6 months ter
The day of our wedding was pulling closer. My entire body was alive with a thrum of anxious energy. Parts of me feel absolutely eted, and other parts of me feel as though they might explode from the sheer amount of fear I have. My mother keeps reassuring me that this is completely normal and that she felt the same type of pressure when she was getting ready to marry my father. Judging from the nervousness on her face, she was likely more stressed about this than I was. I couldn’t tell if her words were meant to calm me down or keep herself from having a nervous breakdown.
“All you have to do is to remember who it is you are marrying. And I’m telling you, the fear will melt away as soon as you see their face.”
I nodded at her advice, feeling a mixture of excitement and nostalgia. We were currently sitting in my little bedroom on the bed, surrounded by a sea of wedding preparations. My mother and I hadn’t had such intimate conversations in such a long time, and it felt almost surreal to be gossiping about boys with her once more. But here I was, getting ready with my mother for my wedding. The most important day of my life so far. She had helped me with all the preparations, and looking around to see the wedding things strewn across the bed, I realized just how hard my mother was working for me. She had done almost all of it by herself, making sure to cater to my preferences.
As she gently braided my hair, I could almost imagine the scene pying perfectly in my head. The little church, where we had decided to exchange our vows, was bathed in bright sunlight. The light streamed through the stained gss windows, casting colorful patterns across the pews. We had adorned the church with my favorite red hibiscus flowers. Aric had insisted on using them as a symbol of when we first began our journey together, a gesture that warmed my heart. I didn’t argue; the flowers were perfect. Aric didn’t add much to the preparations; he told me that anything that I decided, he would be happy with. He had only suggested a few things regarding food and color scheme. Other than that, he allowed me full freedom to do whatever I liked. He told me that he loved to see me enjoy myself.
My mother’s voice brought me back to the present. “You know, darling, marriage is a journey. There will be challenges, but facing them together is what makes it beautiful.”
I looked into her eyes, grateful for her presence and the support she had given me. “Thank you, Mom.”
She smiled, a mixture of pride and tenderness in her expression. “You are going to be just fine, my love.”
My mom stayed for a while longer and soon left the room, leaving me to my racing thoughts. I looked at the little cards lying on my bed, small invitations to give out to our close friends and family. I had sent one out to Ansel; it was the first one we mailed out. However, we didn’t get a reply. Not even a single letter back home. Recently, I’ve felt as though Ansel was drawing away from me. I try to tell myself that it was only the intensity of his training that he can’t keep up with everything, but even then, I felt a bit bad that he hadn’t bothered to write even a single letter back home these past few months. In the beginning, he had visited so often I’d scarcely felt that he was away, but now the only feeling I have is the emptiness of losing my best friend.
I try to draw those thoughts away from my head. I didn’t want to get upset over something like this. If I knew Ansel, he would’ve done anything if he had put his mind to it. If he really wanted to talk to me, he would’ve written to me no matter how tired he was. But his ck of communication only served to tell that he had either forgotten about me and the little town he came from, or that the nobles at his training center had finally gotten to him and convinced him that the little people back home weren’t worth it.
Despite all that, I couldn’t shake the longing for him to be at my wedding. To see me off. To be there for me. To be my best friend. The thought of him not being there gnawed at me, adding a yer of sorrow to what should have been the happiest day of my life. I pictured him standing by my side, his familiar smile and reassuring presence giving me strength. His absence left an ache in my heart, a void that no one else could fill.
As the preparations continued and the big day approached, I found myself gncing at the door more often than I’d like to admit, half-expecting to see his familiar face walk through, carrying the weight of all the years we’d shared. Every letter that didn’t arrive felt like another nail in the coffin of our friendship, and every silent day was a reminder of the distance that had grown between us. I wanted to believe that he was caught up in his training, that he was simply too busy to write. But deep down, I feared that he had moved on, leaving behind the life and the people he once knew. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and yet, I held onto a sliver of hope that he would show up, that he would prove me wrong.
