to be a dream, but I still looked for Austin, trying to find our life in the shadows. A part of my mind told me to stop, to wake up, but I witnessed his face flickering through the smoke. There within the haze of my dream, of my memories. This was different, not part of my past nightmares. I stopped. I stood still. I reached out. My hand twisted into the darkness in search of him. No, it could not be. Once my hand broke through the shadow I knew. Not Austin. Cayden.

  The shadow moved, filling the emptiness of that hallway and of my heart. My screams, loud, startled me. I sat up. My body trembled almost uncontrollably. A shot of light broke through the darkness. I placed my hand to my eyes in cover. As quickly as the light appeared it disappeared, leaving me as my bedroom door shut, latched. I felt someone sit on the bed. The mattress dipped beside me. Strange, someone pulled me into strong protective arms. Didn’t they?

  I thought I heard the silk voice of my angel.

  “Winter, you were screaming. Are you all right?”

  This had to be a dream.

  “You are not real,” I mumbled. I experienced the warmth of his body. The security of his arms wrapped around me.

  “I am real,” the silk voice assured.

  “No, this is a dream.” I argued with myself and the voice in my head.

  “You are not dreaming. I am here. Please tell me what’s frightening you? What can I do?”

  I pulled back from the security of the arms which held me and adjusted my eyes only to see the outline of his perfect face. The blue glow from the alarm clock illuminated the bottom portion of his jawline along with his all too perfect lips. I placed my fingertips to his lips and felt the warmth of them.

  “I had lost you. You were gone,” I whispered.

  The angles voice replied, “No, you will never lose me.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. The silk voice filled my ears and my thoughts with sadness.

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  “No. I never want you to leave me which is part of the problem,” I confessed. “I don’t want you to leave, but you were gone. How did you get here?”

  “Winter.” He spoke my name with knowledge. I shivered. He pulled me close again. His scent filled me with desire and grief.

  “I cannot be here. I cannot be here with you.” I cried. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

  “Please,” he begged. “Don’t send me away.”

  “But you don’t want me. I need to send you a way to save myself.”

  His hand was under my chin, forcing my face up.

  “Why do you say that?”

  My mind became much clearer. I knew this was not a dream. This was Cayden.

  “Cayden,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “You are actually here?”

  “Yes, Winter.”

  I took in a deep breath. I had to set myself free somehow. Being here exposed, so completely raw, was not good for me.

  “My heart cannot survive you,” I whispered. “You do not want this, want me. I understand, really I do.”

  Cayden’s voice was smooth and soft as a whisper when he said, “I don’t think you do understand.”

  “No, I do. Tonight it was….” I hesitated, trying to find the words.

  “Winter, I know, I am so sorry. I should have been careful. I was stupid.”

  There it was. The twisting sensation of the knife again. I wanted to cringe away, double over with the pain which wrenched in my gut. “I understand I am not good for you, not good for your image. I know it was hard for you tonight, not wanting to expose yourself, not wanting to be seen with me.”

  I heard a low almost hysterical laugh.

  “Is that what you think? You think I’m upset because the photographers seen me with you? You think I am worried about my image? You actually believe I was mad because of you? You really believe I’m embarrassed to be seen with you?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  Cayden dropped his hand from my chin. He started combing his fingers through my hair. “Winter, you are so wrong and so very silly.” He chuckled a low musical sound. “I was mad, but not at you, and not because I wanted to save myself any type of embarrassment. I was mad at myself because I could not protect you from my crazy life. All of this, Jayden taking you from the club, leaving you behind at the hotel, moving locations under the cover of night, it was all for you.”

  “What about the damage control? You asked Zander to–” I was interrupted by his finger pressed firmly to my lips.

  “You don’t understand. The press, the paparazzi are ruthless. They will hunt you down. They will try to find out who you are. They will begin to invade your life. I need to do something to stop that. It is you, your life, I am trying to protect.” Cayden grabbed at my hand and pulled it to his face. “Winter, I live in a constant flux, trying hard to balance some semblance of a normal life in with a crazy not so normal world. It is impossible to find the balance, the normalcy. Everywhere I go I am followed. Everything I do is watched. I do not want that for you. I do not want my crazy out of control life to harm you in any way yet it will.”

  “I—”

  “Let me finish,” he said softly. “Winter, I know I hurt you. Even here in the shadow I can see how you are looking at me. My face brings you such pain. I am sorry for that. Sorry I look like someone who hurt you. If I coul
d I would wish not to look like the Austin you love. Will you ever be able to look at me without such pain? Can you see me and not Austin?”

  “I….” I looked down to find my hands within the dim lit shadows of the room. “I do see you Cayden, but you seem like such a dream,” I admitted.

  I felt Cayden’s finger brush down my cheek.

  “And I see you. This is real, not a dream. I am real. You are real. We are real, Winter.”

  “But–”

  “Please let me finish. You need to understand how much you mean to me.” His hands held my face firmly between his warm palms. “Please, Winter. Tonight was only a mistake because I put you directly in the middle of the insanity which is my life. Truly I want so much more than that for you. It was however not a mistake to be with you. I want to be with you, but I don’t know how to do that and protect you. It seems the two desires of my heart are impossible. Nevertheless I cannot walk away from you either.” Cayden straightened, resolute, then ran his hand down the length of my bare arm. “We need to be much more careful, not for my sake, but for yours. I know you are a private person and I do understand you are not comfortable in the spotlight. I realize your life is much quieter, much different than my life. I’m also aware you did not want anyone to know you were here in New York, working on the script. I appreciate the fact you didn’t want to meet me or anyone else. But I’m pushy, selfish even. Tonight I put you directly in the path of chaos, threw you under the spotlight. I am sorry for that.”

  I heard his words, all of them, but I focused in on one word.

  “We?” I asked.

  “Of course, I am not going to let you leave me so easily. I am selfish when it comes to you.”

  I allowed my hand to trace lightly over the surface of his perfect face for a brief moment, but found I had to pull my hand away.

  “You are so far beyond any expectation of me, of my reality,” I confessed. “You are much more than me, Cayden. You are just beginning your life, young, full of possibilities, and full of accomplishments yet to come. I am not young, broken even. My possibilities, my world is nothing in comparison to yours. Everyone wants to know you, be near you. You are perfect, Cayden. Nothing about me could hold you. I cannot compete with all that you are or all you should have from life. You deserve so much more than what I am. You could have anyone and I….” Cayden’s lips skimmed across my jaw. His hand ran slowly down my neck, across my shoulder then down the length of my arm.