Epilogue
MARIS
Rome in winter is beautiful. More so than I thought it would be. Outside of our hotel, snow falls and silences the noise of the city. The Eternal City, that’s what the book I read about Rome on the jet here called it.
An unending civilization. A timeless city.
Rome is exactly those things. You feel the past here because it’s alive and raw.
Everywhere you look, the fingerprint of someone long dead centuries before bares itself to you as if they’d only just left the room.
In that sense there’s a sorrow to it too.
The book I read also said “all roads lead to Rome” and in my case, they were right.
Julian brought me here straight from Seattle.
We’ve spent a month exploring the city together.
I go to the window and look out at the Piazza di San Marcello.
The city is magical. It’s changed Julian, he’s younger, lighter, he talks more.
Every day is filled with art. He’s taken me to chapels and cathedrals that I would have never found and glamoured us into places we had no business being in but it’s been worth it.
I’ve never seen so much beauty in my life.
He’s even painting. It’s not finished yet.
The easel sits in a corner of our bedroom.
He likes to work in there early in the mornings when the light is right.
I don’t know why it’s right but I listen like I always do while he works.
Naturally, the first subject for Julian is me.
I don’t mind it because I get to watch him.
I’ve memorized the look of concentration in his eyes, the way his brow furrows, eyebrow lifting slightly when he looks from his canvas to me, and the soft sound of his brush moving across the fabric.
It’s become a ritual at this point. We wake together and make love while the sky is still dark and afterwards, Julian brings me breakfast and an espresso.
He never eats anything with me, just heads straight to his canvas and gets to work.
I haven’t held a pose for him, just talked to him while I’ve had breakfast, but I did ask if he wanted me to try and stay still.
“No, you’ll look like a mannequin if you do. I always preferred my models moving. It looks better this way. Trust me.”
His mention of his models had me curious. “How many models did you have?”
“Too many to count. They loved me.”
I’d thrown a pillow at his head and we’d spent the rest of the day in bed. Our plans to walk the Colosseum forgotten. We eventually got to the Colosseum, though. It’s breathtaking in the snow. Today we’re going to visit the Chiosto del Bramante.
“Are you ready? There’s a church I want to take you to along the way,” Julian says.
He’s dressed and ready, in a long wool coat, slacks, turtleneck and leather gloves.
He looks made for this city. We both do after the stylists finished with us.
Arriving in a city with nothing but the clothes on your back isn’t so scary when your boyfriend has staff waiting for you on the tarmac.
Life after Vesper House has been a stark departure from my existence for my first twenty-seven years.
In all my daydreaming of a life outside of Vesper Point, I never imagined that life could be this sweet.
I began to realize it though on the night we arrived in Rome and Julian turned me.
“This is just the beginning. We have lifetimes for me to lay this world at your feet, wife. This world is yours. Anything you desire is yours.”
“The only thing I desire is you. Just you.”
It had only hurt a little at the start, but then it felt like going to sleep, like my body was floating away. When I woke up in his arms I was born anew. I felt new. Like every dark part of me was mine, all mine. None of it was Isla’s or forced there by someone else.
I was in possession of myself. All of me.
No one ever tells you that’s power. Everything that I am is because I’ve willed it so.
“A church?” I grab my bag and go to Julian. “What kind of church?”
“The very old kind where they marry demons like us.”
I don’t even pretend to put up a fight. I let Julian force me into a coat and a pair of gloves and lead me out of our hotel and onto the street.
I never wanted to marry anyone because it felt like setting myself up for failure.
Sentencing myself to lose the person I loved the most because that’s what it was to me, but not anymore.
“Stay close.” Julian wraps an arm around me when a group of loud tourists comes too near.
“You’re not hungry?” I ask and he laughs.
“No, I want to get married.”
I give the tourists a last lingering look and sigh, leaning against him while we walk. “Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re starving.”
Julian grabs me and picks me up. He carries me ahead of him without looking so I have to turn to make sure the street is clear. It is but Julian already knew that. Rome is slower in the winter.
I push at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying my bride to the church. I’ll not be stopped.”
“Not even by me?” I ask, leaning down to look at him. A snowflake falls on his check, another on his eyelashes. He looks so beautiful like this.
“Especially not you.” Julian pulls me into a kiss before I can say another word and that’s how we get to the church—in love and with me in Julian’s arms. I have no doubt this is exactly how we will get everywhere for the rest of our existence.
All my life, I was food for someone else, my days numbered by a monster I didn’t know, but that’s over now.
This life is mine, and so are all my days.
And, when it all finally ends, it will be at Julian’s side that I’ll be buried deep.
Demon or not.
Julian is my salvation.
My angel.