by Mia Wolf
Warren rubs his temples. “Of course. I forgot that you’re not used to our customs.”
“So what does it mean? What does a mate do? Is it like marriage or something?” The answer is already at the tip of my tongue even though I don’t know what the question is.
“Mating is like marriage for bear shifters. There’s a ceremony, you get food, and you vow to spend the rest of your life with each other,” Warren explains. “But compared to marriage, being someone’s mate is less about living together and more about a communion of two souls, two spirits, bound for life. Divorce is not a word bear shifters have in their dictionary. We’re talking about a bond that doesn’t break even in death. The legends tell us that you reunite with your mate in the afterlife. There are very few people who find a true mate after they’ve lost one already. Sometimes it happens. But it’s something out of your control; you may or may not find one at all. But there’s no doubt when you have because they become the center of your world.”
I’m far too captivated by the story to say anything. They become the center of your world. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Is that how Warren thinks about me? I turn towards him to ask him, only to find him sitting with his head buried in his hands.
I clear my throat and he looks up, an expression of total dejection written all over his face.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Are you crazy?” I tell him. Of course I’ll be your mate!”
Warren looks astounded as if he’s heard some shocking breaking news.
“It’s not that surprising,” I pout at him. “I was always interested in you. You’re the one who always had second thoughts about our relationship.”
“Are you kidding me?” he retorts. “You’re the one who has always wanted to run away and give mixed signals about what you wanted.”
We could both go on and on and that’s the beauty of being together.
Chapter 43 – Warren
I take Rose aside the moment she steps into the house, pulling her by the elbow into her room so I can talk to her in private.
“What’s happening?” she asks, seemingly keeping her annoyance in check.
“I asked Ashley to be my mate,” I tell her and when the gravity of the situation hits me again, I grip my head because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
“Are you having second thoughts about this?” Rose asks as if it’s a crime.
“No,” I say a little too high-pitched. “I mean no,” I say again, this time in a lower register.
“Then what’s the problem?” Rose asks. She just doesn’t get it, does she?
“Ashley said yes,” I tell her.
“I know, she told me. Besides, why else do you think I’m here?” Rose says.
“You don’t get it, Rose,” I try to make her understand. “I found my mate,” I emphasize every word like my life depends on it. Well, it kind of does. There’s no room messing up now, is there?
“Are you nervous?”
“No!” I yell back at Rose. Then I realize that that’s how a nervous person would react, so I say it a few more times with a much calmer demeanor. “I’m not nervous, are you nervous?”
“Why would I be nervous? You’re the one who’s having a mating ceremony.” Rose’s words throw all of my composure out of the window.
“I’m the one who’s having a mating ceremony,” I say, pulling my hair back again, pressing my skull with both hands. I try to focus on my breath; they say it helps when you’re freaking out. “I’m freaking out,” I say out loud.
“I can tell,” Rose replies, then smiles at me as if nothing’s wrong. She walks out of the room without helping me but really what am I expecting her to do?
“Rose,” I call her back.
She turns around and stands at the door so I gesture for her to come in and shut the door. She lets out an exasperated sigh but obeys.
“Do you think I’ll be a good mate?” I ask her, pressing my lips. “Tell me the truth. Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“You’ll be fine,” Rose says.
“No,” I say, “you don’t understand. After everything that happened with mom and dad and Moira, I don’t know if I deserve any of this happiness.” The truth jabs into my heart like an anchor; it cuts and it bleeds. I don’t deserve all this happiness, do I?
“Warren, I’m going to say this one time,” Rose begins. The stern look on her face and the seriousness in her tone make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “What happened to mom and dad wasn’t your fault. What happened to Moira wasn’t your fault either. And I know I was mad at you for running away—I think it’s fair that I was. I went through a lot of bad things because of it. But if you’re asking me whether it makes you a monster that you ran away? I don’t think so. You’re back now. All you can do about your mistakes are correct them and you did. So I don’t know what you’re thinking when you say you don’t deserve happiness. I think if mom and dad were here they would tell you something you shouldn’t have forgotten. You deserve the world.”
I’m in tears by the time Rose finishes, and chills are running down my spine. That’s right, mom and dad used to tell us that all the time. You deserve the world. I used to think they only said that because we were their children and that’s probably true, but who am I to question it when they think I deserve the world?
“Thanks,” I say to my baby sister who has grown a lot since I’ve been gone. “You know there’s something I’ve been thinking about. We did alright in life, right?” I ask her but it’s rhetorical. “We are alive with all four limbs and have managed to find our mates. Did you think that would ever happen when we were children?”
“I used to think I would become a fashion designer and live in New York, far away from this place,” Rose says, chuckling, then turning serious again. “Well, part of it is true. But I can’t seem to let go of this place after all.” She looks around the room with warmth in her eyes.
“I used to think I’d go to college, have some flings, get a neat job and never settle down,” I say to Rose, but she’s still staring at her room like she’s transported back twenty years. Back when our parents were still around.
“Do you miss them?” she asks out of nowhere.
