I turned away from him. "Have you ever just wanted to cry but no tears come out? So you just stare blankly into space while feeling your heart shatter into a thousand pieces."
The lump in my throat grew.
"I will write sonnets to the river of tears that you will shed for having to marry me," he said, in a low monotone voice.
His words sliced through my heart like a dagger. I turned to him, as he held the mound of material in his arms, his eyes, forlorn, and wide as the sea. I stretched out my arm and took the dress from him.
"There is no need to write sonnets for my tears. Tomorrow when we wed, I will kiss you with the kiss of understanding, and you will kiss me with the kiss of forgiveness."
"Why forgiveness?"
I turned away, ashamed to tell him.
"Do not exclude me, Rosaline."
"My heart belongs to another," I whispered.
"The man at the party?"
I nodded.
"Well, he is one lucky man indeed," he said with a smile.
I nodded, taking the mound of satin material still lying across his arms. What could I say without rubbing salt in his open wound?
"Rosaline, although we are thrust into this contract, I ask that you do not exclude me from your life."
I walked into the closet to put on the dress…my way of appeasing him.
I opened the door after cinching my way into the dress. "Well?" I asked, looking down at the dress.
He didn’t reply.
I glanced up from the dress, and he was gone.
What is it with men disappearing around me?
I turned to the mirror to take in the beauty of the long white dress, which was in stark contrast with the frown on my face.
Don't do it, Rosaline.
Gideon, you have no say.
We will see about that.
I paused, contemplating what he could possibly have meant by that.
I was quickly pulled from my reflection, by the sound of my mother's voice careening up the stairs.
"Rosaline!" My mother called.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Come downstairs."
Quickly, I took off the dress and tossed it on the bed, throwing on a pair of jeans, and a tank top, and proceeded downstairs. I stopped dead in my tracks when I caught sight of who was standing at the door.
"Rosaline, don’t be rude to your guest." My mother smiled, as she walked away from the door.
Slowly, I continued down the stairs, each step taking twice as long as usual, my hand clutching on to the railing so tightly, I could feel the wood splintering under the strength of my grip.
Finally, I made it to the door, glancing back at my mother and father, who had been standing in the living room, hand in hand, watching…just watching.
I turned back, biting my lower lip, nervously rubbing my right palm over my left elbow.
"May I come in?"
I paused for a brief moment, contemplating what saying yes would mean.
"What are you doing here?"
"Rosaline," my mother raised her voice, as she let go of my father's hand, and walked to the door.
I stepped back, creating enough space between the doorframe and my body.
"Please, come in," she said.
"Thank you, Mrs. Winthrop."
She smiled. "Please, call me Stella."
"Stella." He stretched out his hand. "I'm Gideon Moreau."
"Gideon, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said, taking his hand.
Gideon walked over to my father. "Mr. Winthrop."
My father stretched out his hand. "Please, call me Gabriel."
"Gabriel…I'm Gideon Moreau," he said, taking his hand and shaking it.
My mother chimed in, with all the etiquette in the world, crammed into one big smile. "Would you like to have a seat, Gideon?"
"Yes, thank you," he said, taking a seat on the couch.
My mother turned to me. "Are you just going to stand at the door?"
Slowly, I shut the door, my jaw promptly following suit. "What are you doing here?" I asked again.
Gideon turned to my father. "Sir, I know this is quite unexpected, and you have known this day longer than you have known me. But in light of the current circumstances, and the lack of time, I would like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."
My mother and I both stared straight at my father, who stayed silent, staring intently at Gideon.
My father's lips separated, but no words came out. He looked back over to me, and then to my mother.
"It's a little late for all this, Gideon."
"I disagree, sir, it is never too late for true love…a love that burns
more brilliantly than the sun," Gideon said, glancing over at me.
There must have been a million…no a billion, butterflies fluttering around in my stomach at that moment.
My mother stepped toward Gideon, twining her fingers with his. "In you I hold the hope of my daughter's happiness…I cannot go against Gregory…but do what you must as a man…as a man who loves my daughter more than he loves himself."
GIDEON
I squeezed her hand, cold as ice, yet soft like a baby's skin.
"May I say goodbye to her?"
She nodded, then looked to Rosaline, handing my hand off to hers. I could feel the apprehension in Rosaline's hand…not soft and inviting like her mother's.
"Why don’t you two go out to the garden," her mother offered.
I nodded, looking to Rosaline to lead the way. Slowly, she walked me to the back doors, which lead out to the finely manicured backyard. The small pond bordered with limestone, the backdrop for a tree swing. The weathered slat strung up by two thick ropes, tied to the thickest overhanging branch.
"Shall we?" I asked, motioning to the swing.
She nodded, then proceeded to sit, as I grabbed on to the rope and pulled it back. Letting it loose, she was propelled forward, then back to me. We were silent for a time. I don’t think either of us knew what to say. Back and forth she swung, like a child enjoying a warm summer day at the park. But I knew it was time to say something.
