An Ever Fixéd Mark

by Jessie Olson

  “Is that all he did?” Ben stood up slowly, looking at her un-stockinged legs.

  “No,” Lizzie swallowed.

  His shoulders collapsed and his eyes revealed more fear than anger. “Why, Lizzie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Now he… he won’t let you be.”

  “Will you?”

  “What?”

  “Will you leave me be?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I can’t trust you. You keep things from me.”

  “You knew I wasn’t telling you everything.”

  “This is different,” she swallowed. “You didn’t want to admit you had anything to do with Lily’s unhappiness. “

  “I thought I made her happy,” Ben looked at the empty spot on the table beneath the mirror.

  “She died because of you,” Lizzie stood up to interrupt his gaze.

  “Yes,” Ben reached for her shoulders. “I know.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “That’s not good enough,” she hissed.

  “Elizabeth, I love you.”

  “You loved Lily. You just see me as… you see her, not me,” she couldn’t breathe through her nose.

  “That is not true. You are confused,” he tried to pull her closer for another embrace.

  “Stop it. You should be angry with me. You shouldn’t be this kind,” she broke away from him.

  “I am angry with you,” he stiffened his lip. “But I love you too much to not see you are hurting right now.”

  “You don’t love ME. You love her!” Lizzie shoved him and headed towards the door.

  “She is part of you.”

  “I’m going home,” she found her purse and opened the door to the stairwell.

  “Elizabeth, don’t leave,” he grabbed her hand.

  “Please, Benjamin. Please let me go,” she cried as she pried her hand loose. “I don’t want this anymore.”

  “Elizabeth,” he heaved a great sigh and dropped his hand as she turned towards the staircase.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lizzie stared at the crack edging across the plaster of her ceiling, not wanting to get off the bed. She tried getting up a few hours before. She was discouraged by the fact all the clothes in her dresser were too small for her. She left the clothes that fit her extra twenty pounds at Ben’s apartment. All her things… she had to go there to get them. She chose not to think about that and went back to bed. She tried to sleep, but couldn’t let go of her mind.

  She turned on her side and heaved in another sob. She couldn’t believe there was anything left in her tear ducts. She already cried most of the night, only stopping when she briefly found sleep. The longest interval was only two hours. She dreamt of Oliver’s teeth at her neck and woke herself to stop the memory from coming back. She didn’t want to think about Oliver, about what she did or why she did it. She knew it was wrong. It wasn’t as wrong as Ben deceiving her. Was it? He lied about Lily. He lied about who she was and why he wanted to be with Lizzie. He didn’t want her. He never wanted her and her flawed body. He just wanted what Lily had become, to get back at Oliver.

  She shut her eyes. That wasn’t her anger. It wasn’t her bitterness. And yet… it was. She always feared Ben had an ulterior motive to their relationship. Beyond blood. There was always something… like the white roses.

  She heard a gentle knock on her door and felt panic motivate her to sit up. She touched her throat and was confident in the frumpy turtleneck she found at the bottom her dresser. She was surprised to see Nora on the other side of the door.

  Lizzie thought about her red eyes, but knew it was too late to try to hide them. Nora’s glance of sympathy was worse than any other thought that went through her mind all night long. “Ben?”

  “It…” Lizzie sighed and nodded her head. She cried again as Nora squeezed her arms around her.

  “Meg called me,” Nora whispered in her ear. “She heard you crying last night. And this morning,” Nora pulled away. “She was afraid you wouldn’t talk to her. She is worried about you.”

  “Just because I was crying?”

  Nora glanced over Lizzie’s shoulder at the chaos of clothes and miscellaneous clutter. “Why don’t you come downstairs? I brought brownies and wine. Meg got Chinese food.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Lizzie lied. Why was she lying? It didn’t matter if she ate crap now. It didn’t matter what she did to her blood or her body. It was never enough anyway.

  “Come on,” Nora pulled her hand and led her down the spiral staircase.

  Meg stood up off the floor from where she knelt arranging all the cartons on the coffee table. She paused awkwardly for a second and then clutched Lizzie with another hug. “Oh Lizzie, what happened?”

  “I broke up with Ben,” Lizzie left the embrace and sat in front of the feast on the table. She hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours, even though she fed another creature.

  “What happened? I mean… I was pretty sure you were on the marriage track. I thought you would be telling me to look for another roommate.”

  Lizzie saw Meg’s expectant eyes and took in a breath, contemplating how much she was going to tell. She wanted to tell her everything. But … she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell her best friends that she broke up with her boyfriend because he lied to her about loving her in another lifetime. Because she let another vampire take her blood. Meg didn’t see the flaw in demanding the suspension of belief about love and its otherworldly powers. Maybe Meg would understand past lives and… vampires. Nora wouldn’t have that empathy. Not even for stupid mistakes. But the stupid mistake was real and easy to explain. “I cheated on him.”

  “What?” Nora didn’t waste a beat.

  “With his brother,” Lizzie forced her tired eyes to meet her friends’ glances.