“You bet I miss them,” I say instinctively. “I miss them so much it’s hard to contain it sometimes. I wasn’t ready to lose them so early. I don’t think I would’ve ever been ready. I ask myself a hundred times a day, why them? I know it’s stupid and there’s no answer to that question. But I can’t help but still go down that rabbit hole. So yeah I miss them.”
“I miss them, too,” Rose replies. “I miss mom taking my side when dad would tease me over my hairstyle or clothes, or how dad would tap on my nose and say that it’s broken. He had a blast annoying me now that I think about it.”
“You want to know something?” I ask, something suddenly clicking in my head.
“Hm?”
“Do you want to know why I really left?” I ask but the question again is rhetorical. “I truly believed that I was the reason for all the bad things that happened to our family. I was never a good son to mom and dad. I wasn’t a good boyfriend to Moira. I made all three of them unhappy. After the accident, I couldn’t ignore that anymore. I couldn’t ignore the destruction I brought to the lives of the people that I loved, and I couldn’t for the life of me do that to you too, Rose. You’re the only reason why I wanted the world to be a better place; it was because you’re in it. Hurting you like I had hurt mom and dad, I wouldn’t have been able to live with that. So I left. It was to protect you from myself.”
Rose doesn’t say anything and I don’t ask her to.
We stand in the room in silence; perhaps the same thoughts are on her mind as on mine. I’m thinking about all the things my parents used to say that I never listened to while I still had the chance and now that they’re gone, I’m finally discovering how useful they are. They soothe the aches that I endured in the past
and that I endure in the present. The things I never forgave them for, like letting me be who I really was instead of forcing me to be someone I never was and never will be. Both Rose and I; all they wanted for us was happiness. I move closer to Rose and touch her head with mine. This is another one of those moments I want to freeze in time.
Epilogue
Warren and I decide to have our mating ceremony as soon as possible. It’s not that we can’t wait any longer but there’s nothing left to wait for. It’s weird how we’re both so terrified of being tied down as if we could be tied down just by something like marriage.
“We can do this our own way,” Warren says. “We’re free to do whatever we want, what do you think?”
“Other than sleeping around with other people, right?” I ask, genuinely.
“Yes, other than that. You’re free to do whatever you want. I would hate to keep Ashley Wang from living her life.”
It’s a life-changing event for me. Going from Ashley Wang, the fashion designer to Ashley Wang, the queen of the fashion world was easy because I had to do that all by myself. This communion is different because I’m only one of half of this. Or maybe I’m just old fashioned to be thinking this way?
Joshua showed up this morning and took Warren away for the day.
“You can’t see each other today before the ceremony starts,” he explained to me with a teasing glint in his eye.
Right before he left, Warren mouthed the words, “I’ll text you” to me, which made me laugh.
“We managed to stay away from each other for years. I think one day will be easy to handle,” I text Warren as soon as he and Joshua step out of the house. Rose has yet to come and as I wait for her I have nothing else to do other than texting Warren or contemplating my life.
“I don’t want to stay away from you now, why would I do that?” Warren texts back and there’s a child’s stubbornness in his words.
“Touché. I would like to not stay away from you either,” I reply with a smile emoji.
“I think I’ll get a heart attack seeing you in the mating ceremony Shoma.” I roll my eyes at my phone’s screen. Warren can be really dramatic sometimes.
“Well, try not to get a heart attack.” It’s the last text that I sent him because next thing I know, Rose comes in and insists that I keep my phone away. She brings Jessica with her, too.
“The more the merrier,” she tells me.
“Did you leave the baby with Joshua?” I ask Jessica while Rose fetches my dress from the living room.
“Yeah, the boys don’t need much help in getting ready,” she explains.
When Rose walks in with the dress covered under brown packaging, my heart rate quickens. I wonder if the mating ceremony will give me wedding jitters. I had been pretty thorough in explaining to Rose that I will not design a single outfit for the ceremony.
“I have designed enough wedding dresses for enough brides for a lifetime. I want someone else to do it. And I don’t know anyone else who would be more suited for the task than you,” I had told her and she politely accepted the offer.
Rose tells me to sit down on the bed before revealing my outfit.
“Try not to judge it too harshly,” she says.
As Rose unpeels the cover and reveals the beautiful white dress underneath it, I’m overcome with emotions. It’s perfect.
It’s a long dress gown with a two-layered body, a thin undercloth and a layer of netted white fabric on top.
“I have a dress that’s exactly like this,” I say, sifting the dress in my hands to feel the patterns on the fabric. It hits me as I run my fingers along the gown.
“I turned that dress into this,” Rose says.
My jaw drops open when I realize that it’s true. The stitching is obviously seamless, I wouldn’t expect any less from Rose. The top of the dress is so gorgeous that I almost get dewy eyed. The long thin sleeves will reach the palms of my hands, and the sleeves end in triangular shapes that will fall over the back of my hands. The top of the dress reaches up to the collar bones and will reveal my shoulders and neck. The under cloth is missing from the top and only the netted fabric will be covering my cleavage. Oh well, Warren might just have that heart attack.
