"Em. Don't. Okay?" I held a hand up. "Just don't. Say. Anything about it."
After a moment, she sighed. "Okay," she said. "Okay."
"Thanks, Em." I opened my eyes.
"We'll just talk about the weather then." She smiled a weak smile, then sat beside me on the bed.
"That's what I need."
And we did talk about the weather-the past, the present, the future. The coming spring, the wild winter, and I know a few times Emily wondered if I was talking in code, referring to David as the rain, the sadness, or talking about the attack when I spoke of the storms. And who knows, maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. But it was nice to just talk for no other reason than to exchange words in the company of someone you'd come to love.
By the time Dad told Emily to 'let me rest', I had formed a real smile at least twice and had managed to forget about the attack for a while.
"Em?" I said as she went to close my door behind her.
"Yeah?"
"Can you come back tomorrow?"
She pressed her lips into a tight line, nodding rapidly, then closed the door before I heard her burst into tears on the other side.
Rising from my first dreamless slumber since I woke from my nightmare, I drew a deep breath and watched the sun rise higher in the sky until it shone through my crystals, making a pale rainbow dance on the wall above my dresser.
I looked away; colour didn't belong in my life anymore. I wondered if it ever would again.
I did find one moment of joy in all the gloom, though, as I extended my limbs into a stretch and, for the first time, they didn't hurt quite so much. I felt the cold as if it were only cold, not sharp pins, and could actually find appreciation in the beautiful winter that set in deep while I was in a coma. It had been a shock to my nerves when I felt the sting of the frost on that first day they brought me home. But I actually liked it now-more than I once liked the autumn.
"Hey? Good morning. I didn't know you were awake," Mike chimed, leaning on my doorframe.
"I've been awake for the last three weeks, Mike."
"You know what I mean." He gave a simple smile. He looked rested today; his hair was still wet from a shower and the smell of his fresh, powder-scented cologne filled my room.
"Yeah, I know. I was joking around with you." I sat up in my bed.
"Joking?" He nodded, pursing his lips in consideration. "That's a good sign."
"So is general conversation." I waited, expecting him to chuckle. "You know, 'cause dead people don't talk."
"Oh. Ha!" He laughed once. "Sorry, I'm not used to the lame joke game anymore."
I shrunk a little. I wasn't playing the lame joke game. I was actually attempting to be funny.
"Something wrong, kid?" Mike dropped his folded arms and moved to sit beside me.
"Nah, I've just been doing some thinking."
"What about?"
"Stuff."
"David?"
I didn't mean to, but I stiffened all over. "Maybe."
"Ara-" He paused, seemingly assessing his words. "I love you. And...I'm your best friend. I always will be. But I'm not stupid and I'm not blind. I know...things...and I know that he-"
"He's not what you think he is, Mike." I cleared my throat, sorting out a response in my head. "You might think you've pieced it all together, but you're wrong."
His eyes narrowed. "I know you're upset that he left you, but I don't think I'm wrong about him; I really do think he loves you and he's just trying to do the right thing by you."
Cold shock washed through me. "That's what you think?"
He frowned. "What did you think I thought?"
That he was a vampire. "Oh, um-I thought you might've thought he was a jerk, you know, for leaving again."
Mike shook his head. "No, baby. Not at all. I mean, I...in the hospital, I saw the way he loved you. It was...undeniable. And I don't know what happened between you two, maybe you'll never tell me, but you need to know that, although that part of your life is over now, I'm still here. And you still have a chance to be happy."
"I'm not sure I'm capable of that anymore, Mike."
He nodded. "What if I could promise you you are? What if I could guarantee that you will one day find a reason to smile? Would you believe me-at least start wanting to be happy again?"
"I-" I frowned to myself. "I do want to be happy."
He went to shake his head, but stopped and exhaled. "Only you know the truth of that, Ar."
He was right. I didn't want to be happy, because being happy meant moving on from David, and moving on meant that I didn't love him.
"But I'm not giving up on you," Mike said. "Not ever. I don't care what you say to me or do to make me mad or hurt, I love you, and I'm not giving up on you."
My eyes watered. "What if I asked you to go?"
He didn't even answer. We both already knew the answer. But I wondered if he'd stay if he knew the real reason I was attacked-that I had let a vampire into my life, then followed one to my own detriment. And I wondered how he would feel to know that the core of my sadness was not because I was attacked, but because of David, because he was gone and because time, death, and tears hadn't changed what I meant to him and wouldn't, couldn't make him stay.
But Mike had stayed, even though everything he worked for back in Australia had fallen apart, and he would always stay, no matter what; if I was human, if I was weak and frail, even if I asked him to go. And that was more than I could say for David.