"Rosaline."
She didn’t reply.
I grabbed the rope, restraining it from moving forward. She turned to me.
"I was talking to you, Rosaline. Do not ignore me."
She stood from the swing, and turned to me. "What would you like to talk about? How I will be married tomorrow, and I will no longer be able to touch the flesh that branded me last night?"
"I will tell you this once, and not again. You will not marry William."
She chuckled. "How can you be so confident?"
"Because you are mine."
She shook her head, wiping a single tear from her cheek. "I wish I could believe you, and possess the same confidence."
I clutched onto the nape of her neck and pulled her toward me. "Tomorrow will not happen," I said, pressing my lips to hers.
I wanted the moment to last forever; a moment where her past or mine didn't matter. I needed all the seconds she would allow…to breathe her in…to touch her delicate skin. Still standing at the water's edge, the swing, slightly swaying in the evening breeze, I pressed my forehead to hers.
"Why does life have to be this hard?" She asked.
"It doesn’t have to be," I said, as she placed her cheek against my chest.
"I can hear your heart beat."
"What does it tell you?"
"It tells me of its ache," she whispered.
I glanced over to the still black water, the surface reflecting the stars in the sky. "Have you ever heard of the string of fate?"
She shook her head.
"The legend of a magical connection between two people, destined to be soul mates. A string tied to the finger of every person in the world. It stretches, meandering through the woods, the rivers, the deserts, and the oceans, attaching itself to the finger of their soul mate; wherever that person may be, regardless of time. The string can tangle and knot, but once t
ied, will never break.
ROSALINE
I looked into his eyes which were holding so much hope…unwilling to give up on us.
"I have given you all of me. I have marked you, and yet you still doubt what you know to be true in your heart," he said.
"It's not that I doubt my heart or yours…but how can one man change the bend of a river, or the crest of a mountain?" I whispered, resting my hand on his chest.
He looked down at me, his arms squeezing me tightly. "My sweet, Rosaline...mountains crumble to the ground from the softest of rains, and rivers change course at the whim of the wind. I ask you this…how can one man not change a simple piece of paper with a slight tear, scrawled with ink, easily blurred by water?"
I held my breath as I listened to the poetry of his heart spill from his lips. Nothing I could say could ever compete with the beauty of his words…so I didn’t even try. We spent the rest of the evening, in silence, standing at the edge of the water.
DO US PART
The next morning was a somber one, just going through the motions of hair and makeup, my mother finishing off my hair with an opaque veil, to cover the gray strands of hair.
"Darling, you need to keep this on at all times, okay? At least until after the Dàils leave. Even if no one notices, they will."
I whipped around. "The Dàils are going to be there?"
"Of course, Rosaline. This is the biggest union of two covens in decades, they would not miss this."
"I have a feeling about this day, Mother."
"Darling, everyone has that feeling on their wedding day. You just have the added angst of knowing your soul mate is out there," she said nonchalantly as she zipped my dress from behind.
"I cannot believe you just said that."
"I will not mince words with you. In fact, I am quite upset that you didn’t run away last night."
Her words shocked me. "Weren't you the one who said how horrified you would be if I were to turn into a runaway bride?"
She spun me around, and looked deeply into my eyes. "Yes, but that was before you had a soul mate's arms to run into. Like I said my darling, Rosaline…the best ten thousand lives this world has to offer."
I kissed her on the cheek, as a tear cascaded down mine.
She wiped it away, smiling. "Now, now. Don't ruin what we have already accomplished."
"Yes, Mother," I whispered.
All that was left to put on was the dress, but of course we would wait until we arrived at Wild Wind for that. It was only an hour before the wedding was to start, when I briefly saw Clare, resting her hand over her stomach, staring out the large bay window in the hallway, overlooking Wild Wind's back yard. I wanted nothing more than to run over and wrap my arms around her, but I knew this was neither the time, nor the place to mend our wounds.
Every now and then she would glance at me, the sadness in her eyes filling me with a sorrow that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy.
Pachelbel's Cannon in D began to play, as Celeste poked her head into the guest room. "Rosaline, it's time."
I turned from the mirror, adjusting the voluminous material, to present the whole look to her. My mother and I waited, with bated breath, as she pored over me.
She nodded. "Quite lovely."
I smiled. Although I did not care for Celeste, her approval was quite the relief.
My mother laid her hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Celeste, she is very lovely."
Celeste left without another word.
"Are you ready, my darling?" She asked.
I took in a deep breath. "I think so."
"I will be downstairs. You should hurry, I am sure your father is standing out there waiting to walk you down the aisle," she said as she turned to leave.
I grabbed her arm, yanking her back to me. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tightly, as our cheeks touched slightly. "I love you, Mother."
"I love you too my darling girl," she said, pulling away, as she blew me a kiss.
I turned back to the mirror, wiping away the smudged lipstick, when I heard, "You look beautiful, Rosaline."
