Epilogue
RAIDEN
One Year Later
In the Retreat’s ballroom, I sit at a table with Margot, Aurora, and her friend Ellie. Guests fill the tables, all of them wearing masks, the mood lighting flickering orange and red around the room. Outside, a tame storm is bubbling, not raging like last year’s weather.
Standing on a raised section, Grandma taps a spoon against her champagne glass. The room quiets and turns to her.
“Most of you know I planned on cancelling the Annual Grand Masquerade Retreat after last year’s terrible incident. I thought it had been clouded with darkness forever. But then I had a conversation with the late Mr. Grayson’s wife, Julia, and she was the one who convinced me to keep going.”
Grandma clears her throat.
“Her words had a heavy impact on me,” she goes on.
“She said that we all have stresses in our lives, we all feel bleak and hopeless at times, but the Retreat gives us a chance to forget, to put on a mask and be someone else… and, she said, and this was what hit me the hardest, putting on a mask allows us to become who we were all along. So, thank you all for coming. And enjoy!”
After a round of applause, Grandma adds, “And also please be comforted by the fact we have updated our security and have police officers on hand on the island. There will not be a repeat of last year. Ever.”
Once her speech is done, people stand from their tables and begin mingling. My heart won’t stop hammering, excitement mixed with nerves and certainty.
This past year has been the best of my life, hands down, no competition. Once Margot recovered, Aurora returned to college to complete half a semester while taking orders from the high-end clients I could acquire for her.
I built her a shop in New York and bought an apartment there for us. Moving in seemed like a no-brainer. We didn’t even discuss it, not really. It was like we naturally slid into the living situation.
Waking up next to her every day has been heaven.
Aurora is wearing a hip-hugging purple piece of her own design. Her style is so coveted because she has a way of weaving the fabric as though it’s shadow, making it rest against the wearer in a flattering way that touches all of her most attractive aspects.
Hell, with Aurora, that’s not even remotely difficult. Every part of her is magnetic. She’s wearing a matching mask, silver studs complementing it, glittering in the chandelier light.
When I see her busy talking with her friend, Ellie, I move toward the raised section where Grandma made her speech. Margot walks into my path. I smile, always happy to see and speak with her. She’s improved massively since last year, and we’ve bonded plenty too.
She wears a mask that seems fitting, brightly colored, with a big smile painted onto it. “Is it time?” she asks, moving close to me.
I swallow. “Yeah. It’s time.”
She touches my arm. “You don’t need to be nervous. You love her, right?”
My heart glows as I think back to the first time we said I love you to each other. We’d just moved in and made love. We were lying in bed together. She looked up at me, her hand on my chest.
“I think I’m ready for a new mask,” she murmured.
“Yeah?” I whispered, kissing her on the forehead. “What kind of mask?”
She walked her fingers up my chest. “I think you know…”
I wasn’t entirely sure, but I blurted it out anyway. I’d been feeling it for weeks, maybe months, the love bursting through and spreading like wildfire.
“Yes,” I tell Margot. “More than anything.”
“She loves you, too.”
“Thank you for your blessing,” I say.
“I can’t think of anyone better. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
We share a quick hug, then I go onto the raised section.
I take a microphone and look down at the room, where the guests are mingling. When the music dims and the spotlight shines on me, my heart begins to pound.
“Most of you know me,” I say, my voice filling the room.
“But what most of you don’t know is that I’ve spent large portions of my life gripped by darkness.
I’m often haunted by nightmares from my time in the Marines.
Most of you won’t know that, for a long, long time, I thought I’d never find anyone.
I never thought I’d have a real connection.
I’d come to terms with it. This wasn’t a mask. It was who I was.”
A second spotlight shines on Aurora, glistening off her mask, illuminating her gorgeous shape and the expert work of her dress.
“Then I met my Aurora, my light, my perfection,” I go on, causing several women to gasp, but I’ve only got eyes for Aurora.
“The moment I saw her, I knew she was special. She’s talented, funny, and fierce.
She’s human, vulnerable, and real. She’s unsure at times, certain at others.
She’s a woman who will never stop obsessing about me. ”
I slowly walk down the steps toward her.
“Aurora,” I say, dropping the mic when I get close enough. “Aurora…”
My voice shakes as I struggle to keep it together. Emotion threatens to overcome me. My mind flits with vignettes from the past year, the horror movie nights, the discussions about her passion, her work. The simple act of being together without feeling the need to say a single word.
The passionate sex, sometimes with her being my plaything, and sometimes intense lovemaking that goes beyond the physical.
I tear off my mask, drop it, then reach up and gently remove hers. Her eyes glisten with tears, and her kissable lips tremble.
“You’ve always been the one,” I tell her. “From the very beginning, you made me feel like no other woman ever has–ever could. I know you’re not as dramatic as I am.”
She laughs at my ironic tone, then grabs my lapels and pulls herself closer. The whole room is silent, watching us, transfixed, but we’ve only got eyes for each other.
“But I know you felt it too,” I go on.
“I did,” she whispers through a sob.
“I love you, Aurora,” I say, reaching into my jacket pocket.
She gasps, taking a step back, her hand flying to her mouth when she sees the ring box.
I lower myself to one knee and open the ring box, showing a brilliant, cushion-cut diamond set within a band with intricate vine detailing, hinting at the Halloween theme with two orange gemstones on either side.
“Aurora Maren,” I say, “will you marry me?”
For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. She stares down at me as tears streak down her face, somehow making her even more beautiful. Her love brings her perfection up a few notches, which shouldn’t even make sense.
How can she make perfect more perfect?
“Yes!” she exclaims.
I slide the ring onto her finger and then leap to my feet, pulling her in for a hug. All around us, people applaud and cheer.