“It is gorgeous, Rose,” is all I can say.
“So are you,” Jessica says and it makes me blush, perhaps it’s because I’ve been emotional the whole day. It seems like my tears are sitting at the corners of my eyes, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.
“Shall we turn you into a bride then?” Rose asks and hands the dress to me.
They leave the room so I can put it on. I carefully step into it, pulling the rough yet comfortable fabric up my body. It bristles against my skin, teasing that nervous energy. I slide my hands into the long thin sleeves; they hug every inch of my arms down to the palms. It’s a perfect fit. I knew that would be the case because Rose made it.
When I’m dressed, I open the door and walk over to stand in front of the mirror to take a look at myself. It’s weird but I take my own breath away.
“You look divine,” Rose says, mouthing each syllable as slowly as she can for emphasis.
While I stare at myself in the mirror, unable to believe that I’m looking at myself, Rose and Jessica discuss what they’re going to do about my hair and makeup.
I have worn hundreds of designer dresses and made hundreds of dresses for other brides; I have lived my entire life around fabrics and clothes, and yet this white gown has such a profound impact on me. I almost can’t believe I’m looking at myself in the mirror because when did I get so lucky?
“Okay, we’ve decided,” Rose says and they sit me down on a chair in front of the mirror, opening boxes upon boxes of makeup and hair products. It’s pretty obvious that Rose is in the industry.
They make a side bun out of my hair and stick a chopstick in it for a little touch of Ashley Wang. Other than that, they keep the makeup light and earthy.
It’s almost evening by the time I’m ready, and I take care of the final things myself because Jessica and Rose have to go and get ready for the ceremony themselves. They leave me by myself for an hour and I spend that time reminiscing about the past and all the events that have led up to this.
The excitement and butterflies in my stomach are turning to knots as the hour draws to a close. I check my phone to see if Warren has texted me again. I want him near me right now, or else I’ll lose my ground.
“Sneak in a picture of you wearing the dress,” his text says and I laugh and cry at the same time.
I’m yet to put on my heels—the dress is designed to be worn with tall heels. Nothing about the day has been ordinary so far. It’s extravagant and over the top and exciting, I almost can’t contain it within me.
“I’ll need you to hold me, babe. I’m scared,” I text Warren, wondering if it’s the first time I’ve asked him to hold me.
“Always.”
I slip into the heels when Jessica and Rose show up, both dressed up in fancy outfits. Jessica is wearing a lemon colored one piece that falls down to her knees and I’m amazed how well she has maintained herself just after pregnancy. Rose, on the other hand, is wearing a red colored, long flowing gown; she looks like one of those early opera singers from the 1920s.
“You guys make me look dull in white,” I tell them as they urge me to get up from the bed where I had been lounging.
“Shall we?” they ask in unison and I step onto the ground, trying my best to keep my cool.
Deep breaths, Ashley. You got this.
I’ve walked up on stage so many times and never felt a thing and today when I need that courage the most, it eludes me.
We step out of the house together. It’s already dark; the sun has set and the summer breeze gently touches my exposed shoulders. I walk down the winding path with Rose and Jessica on either side of me and I remember but one thing—to take one step then another, because I’m afraid I might fall.
The town is lit up like that first evening I saw i
t in all its glory. The lights, the lamps, and the lanterns all glow in a soft amber luminescence, turning the whole town into a shining ball of light. The cave houses make the area look like it’s out of a science fiction movie. Everything is pouring with radiance and light. It’s almost unreal, and I can’t believe my eyes, but I try to remember to take one step forward at a time. I don’t want my gown to come under my heels and make me trip and fall.
After those initial years, I was never once afraid of tripping on heels or long dresses but tonight is different. I have also never felt so alive as if I’m on the precipice of greatness, ready to dive deep.
We reach the base of the rotunda where everyone is already gathered and seated on white chairs lined up in rows. There’s an empty space upfront where I see him.
Warren is standing next to Eli whom I had met on my first visit to the village. I can’t look at anything else when I see Warren. I forget the world and lock my eyes onto him, seeing only my destination.
There is space in between the rows of chairs, a path for the bride to walk through. Rose and Jessica take their leave and join Andrew and Joshua who are seated in the front row.
I stare at Warren and then he finally sees me. There’s a physical reaction in him as our eyes lock and for a second, I’m worried that it’s an actual heart attack. I know it’s not when he mouths the word “fuck.” I laugh out loud because he just said that in front of the entire village.
One step after another, I tell myself, before I arrive at the altar and reach for Warren. He takes me by the hand and places his arm gently around me. I feel the warmth and comfort of his touch, it helps me calm my nerves.
“You can’t say the F word in front of everyone,” I whisper into his ear, placing a light hand on his chest to steady myself.
“Nobody was noticing me, honey,” he whispers back.
I smile at Eli and he smiles back at me. His smile means much more than a simple greeting, though; it says, “I told you so”. I blush a little. How obvious were we from the beginning? And here I believed I was good at hiding things.
