Epilogue
Violet took a moment to look across the nursery, trying to appreciate a scene that would once have seemed like a dream that had no chance of touching her reality, but now she knew it to be one that she ought to start growing used to.
She sat on a chair by the window, a book open in her lap, the morning sun shining across her body so that she felt its warmth as if she was the source of that light.
By the wall stood Rose, with her back to Violet.
Her sister had a paintbrush in her hand, and she was busy painting over the fairytale scene with white so that a new mural could be drawn and then painted.
She hummed pleasantly as she did so, a smile on her face, as happy as Violet had ever seen her.
Across the room, sitting with her toys, was Lucy. She laughed gaily, and the sound was like music to Violet’s ears. Surrounded by toys, the one that held her interest the most was a wooden horse, and she pretended to make it gallop across the floor in front of her.
Sitting with her, his legs open so that Lucy was snuggled between them, was Rhys. He laughed along with Lucy, and he played with a stuffed bear that he used to try and attack the horse.
“No!” Lucy demanded as she pushed the bear away. “No bear. Horsey!”
Rhys threw back his head and roared with laughter, then he wrapped Lucy in his arms and fell backwards. She giggled as she went with him, and they rolled around on the floor together.
Maybe this is a dream? For there is no way it can be real…
“Why did you stop?” Rose turned from the wall and scowled at Violet. Her paintbrush was pointed towards Violet accusingly.
“The paint!” Violet cried and pointed as white paint dripped from the brush and onto the carpet. “Be careful.”
Rose grimaced and put the brush back in the bucket of paint. “Whoops…”
Rhys looked up. “I told you to put sheets down, Rose.”
“And I told you that I do not need them.”
Rhys scoffed. “Clearly that was a lie.”
“No, not a lie,” Rose said with a wicked grin. “Perhaps it was more a miscalculation of my own abilities.”
“Rose…” Violet groaned.
“I am sorry,” Rose laughed. “But to be fair, this room needs new carpet anyway. Is that not right, Lucy?”
“Yes!” Lucy cried, not knowing what she was being asked.
“See!”
Violet looked flatly at Rose. “Do not use my daughter to try and talk your way out of this, Rose. You could have asked if she wanted to eat paint for dinner, and she would have said yes.”
Rose flashed her eyes. “Lucy? Shall we have paint for dinner?”
“Yes!” Lucy cried again.
“Please refrain from manipulating my daughter,” Rhys sighed as she slowly stood up. He brought Lucy with him, and Violet’s heart soared as Lucy turned and wrapped her little arms around his neck.
She really does love him, as he loves her…
“Fine,” Rose sighed with exaggeration. “I will do my best.”
Rhys walked to where Violet sat. About to sit down at her feet, he was sure to lean forward and kiss her on the forehead. She accepted his kiss with a smile.
“Now, where were we?” Rhys exhaled as he sat down at her feet. He kept Lucy in his lap, and she wiggled about so that she could face Violet.
“Wait for me!” Rose hurried across the room and plonked herself down on the floor.
“Oh, are you finished?” Violet asked her.
“I will finish later,” Rose said. “But I need a good story to get me through.”
“A story!” Lucy cried excitedly. “A story!”
“A story!” Rhys echoed her.
Violet took another moment before she obliged.
It had been only five days ago when Rhys had returned to her home, in the rain, and asked not for her love, but for a chance to help her. It was a request that, once upon a time, Violet would not have only denied, but been insulted by. She did not need help. She was the one who gave it!
Rhys had made her see why she was wrong to believe such a thing.
For all of her life, she had put her own happiness aside so that she might help others. And in so doing, she had made herself believe that she did not deserve to be happy—or rather, that she would be happy only if those whom she loved were first.
Why could it not be both? Why was she not allowed to ask for help, as she gave it back? Why was she allowed to help Rhys change and grow and become a better man, if he could not do the same for her?
I was wrong, and never before have I been so glad to admit it.
As she had helped Rhys to change, he had helped her, and the result was a state of bliss and tranquility and, indeed, happiness that she was now willing to admit that she not only wanted, but deserved.
“Hmm, now where was I?” Violet looked down at the book that she was reading. It was a collection of short stories aimed for children, a favorite of Lucy’s. “Ah yes, I remember…”
She allowed a soft smile as she found her place. She embraced the eyes on her; the love felt in the room. She accepted that this was now her life, and that as long as she was willing to ask for help when she needed it, that it would be this way from now until… well, forever.
Finally, after years of struggling, Violet was happy and if that was not a reason to smile than she did not know what was.
The End?