Chapter Twenty-One #2
Emmett wrings his hands. “We shared a bed. I did not touch her, I swear it. I couldn’t. It’s you I want. Only you.”
“I don’t know what to do.” My confession is thick with tears. “What if what we had back in England wasn’t meant to last? It
all happened so quickly.” I don’t mean it.
“Do you want me to let you walk away?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I lie.
The muscle in Emmett’s jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth together.
He says nothing as I walk out the door, but I hear a crash come from his room just seconds after it shuts behind me.
It’s nearly dawn when my door swings open. I jump in fright but immediately relax when I see it’s just Lydia.
“How was the revel?” I ask.
She perches on the edge of my bed, her brown eyes lined with gold the same shade as her gown.
She sighs as she sees my swollen face. “I’d ask which one of them left you in this state, but I already know it was Emmett.
He’s just been to see me.”
“How is he?” I can’t help asking.
“Awful,” Lydia answers. “And I’m sick of it. Sick of you both.”
“Sick of it? You’re the one who’s been lying to me all this time. You and Emmett played me for a fool.”
Her mouth is a grim line, but her eyes are soft. “I shouldn’t have kept his secrets for him. I was trying to protect you both.
I love the two of you so much, it causes me pain to see you hurting. I hate that I’ve contributed to that hurt. I want nothing
more than to see you happy.”
“We—” I start to argue, to tell her all the ways we’re doomed, but she interrupts me by pulling a box from behind her back.
She sets it down next to me, and I peer inside to see rows of neatly folded paper.
Lydia rises and throws my curtains open, flooding the room with enough pale dawn light to read by.
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask.
Lydia pauses in the doorway. “Just read them. The rest is up to you . . . to you both.”
She closes the door behind her. I reach out and open the top letter.
It’s dated August 28, 1848.
Ivy,
I wished to write you sooner, but I’ve been in prison and my broken hand has only just now healed enough to hold a quill.
But you’ve never left my mind, all this time.
If I were braver or crueler I never would have let you walk down that aisle and marry him. I’ll carry that regret with me
for the rest of my life. Could I have saved you?
I find comfort in knowing you’re somewhere better, that nothing can hurt you, that you’re beyond Bram’s grasp, but if there’s
anything left of you in this world, please haunt me.
Yours,
Emmett
With shaking hands, I unfold the next letter.
October 1848
Ivy,
I dreamed of you last night. Was that you visiting me? We were back in Kensington Palace and you were kissing me like I was
someone worthy of you.
Love,
Emmett
Winter 1848
Ivy,
Time has gotten so hazy. I don’t know when it is, only that I feel your absence in every second.
Come back to me,
Emmett
Winter, still 1848
Ivy,
It’s so cold and all I do is miss you.
Spring 1849, I think
The Others don’t celebrate the New Year, but I believe a year has passed because it is warm again and it was warm when I lost
you.
I’m trying so hard to take care of Lydia. It’s almost like I’m taking care of you, but I think she’s as sad as I am. We’re a sorry pair and some part of me is glad you’re not here to see it.
Summer,
Ivy, Ivy, Ivy, Ivy,
I may have said my vows to her but it was you who was on my mind. My very soul was rebelling against itself as I stood before
her and promised to be hers because I’ve only ever been yours. I’ll only ever be yours. Wherever you are, I hope you’re waiting
for me. I’m still doing my best to be someone worthy of you, but I fear I’m getting further from it. I didn’t mean what I
said to her, my love. The only person I’ve ever wanted to make a vow to was you. I picture our wedding all the time. I would
have cried as you walked down the aisle. I would have made Pig bear the rings. You would have been so, so beautiful.
I’m sorry.
Emmett
Autumn Equinox
Sweetheart,
Do you remember the first night we met in the carriage? Did you know that I fell for you, right then and there? You probably
did. You were always so much smarter than me.
Cold, again
Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me
I’ll be better this time. I swear it.
There are dozens more, but I’m crying too hard to continue reading, so I pull the most recent one off the stack.
High summer
Know that you live inside my every heartbeat. You’d say that line was corny if you were here.
But you’re not.
You’re not.
That’s the problem, isn’t it?
Are you haunting me yet? Send me a sign.
I love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. Ever will love.
I should end this letter with goodbye but I am still not strong enough.
Emmett
I wipe my swollen eyes and know immediately what I must do.
With the letters clutched against my heart, I run down the corridor to Emmett’s room and pound on the door. It’s just like
the first night I was here.
“Emmett De Vere, let me in this instant!” I command. I’m not even sure he’s in there, but if he doesn’t come to the door soon, I’ll try Lady Thalia’s rooms and then Lydia’s. I will not rest until I have found him.
But he doesn’t make me wait long.
The door cracks open, revealing Emmett’s devastated face, his eyes rimmed with red.
I push past him and dump the letters on his desk. “I wrote you too. All those months you were gone, I was writing you letters.”
He looks to the mess of papers and then back to me. “I want to fight for you. Will you let me fight for you?” he asks.
“Yes.” My skin buzzes; my heartbeat thunders in my ears.
“I am, and have only ever been, yours. I would have done anything to protect you.”
I tip my forehead against his and we breathe raggedly, but in unison.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
Emmett lowers himself to the floor until he’s kneeling in front of me. “I have loved you and I have grieved you and now I
am on my knees for you,” he says. “Ivy Benton, if you believe only one thing let it be this: I am yours, down to my bones.”
I brush my fingers under his chin and he rises. “Then can we both agree that we’re stronger together than we are apart?” I
ask.
He nods like he might start to cry again, his hazel eyes all glossy.
“I love you, Emmett De Vere.”
He rises from the floor and leans in. “I lost you once. I’m not going to be stupid enough to lose you again.”
It’s like this that Emmett and I have always made the most sense: alone, in a dark room.
He wraps his arms around the small of my waist and tugs my body flush against his, then crushes his lips to mine, and I’m
lost.
His mouth moves down my neck, to the sensitive hollow of my throat, and then back up. We both stand and he tips me against the back wall until I can feel every aching plane of his body.
“Wait—” I gasp against his mouth.
He lets out a sharp breath I’m not sure is a laugh or half a sob.
“What comes next? Your wife—”
Emmett groans. “Don’t say that word. I’ll get it annulled, I’ll get a divorce— I’m not sure how the faeries handle it, but
I’ll do anything.”
I sigh against his mouth. “And then you’ll join me in my exile?”
He smiles back. “If you’ll have me.”
“All right, then. One more trial to lose. Two faerie divorces, and then forever?”
“Forever,” he agrees, and kisses me hard. “I’ll never deserve you,” he mutters, his mouth moving against mine.
I pull back and shake my head. “If we play this whole who is deserving of who game, we’ll forever be unhappy.”
“Because I’ll never deserve you?”
“Because love doesn’t care if you’re deserving or not. It just is.”
He turns to face me and captures my face in his hands. They’re large enough that they reach from my jaw to nearly the crown
of my head.
“Let me love you, just as you are,” I breathe. “You told me your love isn’t fickle. Well, neither is mine.”
Emmett lowers his mouth to mine, and there are no flames or sparks or comets shooting across a distant sky. His lips yield
against mine, and the kiss is soft and slow.
It feels like coming home.