"You're a good man, Mike." My head rocked from side to side. "I'm glad I'm marrying you."
His frown softened and a broad smile spread across his face, like the light touching the earth at sunrise. "Then...you still wanna get married?"
"Of course I do, dummy." I slapped his arm. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I just thought, with the whole near-death experience and all, you know, people change from those things, Ara. I didn't know if you'd want the same things anymore."
"And you stayed? Even though you weren't sure?" Admiration crinkled across my nose.
His eyes narrowed. "Ara. I'm in this for life. Whether you marry me or not, I will always be here to love you, protect you, and be your friend. That will never change. Never."
And it really only sunk in right then, that I had missed this; all along, I'd been looking across the road to the boy I thought I loved, when I should've been looking right beside me. This was my saviour-this was my knight in shining armour. He always had and always would come to my rescue. "Good," I said. "Because I don't want you to go anywhere."
He leaned down and his warm, velvet smile melted onto my lips as his breath brushed hot against my skin. It was the first kiss. My first kiss in my new life. I'd been given the chance to start over-cleansed of all the mistakes of the past.
The hourglass had rocked and the balance tipped in reverse, but everything was back in place and, today, I began a new journey with the man I was supposed to be with. True love would be ours now and happiness would be in every breath I took beside this man. We would go on-live, as living was intended, and I would love him for forever-for our forever-because they'd always been the same.
Chapter Thirty-Eight.
True love, by definition, means "someone that is truly loved."
But true love must be reciprocated, or it is only excruciatingly unbearable and devastating-a never-ending lonely night in an empty room.
By the dictionary of Ara, true love means you could not live without that person. That the love you feel for them is as honest and deep as the love they feel for you-a soul mate-a perfect match. David was my soul mate, but Mike was my perfect match, and in only a few hours, we'd be sharing this truth with the rest of the world.
The presence of my hand over my belly was supposed to settle the feeling of nerves, like black bats had assembled in my gut and bludgeoned the ogre to death, but it didn't. And it didn't hide the fact that, in truth, I wasn't ready for this. But Dad wouldn't let me go back to Perth with Mike unless we were married first. So, I stood in front of the full-length, oval mirror, with golden light spreading its warm beams of morning over my bedroom floor, and let time pass around me-unable to control it or make good use of it; just existing as a part of its greater plan.
I reached across and tilted the mirror's frame, changing the image to the plain white of the roof. I couldn't look at the reflection staring back at me today; she was error, beautified by justification, painted in the form of a bright-eyed young girl. A young girl who was doing what was expected of her, not what her heart wanted.
I loved Mike, I really did, but the quiet prelude to the tempest had me wondering if I was doing the right thing; if marrying one man, when I was still in love with another, would perhaps destroy not just my life, but Mike's as well.
The passed winter was long and the blue memory of Christmas Day settled over my thoughts, blotting out the yellow of spring in my room. Mike's parents had demanded he return home for Christmas, and I spent the whole day on the armchair downstairs, talking to him on the phone. The bill was huge, but Mike just laughed and said it was small change-a minor drawback in the greater scheme of things-and covered the costs himself. When he finally came back, I had never been so glad to see him in all my life. I'd had so many nightmares while he was gone-one's that ended in him calling to say he'd changed his mind about me, or some where his plane crashed while I waited for him at the airport, and some where I slipped into the darkness again, and he wasn't there to save me. I needed him, almost as much as he needed me. So, maybe I wasn't really ready for this, but I couldn't live without him, either.
I shook my head a few times, releasing the shiver of memories, and looked behind me to the near-empty room. My bed was gone, the spongy white carpet dominating the space, while the new daybed in the corner had become a shelf for all things bridal, except the bouquets, which were lined up on the hallstand beside the window. It might not have been my room anymore, but it still felt like my room, except, like me, it was changed beyond recognition. My face, my hands, everything was polished and shined, shaped and fashioned to look like the bride standing by the mirror in her wedding dress.
The swirling vortex of time had swept everything up, and I was next-destined to leave everyone behind. But that was always my destiny, wasn't it? And one day soon, I was sure it would carry me away from Mike.
But not today.
Under my thumb, the white flowers stitched into the veil sitting over the chair back felt silky. This veil was one of the reasons Mike gave no protest over going home at Christmas time. He'd salvaged a few things when he and his mum cleared out my old house after I left-my mum's veil being one of them. I don't think I ever cried so hard as when he handed me a box, wearing that cheeky grin, and I opened it to see white tulle. He and Dad found it utterly amusing, but I was sure half Dad's tears of hilarity were owed to emotions he wouldn't admit.
