CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
She was the image of perfection, the definition of beauty and goodness, sitting upon an empire of evil, and as I stood before her, a figure donned all in black, I couldn't help but remind myself of the irony.
But even Hell needs Heaven in order to exist, I thought while knowing there wasn't a place in this world where an angel belonged with a devil like me.
Still … it was nice to imagine that, maybe in another life, she could've worn this dress for me at our wedding.
"Wow," I finally uttered, stupefied and breathless in her presence.
"Do you like it?" she asked with her cheeks flushed red, looking down at the intricately woven lace covering the bodice of her dress and the crystal-adorned necklace that followed the curve of her chest.
"Who cares if I like it?”
Her smile was shy as she said, “Me. I care very much about what you think.”
“Well, I care what you think,” I countered. “Do you like it?”
She laughed and shook her head before looking up at me with a somber smile on her lips. "No. It's not what I would've picked. But my mom thought it looked nice, so that's what I'm wearing."
Then I don’t like it either, I thought as I tipped my head and said, "Why would you wear something just because she liked it?"
Analise shrugged helplessly, then replied, "Because this day is for her."
"I thought this whole thing was for Gerald," I said, confusion pinching my brows.
She deflated with a sigh. "It is, but it's just as much for my mother. She needs me to have a baby.”
The thought of Analise being pregnant with Benjamin’s baby unleashed something cruel and primitive in my core, and I had to close my eyes and clench my fists to keep from breaking this entire gazebo apart.
I wasn’t sure I’d be a good father. In fact, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be. But somehow, I found it in me to believe that it was my baby that should be in her belly, not his.
“She's constantly reminding me about how she's not getting any younger and neither am I,” she went on, “and someone needs to inherit all of her family's wealth, and blah, blah, blah."
She closed her eyes and sighed. "I feel like a whiny brat if I say that it's unfair, but …"
"No, it is," I agreed, tamping down my selfish fury. "It is unfair … not to mention disgusting and horribly illegal."
Her rosy lips curved into a sorrowful smile as she looked up toward my mask. "You say that like any of them strive to be law-abiding citizens."
She was joking, trying to make light of the situation, but it fell flat, and her smile fell with it.
Her lips opened, as if she wanted to say something, but her breath caught in her throat, and she looked away toward the smattering of boats floating along the surface of crystalline water.
Her gaze softened with faraway melancholy, and with a silent dare, I lifted my hand to brush the back of my knuckles against her cheek.
Analise's eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she leaned into my touch before her attention was returned to the harbor.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked, my voice low and whispered.
"No, I was just …" She licked her lips as her hesitation held on tight.
There was something on her mind, something she didn’t want to say.
"What is it?" I coaxed gently, brushing my gloved fingertips against her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Wishing I could touch her, skin on skin. Wishing I could know what she felt like beneath my fingertips.
She pulled in a deep breath, giving her head a quick shake.
"It's stupid. It's …" Then she let the water re-captivate her as she fell once again into the recesses of her memory.
"When I was a little girl, I was in the foster system.
I told you about that. There was this one house I was placed in, and the man there was …
" Her voice trembled as her eyes flooded with tears.
"God, he was awful. There were a bunch of us in there—kids, I mean—but he would do … horrible things to me."
I swallowed and barely moved my head in a nod. "I dealt with quite a few of those," I admitted.
A tear escaped from between her lashes, and with my thumb, I caught it, not allowing it to fall.
"But you know what's funny?" she asked, watching the boats skate along the water.
"Even though those were some of the worst memories of my life, being in that house had some of the best memories too.
Because I made a friend—this boy—and he would sometimes walk me down to the water, and we'd watch the boats take off from the dock, and we'd imagine what it would be like to be rich enough to actually have one. "
She laughed, as if something was funny, but, oh God, nothing was funny at all.
Not as my vision began to blacken around the edges.
Not as a wave of lightheadedness swept over me like a wild oceanic wave, threatening to knock me over and send me spiraling through a vortex.
How did I not see it before?
I did though, didn’t I? I’ve been seeing it all this time.
But every time I started to think she could be her, I’d talk myself out of it.
I didn’t want to believe it.
