CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ARES NICOLAIDES
THREE YEARS LATER
YES, I LIKE WATCHING HER.
I told you that before. Haven’t it?
It’s a privilege I relish, a secret indulgence that consumes me in the darkness of the night. For in those stolen moments, she is mine and mine alone, a muse to inspire the darkest corners of my soul. And as I watch her, I can’t help but wonder if she knows the power, she holds over me, if she realises just how deeply she’s captured my heart.
I shrugged into my blazer, the smooth fabric settling comfortably over my shoulders. A sharp rap on the door drew my attention, and I turned to find Atlas poking his head in.
“What do you want, Atlas?” I ask, a hint of amusement tugging at my lips.
“It’s not what I want, it’s what we need. And what we need is your help,” he replies urgently, his eyes wide with concern. “Your wife is acting crazy.” I chuckle softly, grabbing my phone from the charger. “Do you really think I’m joking? I’m not,” he insists.
“Alright, Atlas. What do you need?”
“She won’t let anyone in the room, not even Aunt Coraline,” he explains, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Why?” I press, my brow furrowing with concern.
“Wedding nerves, maybe? I don’t know, but I’m not going through that door,” he shakes his head adamantly.
With a determined stride, I brush past him, making my way down the hallway toward her room. Adjusting my cufflinks with a practiced hand, I heard a commotion to my right. Aunt Coraline was banging on the door with eagerness.
“Alexandra Jones! Open this door now!” She demands, her voice laced with authority and worry. Aunt Coraline shifts her sight towards me, and gasps with relief as she rushes by my side. “I cannot do it anymore; do you hear me? I cannot do it! She better be out of that room and standing at the alter!” She raises her voice enough for Alex to be able to hear her.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s crazy, that’s what’s going on?”
“You’re crazy!”Alex screams out from the other side of the door.
“It’s alright, I will sort her out.”
“But you’re not supposed to look at her! It is bad luck!” Aunt Coraline whispers.
“I won’t, I’ll stay by the door.”
“I’m going to get a drink then.”
“You need it!”
“Oh, you little shit-”
“I will sort her out, go.” Aunt Coraline walks past me, muttering under her breath as I lean against the wall beside the door. “Mrs Nicolaides.”
“Ares?” Her voice came from behind the partially opened door, and her hand tentatively reached out, seeking mine. I smirk, gently intertwining my fingers with hers.
“What’s going on, butterfly? Second thoughts already?”
Her sigh was heavy with frustration as she leans against the door. “Nothing is going right, nothing at all. My earring is lost, and so are my vows. I can’t find them anywhere.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her distress, my thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand. I push the door open, “Ares.” and my eyes locks with hers. Aunt Coraline made us sleep in sperate beds the night before, something we haven’t done in years, and I think this is why she’s acting out because she is scared. I mean who wouldn’t be after everything we’ve been through. From looking into windows to hearts breaking and love forming. Alexandra looks up at me, and I am in awe of her beauty. “Ares you aren’t supposed to see me-”
“I don’t care.” I kiss her lips softly, her red lipstick smudging against my lips. She smiles. I can feel her smile. This is what she needed. “Lets get out of here.”
Her brows raise.
“Trust me.”
“Always.” I take her hand and she picks up the bottom of her dress as we walk out of the room, looking left and right before heading out of the church.
“Alexandra! Ares!” Aunt Coraline yells, with a shared smile, we broke into a run, the urgency of our escape lending wings to our feet. “Get back here!” Aunt Coraline’s voice grew more distant as we reached the grand doors of the church.
The guests stare in shock as we burst through the doors, the sunlight blinding us momentarily as we descend the steps. Alexandra tightens her grip on my hand, her trust unwavering as we dash into the open fields surrounding the church, leaving the chaos of the wedding behind us. Alexandra stops us for a moment, kicking her heels off to the side before falling into my arms. I look down at her, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ears.
I love her.
God, words cannot explain how much I love this woman.
Words cannot explain what I would do for this woman.
“I have something to show you.” I speak, walking towards the surprise, she follows behind me and we reach the glass house. I open the door, allowing her to step in first.
“What is it?” She asks, her curiosity evident in her voice.
“Just go inside,” I reply with a grin, watching as she entered the glass house.
The moment she stepped inside, the fairy lights illuminated, casting a warm and magical glow over the space. And then, as if on cue, the butterflies were released, fluttering gracefully around her in a riot of colours.
She gasps in wonder, her eyes wide with amazement as she looks around at the swirling display of beauty before her. She turns around, her eyes locking with mine. “I don’t need your vows; I don’t need anything from you. Just promise me one thing.” I step forward, her hands slide up my arms.
“What?” She smiles.
“Don’t ever forget me again.”
“I will try not to.”
She kisses my lips.
Not once, but twice, we fell in love with each other. This shows how strong our love is. It’s been a confusing journey for both of us, but one thing is certain: I’m glad I didn’t give up on her. She may not have fully recovered and regained all of her memories. But I enjoy it; I enjoy telling her about our memories and watching her reaction.
Bad and good.
Sad and happy.
Hate and love.
Night and day.
Worse and better.
Diávolos and Angelos.
Ares and Alexandra.
Everything does have an opposite.
I promise to love her, to cherish her, to be there for her when she needs me, to protect her from any evil, to give her everything I have in me. I may not be perfect; I may not be the dream man she deserves but I will work up to it. I made sure that she has set her standards to the highest, because that’s where she deserves it.
Now that same woman, is my wife for the second time.
She tenderly grazes her hand through my hair, and then gently cupped my cheeks, her touch sending shivers down my spine. Her touch is pure magic, making my heart race and my soul come alive.
“Butterflies?” She whispers, her voice like a melody in the night.
“Butterflies.”
And so, this is the end of our story, the final chapter of the book Joey is soon about to read and complain about.
Our story, our memories, and our love.
And it all started with a butterfly necklace.
THE END