Outside my window, the familiar chatter of my little bluebird friend formed the soundtrack to my faraway thoughts. I snapped from my reverie, tilted the mirror back down and watched the bird dancing in the reflection, bouncing happily as if life just went on. So simple. That's it; eat, sing, dance and play.
I wished I were a bluebird. I'd fly away-over the rainbow.
But life was not a novel and people didn't really get happy endings. I finally understood all the negative philosophical one-liners this town loved so much. They were phrases invented by smart people who knew life wasn't made of dreams, even though it sometimes felt like one.
David said it best, though: "Even dreams eventually die."
We're not the leading ladies of our own illusory films. This is life and we are real. The time had come for me to grow up and, if I couldn't live the life I wanted, I had to at least live the lie. Either way, they were making me move on.
I ran my fingers over the yellow and silver embroidered cherry blossoms, flowing like a swarm of butterflies over the fitted bodice of my white dress. I wasn't totally sold on the full hoop skirt and long train, but it had been a stipulation of Vicki's that she get to help choose the dress-without any arguments. The only thing we really argued on, the only thing I really enforced was that my bouquet be white, with only accents of yellow. No red. It caused massive debates, until Mike stepped in and told Vicki it was my choice.
Vicki meant well, but she could never understand what the red rose once meant to me, how it represented the part of me that would always belong to David. That was a different time; I wish it were a different life.
I took a wispy breath and felt my heart flutter as I pushed his face away from my mind. I couldn't have any thoughts of him today or I'd fall to pieces. There is, and never was, a David Knight. He died in nineteen-thirteen when his uncle bit him and turned him into a vampire. He never loved me, never promised me eternity-never existed. I was moving on, as he did-leaving all hope of love and destiny to the children who read fairytales.
They say that spring represents new beginnings; the end of the darkness; the cloaking of faux pas-the chance to wake up and start all over again. David would never be far from my thoughts, but I would live for the rest of my life without him in my embrace.
I looked at myself in the mirror again, at the bride, the woman that now stood before me: this was moving on.
"Ara? Are you okay?" Emily smiled at me from the doorway.
"Emily! You look beautiful," I all but squealed and hugged her as she walked over to me. She held me tight. Then, standing her at arms length, I smiled, admiring her dress. "Yellow is definitely your colour."
"Well, thank you for choosing such a tasteful bridesmaid dress." She smiled, running her fingers over the chiffon.
"I'm glad we went for the shorter dress-it's says spring to me." I tapped my chin.
"It doesn't feel like spring. It's so cold today." She smiled and tilted her head to one side, pausing there for a second. "Is it David? Is that what you were thinking about just now?"
A rush of hot blood shot through my stomach; I clutched my silver locket. On my own, with the four walls of my room surrounding me-closing me in-convincing myself I could move on was easy. But in the presence of those who proved life was still real and still hurt, pretending I no longer belonged to him made me want to fold over and cry. "You know me too well." I sighed, forcing myself to release the locket. "I'm gonna miss you, Emily."
"Don't worry, I'll come see you real soon. You'll see. And as for David? Well-" she touched my shoulder, "-Mike's better for you than him, Ara."
My eyes nearly leaped out of my head. "What! Did you just say what I think you just said?"
She laughed. "I know, I know. It's a bit if a turnaround, but-" she shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mike's proven himself in my books, Ara."
"Yeah, he's pretty likeable." My fingers found the locket again and held it tight. "And I am happy, you know. I do love Mike."
"I know." She nodded.
"I just miss David, is all, and-" I faced the mirror again, dropping the chain from my fingers and letting it fall, cool against my skin. "I just needed a moment to reflect on that, I guess."
"Oh!" We both looked up to the whimpering gasp as Vicki walked in and burst into tears-again. "My beautiful Ara-Rose. I can't believe you're getting married."
"Been that way for a few months now, Mom," I said and hugged her, being careful of my cascading curls.
"I know. It just feels like we only got you a few weeks ago, and now look at you-all grown up and leaving us." She wiped away her tears. "Oh. Look at me, I've gone and smudged my makeup again."
Emily and I exchanged a humoured smile as Vicki headed into my bathroom. The wardrobe she passed through was empty now. The rows and rows of clothes she bought me, the yellow dress, my box of pictures and everything else that made this room my own was on its way home now. On a freight plane back to Perth, which, after tonight, when I officially became Mrs Michael Christopher White, I would be too-except...not on a freight plane.
Emily let out a soft breath, half smiling. "Come on. It's nearly time. Let's put this veil on."
I lifted the blanket-heavy skirt and sat down on the stool near the mirror. It felt good to sit. I'd been standing for too long.
"No looking until I get this in, okay?"
"Em-my back's to the mirror. How can I see, anyway?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way, if you want to."