Oh my God …
"Tell me more about him," I found myself saying, though my voice sounded far away, like I wasn’t speaking at all.
Her face lit up with the widest, most brilliant smile I'd ever seen in my life, her eyes sparkling like the diamonds at the ocean’s surface, and all I could think was, That's exactly how a woman should look on the day of her wedding.
Blissful.
Happy.
God, she looked so happy, talking and thinking about a boy from her past.
A boy just like … I closed my eyes to the unfinished thought. Scared for it to be true, while knowing what I should’ve allowed myself to know all along.
"Oh God, he was terrible," she said, her voice giddy and bright.
"Terrible, huh?" I asked as an ache so terrific swelled deep inside my chest.
She nodded. "I was the only girl in the foster home, and all the other boys kinda …
I don't know … they didn't care much about me. But he and I … we had this bond, I guess. And he looked out for me, and he was my friend, even though I had this insane crush on him. I don’t even know if he knew about that, but … "
She laughed, beside herself, and I closed my eyes, wondering how I allowed myself to be so blind when, for years, all I had ever wanted was just to find her.
"He was a lot older than me though. I was seven or eight, and he was about twelve, I think.
And, anyway, he would pick me up after school so I wouldn't have to walk home alone, and sometimes, we'd stop by the gas station on the way back, and he'd steal us candy and sodas," she said, still laughing.
"He'd put all this stuff in his backpack, and we'd run for blocks before finally eating anything.
And we'd do this so often that the guy who owned the store probably knew that was what we were up to, but we never put it together, and he never stopped us.
He probably just felt bad for us, these two dumb kids with dirty clothes and … "
She stopped herself as her emotion threatened to steal her composure away, and she covered her hand with her mouth as I moved my palm around to the back of her neck, anchoring my soul to hers and wishing I could tell her.
Wishing she could know.
Wishing the truth wouldn’t damn us both.
"A lot of people probably wouldn't think he was a good kid to be hanging around with, but the thing was, awful things were happening to all of us, and he still managed to put me before himself.
He was my safe place," she whispered. "And I never forgot about him.
It was so long ago, but I never ever forgot about him, and sometimes, when horrible things happen to me now, I still think about him.
I think about the way he made me feel, and then I realize that he's still my safe place, even if he only exists in my mind.
And I think … I think that's why I'm so drawn to you.
You're like him in that way. You make me feel safe, and when I need you, you always come.
No questions asked … just like him. And sometimes …
" Her voice trailed off as she slowly shook her head.
“What?” I asked a little too anxiously for my tastes.
“No, it’s …” She swallowed before gasping with a sharp inhale of trembling breath. “It’s stupid.”
Desperation clawed at my throat as I said, “Please. Tell me.”
She released a forlorn sigh and licked her lips before saying, “Sometimes … I wonder if you could be him, and I wish … oh God, I wish that … you—"
"What was his name?" I asked, my voice barely audible above the call of seagulls overhead.
The air left her lungs as the smile fell from her face, paving the way for something forlorn as she swallowed and whispered, "Abraham. His name was Abraham."
The sun was still shining, and the ground was still beneath our feet, as if the atmosphere itself hadn’t just blown apart at the sound of my name leaving her lips.
Hearing her say it, as clear as the sky above, felt like a piece of a puzzle falling into place.
And just like that, something that'd been left to die within my soul was suddenly revived, reborn, and as I filled my lungs, it was as if I were taking my first breath.
Anna, I thought, longing to say her name out loud.
Oh God, Anna, it is me. I'm here. I’m right here.
But I couldn't tell her that. I couldn’t confirm what she herself had admitted to wondering. She couldn't know. She couldn’t ever know. Knowing would put her in more danger than she already was. And if Gerald ever found out who she was to me, if Virginia ever knew …
I couldn’t begin to imagine what they’d do.
But that didn't mean I couldn't protect her, and, fuck, that was exactly what I was going to do.
I had to.
"I need you to listen to me, Princess," I said, tightening my hold on the back of her neck and drawing her attention to me.
The spell was broken, and she returned to the present, bringing her wide-eyed gaze to mine.
"Are you listening?" I asked with urgency. “Answer me. Tell me you’re listening.”