  “He doesn’t get along with his brother,” Meg remembered a detail Lizzie was grateful to not retell. “And isn’t he married?”

  “He’s separated,” Lizzie took a Crab Rangoon and started to pull apart the corners.

  “When did it happen?”

  “He came to town a month ago. I went out with him a few times and then yesterday… before I picked Ben up from the airport…” Lizzie touched her turtleneck, fearing the marks burned through the woven cotton of her sweater.

  “Are you in love with him?” Nora asked bluntly

  The tears pooled in the rim of Lizzie’s eyes. “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you love Ben?” Nora continued.

  “Yes, but he,” Lizzie closed her eyes. “I can’t be with him anymore.”

  “What do you mean you can’t be with him anymore?”

  “Did something happen in Chicago?” Meg asked before Lizzie could filter an answer to Nora’s question.

  “No. I don’t know. I …”

  “Lizzie… this isn’t because… you didn’t cheat because of what happened on Halloween?” Meg still wasn’t waiting for Lizzie’s answers.

  “That seems so long ago,” Lizzie faded into a stare at the dark television. “No.”

  “Well, Lizzie, that was really stupid,” Nora decided as she sat on the other side of the coffee table.

  “It was stupid,” Lizzie took a gulp of wine that Meg offered her.

  “How did Ben find out?”

  “I told him,” Lizzie rested the wine glass on her knee.

  “He is a good guy,” Nora glanced briefly at Meg. “I don’t blame him for breaking up with you.”

  “I left him,” Lizzie took another sip.

  “To be with his brother?” Meg sipped from her own wine. Lizzie wondered how much her friend hated her now. She never knew if Meg was jealous of her for having Ben. Would she resent her for throwing it away? Or would she be relieved Ben was out of both their lives?

  “Meg,” Nora hardened her voice. “Lizzie, he loves you. You love him. Why … I honestly don’t understand why you would do this.”

&n
bsp; “He doesn’t love me,” Lizzie shook her head.

  “Did something happen to make you think that?”

  Lizzie met Nora’s eyes briefly and then consumed the rest of the Crab Rangoon in her hand. She couldn’t explain it. Not to Nora. Not even to Meg, who might understand. To tell the story of Ben would require the distraction of telling Meg her fantasy world was real. “It’s complicated.”

  Nora let out an irritated sigh. She lifted her own Crab Rangoon and chewed it slowly. She took a napkin and patted her lips slowly. “Lizzie, I love you,” she crumpled the napkin and reached across the table to grab Lizzie’s hand. “I will be here for you even if you are determined to self-destruct.”

  “You’ll get through this, Lizzie,” Meg put her hand on top of theirs. “If I can get over Alec McCaffrey, you can get through this.”

  “Are you over Alec?” Lizzie dropped her hand and picked up a greasy chicken finger. She wanted to ask if Meg was over Ben, but that was like rubbing salt in a wound for them both.

  “I take it one day at a time,” Meg shrugged and let an impish grin leak from her mouth. “And I’ve got good friends to help me through.”

  “I haven’t been a good friend to you,” Lizzie shook her head.

  “I deserved it… it doesn’t matter now. We need to eat this before it gets cold,” Meg avoided Lizzie’s eyes and picked up a carton of low mein.

  Lizzie managed another weak smile. Meg’s cure for everything was grease, chocolate, and alcohol. All in the company of her oldest best friends. Lizzie subscribed to that belief when she was disappointed by Will or frustrated with her job. But this dull ache within her was unlike anything that ever caused her misery. She didn’t believe her wounded soul would heal.

  *****

  Lizzie and Meg finished two bottles of Pinot Noir when Nora left with the remainder of her frosted brownies. Lizzie felt the nausea when she finally went to bed. She didn’t know how she managed to pass four hours with her friends, but there was enough distraction to keep her mind away from Ben. Or Oliver. Or Lily. It all felt better by the last glass of wine anyway… until the final sip when she struggled to keep her eyes open and her stomach swam with all the fermentation.

  She walked away from the house, following the patterns of the lit windows on the grass. She went to the garden and breathed the heavy scent of summer blossoms. She knew young Master Fulton wouldn’t follow her. She hoped he wouldn’t. His fiancé was in the house. What a silly little thing she was. She was pretty and good. Good enough to distract him from temptation in the shadows of the chestnut tree.

  She saw the white blossoms reflect the brilliance of the moon. The petals were soft and perfect and pure. Like the silk Mrs. Fulton ordered for the wedding gown. She pulled the long stalks off the bush, until a thorn cut her finger. She winced with the sharp pain, knowing it opened her skin. She lifted her finger to her mouth to clean the wound. The evening sounds hummed her into calm, dissolving the pain from her finger. She pulled more stalks until she had a small bouquet for the young mistress.

  A new sound interrupted her thoughts. She knew it was him. The brother. The one who gazed over the shoulder of Mistress Harriet. She turned around, dropping her torn finger, and allowed his stare. He had the hungry gaze of young Master Fulton in his green eyes. It was shameless and unrelenting. He wanted her, more completely than anyone ever could. She didn’t fear he would hurt or strike her to alleviate his want. She waited for him to speak or move. Something stopped him, holding him in place away from her. She handed him the roses and laughed on her way out of the garden.