I whipped around to the familiar voice. "Clare?"
She walked toward me, arms spread, smiling like the day before she lost her baby.
I received her with open arms. "Thank you."
"I am so sorry I haven’t been here for you," she said.
I pulled away, looking into her eyes. "Don't you dare. I have been the worst friend through your crisis."
"No. I was not in the right state of mind to accept a friend. I miss her. I miss my baby Paige," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
"My darling Clare, no one would expect any less. She was your flesh and blood."
"Henry has left me," she whispered.
"What?"
"He could not handle the loss, and blames me for it. He has asked for a divorce."
"That cad! How dare he?" I said angrily.
"No, no. It is for the best. In truth we were not in love, and I suspect we never would be."
I hugged her tightly. Squeezing her with every ounce of love I could muster.
"I love you, Clare."
"As I you. Now let's get you married before my mother has a heart attack." She chuckled.
"That would make the news. A vampire, dying of a heart attack," I said.
The brief levity, dried both our tears, dissipating any tension left in the room. I followed her to the backyard, where the courtyard had been set up with a massive tent like structure, built entirely of strung lights, all meeting at one peak. The chairs were of the finest white linen, matching the white aisle covered with red rose petals strewn about wildly.
My father had been standing at the doorway, waiting for me to arrive, his eyes widening as I approached.
Clare handed me off to him, giving me a slight peck on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too," I said, happy that we were on good terms.
My father held out his hand, twining his fingers with mine. He was dressed in a fine black bowtie tuxedo, his hair finely quaffed, and his goatee had been freshly shaven off.
I smiled. "You look very handsome, Sir."
His eyes shined with tears. "M'lady."
We stood firmly at the door, my arm snaked around his, as the music began to play. "Are you ready?" I asked.
"Are you?"
I exhaled. "Let us see, shall we."
I took my first step through the doorframe when I heard. Rosaline.
I took another step, looking about.
"What is it, darling?" My father asked.
"It's, Gideon."
"Where?" He asked, as his eyes started to pan the vista.
"I don't know," I said, as I caught a glimpse of the Dàil's sitting in the front row, watching me, with smug faces, as I walked down the aisle.
As we drew closer to the alter William turned, his face solemn, his hands clasped in front of his black tuxedo.
Rosaline.
I turned toward the tree line but could see nothing. My father handed me off, giving me a kiss on the cheek before he let go.
My face visibly flustered, William asked, "What's wrong?"
I smiled and shook my head. "Nothing."
We both turned to Gregory, who was performing the wedding, also dressed in a black tuxedo. His salt and pepper hair blowing in the breeze as he began to speak.
"We are gathered her today to wed William and Rosaline, in…" he paused when a gasp fell over the crowd.
I turned to the crowd, who were all looking toward the tree line. I whipped around, just in time to see four large wolves running in unison toward the courtyard.
One gray and one white, which I knew to be Gideon and Sabine, and then there were two more which were the color of dark chocolate brown. They were a majestic sight to behold, as they slowed, Gideon taking the first step on to the cobblestone.
Heavy whispers fell amongst the crowd, and as the wolf pack neared, the death dealers closest to them stood from their seat
s, taking fighting stances, their fangs growing to full length. While the younger vampires, who knew werewolves to be only of myth and fairy tale, fell over themselves trying to hide behind the death dealers for protection.
The two brown wolves, and Sabine, all stood tall, brandishing their teeth, growling loudly to keep the vampires at bay as Gideon turned into his human form.
Stretching out his hand for me to grab, he said softly, "Rosaline, come away with me; release what is not yours to hold on to."
I looked to my parents, the Dàils, then to William; all wide eyed, and mouths gaping.
Anxiety filled every cell in my body. I glanced over to my mother, who smiled and nodded, essentially giving me the approval to take Gideon's hand. Taking a small step forward, I felt a heavy grab at my wrist, yanking me back.
It was Gregory. "You will not disrespect my coven this way," he roared angrily.
GIDEON
The anger in me grew to depths I did not even know existed the moment I saw Gregory lay a hand on Rosaline, and all I wanted to do was take revenge for her and my father's death by ripping his throat out…but this wasn’t the moment.
This moment was reserved for William. It was his chance to take his place as a man in the world, and I would not take that away from him. I would have my day, and it would be soon.
ROSALINE
William stepped in, shoving Gregory in the chest, his grip from my wrist loosening as he fell back.
Standing between Gregory and myself, he said in a tight voice, "That is it…I will no longer participate in this charade."
"What did you say?" Gregory bellowed.
"You heard me, Father. It is over. She does not want to marry me, and I will not force her!"
I felt a slight tug at my wrist; it was Gideon, pulling me from the eye of the storm. He wrapped his arms around me, as he led me toward the pack, watching as William finally stood up to his father.
Gregory's eyes bulged from their sockets, their color red with anger. Taking a step forward, he reached back and punched William straight across the jaw, sending him careening over our heads, toward the wolves.
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