  *****

  Lizzie was relieved Ben didn’t answer the door. She rang the bell a second and third time, waiting ten minutes after each attempt. She let herself in, unwinding her key as she closed the door behind her. She set it on the table inside the doorway and walked straight into the bedroom with her empty bags. She filled them quickly, clearing off the shelves in the closet. She grimaced as she realized the summer clothes were all too small for her, but didn’t think it was reason to leave them behind. She tossed out her toothbrush and gathered up all the toiletries from the bathroom. She collected the books by the bed and stuffed them into the top of her bag.

  She didn’t take her time in that room. She didn’t fear Ben would walk in. She deliberately took the day off from work and came when she knew he wouldn’t be there. She wanted him to come home and see the emptiness. That way he would know… he would know she wanted it to be over.

  She went to the kitchen. That room was more hers than his. Even though he purchased all the dishes and appliances. She used and cleaned them. She didn’t think she should leave food in the refrigerator. He wouldn’t eat it. It would spoil. She didn’t have that many hands. Nor did she wish to do him any favors.

  She brought her bags to the dining room, noticing all the bottles of her favorite wine. He bought that for her. So he wouldn’t be tempted to take her blood when he was hungry. So she wouldn’t be coherent enough to understand his deceit. Her eyes wandered over the drawers of the buffet. All that beautiful, untouched china. The photograph of Maria buried under silk napkins. Did he have anything of Lily in that house? Anything he held onto to remind him of her?

  Lizzie shook that from her mind. She wasn’t going to think about Lily. Her mission was to erase herself from Ben’s apartment. She went through most of the rooms. She retraced her steps back down the hallway towards his office. The blinds were drawn, leaving a shadowed light against the bookshelves. So many beautiful books. She only read five, maybe six of them… they were beautiful books. From the early 19th century… when Lily was alive. Without breath for another thought, she went to them and started pulling volumes from their resting place. She looked again at Keats and Shelly and was about to replace Byron when she noticed the front page stuck to the inside of the cover. It had gotten wet, making the pages wrinkled and creating a sealant against the leather. With a little effort, she pried open the page. There were a few lines scribbled in ink that ran, but weren’t erased. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. It was like letters she saw in the museum archives, an attention to script that disappeared with the proliferation of keyboards. It took some effort to decipher the blurred blue. It wasn’t Byron. It was Shakespeare.

  “Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wandering bark,

  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

  Within his bending sickle's compass come:

  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

  But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

  If this be error and upon me proved,

  I never writ, nor no man ever loved.” L

  Lizzie dropped the book in a loud thunk on the floor. She reached down to retrieve it and saw it as though it were under a half foot of water. She heard the footsteps in the grass behind her and stood up to see Ben standing in the doorway.

  She saw the color of his cheeks and knew he fed recently. “Elizabeth,” he startled her stare with his quiet voice.

  She recoiled against the bookshelf and folded the book against her side. “What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be at the office?”

  “I went to the clinic this morning. I decided to take the rest of the day off,” he turned on the light and made a step into the room. “I’m glad you are here.”

  “I just came… to get my things,” she looked away from him. “I didn’t want to see you.”

  “You didn’t have to … I could have done that for you,” he still looked at her.

  “No.”

  “Very well,” he lowered his eyes to her hand and then up at the empty spot on the shel
f. Could he tell what book she held? Did it matter? She returned it to the empty spot, not bothering to fill the uncomfortable silence with any conversation. She walked to the door when she heard the alarm of her phone sound. She pulled it from her pocket and felt her neck burn as she turned off the sound.

  “That was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does if you leave here to meet him,” he blockaded the door.

  “You can’t keep me here.”

  “I could,” his face was calm but his voice indicated anger.

  She put her phone back in her pocket and let out a deep sigh, hoping to calm the rapid beat of her heart. “Ben, please, let me go,” she hoped the crack in her voice didn’t make her fear too obvious.

  “Elizabeth,” he stepped closer and tried to take hold of her hand. Lizzie jerked it back and crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Me? Or Lily?”

  “I lost Lily,” Ben turned his glance away from her.

  “You’ve lost me,” Lizzie clenched her jaw. “You deceived me.”

  “How?” Ben looked up at her. “I was honest with you from the beginning about who I was.”

  “Not about whom I was.”

  “I told you. I don’t know if it is for me to tell.”

  “It is when it is part of who you are,” Lizzie moved closer towards the door.

  Ben pulled her back into the room. “Why were you looking at that book?”

  Lizzie saw the green glint in the reflection of the moonlight. No, the artificial ceiling light. She shut her eyes hearing the crickets buzz in the tall grasses. She rubbed her forehead, but couldn’t stop the spinning sensation as the hum of the crickets buzzed even louder in her ear before it all went black.

  “Here, drink this,” Ben offered a glass when she opened her eyes. The water was cool. “Have you eaten anything?”