I couldn’t help but reminisce about the times we had spent together, the secrets we had shared, and the dreams we had once dared to dream. Those memories were bittersweet, now tinged with the sadness of what might have been. I knew I had to let go, to focus on the joy of my wedding and the future that y ahead. But part of me still yearned for the past, for the friendship that had meant so much to me. In the end, I resolved to cherish the memories and to hold onto the hope that one day, Ansel would find his way back to me, that our paths would cross again, and that we would find the friendship we had lost. For now, I had to move forward, to embrace the love and happiness that awaited me, even if it meant saying goodbye to a cherished part of my life.
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As the day of our wedding dawned, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. I straighten my dress. I had picked this dress specifically because I knew how much Aric loved the color green. He always said that it complemented my darker skin perfectly. The dress is crafted from rich, emerald green wool, a durable and silky fabric. The bodice is fitted, with simple yet tasteful embroidery along the neckline and cuffs, featuring hibiscus flowers in gold thread. The neckline is a modest, rounded shape, framed by a delicate linen trim. The sleeves are long and slightly fred at the wrists, with small, embroidered accents. A belt made from the same fabric cinches the waist, adorned with a few carefully chosen beads and metal accents tied carefully in the back. The skirt is full and floor-length, made from several yers of silk. It is gathered at the waist, creating a fttering silhouette that moves beautifully. The back of the dress features a simple, ced-up design.
Our ceremony was simple, held in a charming, secluded chapel at the edge of the forest. The light streaming through the stained gss windows cast a beautiful, ethereal glow, making everything feel like a dream. I quickly gnced out the window into the woods where we had first opened our hearts to each other. Everything still felt just like a dream. Beautiful. Surreal. Perfect. The trees stood there almost like a testament to our love.
As I stood there, wrapped in the fragile atmosphere that seemed almost too perfect to be real, I felt a mix of joy and trepidation. The delicate beauty of the moment made me almost scared that one small movement might shatter it. My heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, knowing that this was the day we had been dreaming of for so long.
Finding myself standing at the entrance, ready to walk down the aisle, a flutter of nerves settled in my stomach. The absence of Aric’s family was a shadow that hung over our joyous day. I couldn’t help but worry about how he was feeling, about the unspoken sadness that this void might bring. I knew that his parents likely weren’t happy with him getting married to some peasant girl. I also noticed that he had invited no friends to the gathering. That stung deep in my heart. I knew that Aric had lost many of his sworn brothers and sisters in battle. He watched life fade from their eyes as he held them. My heart ached for Aric. My future husband.
When the music began to py, I took a deep breath and stepped forward. My eyes immediately sought Aric’s, and there he was, standing at the altar, looking as handsome as ever. His face was lit up with a smile, pure happiness radiating from him. But I knew him well enough to see the slight sadness in his eyes, hidden just beneath the surface. It was a sadness that tugged at my heartstrings, knowing that despite his joy, he felt the absence of his family.
Every step I took down that aisle, my love for him grew stronger. My mother had been right, all that nervous energy that I had previously suddenly disappeared as my eyes met his warm brown ones. I saw that sadness etched into his face, and I wanted to wipe away that sadness, to assure him that we would be okay, that we had each other, and that was enough. As I reached the altar, he took my hands in his, his touch gentle but firm. In that moment, the world around us faded away, and all I could see was the love in his eyes.
The ceremony proceeded, and we exchanged our vows with voices steady and hearts full. Each word was a promise, not just of love, but of resilience and commitment. When we pced the rings on each other’s fingers, it felt like a sealing of our fates, a bond that no absence could break. The officiant’s words echoed in the chapel, but all I could focus on was Aric’s face, the way his eyes shone with both joy and a hint of sorrow.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
At that moment, time seemed to stand still. I felt my heart swell with an overwhelming rush of emotion as I looked into Aric’s eyes. There, in the depths of his gaze, she saw a reflection of every promise, every whispered dream, and every shared moment that had brought them to this day. Aric’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a mirror to her own.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Aric lifted the veil from my face. The world around faded away, leaving only the two of us. As he leaned in, my breath caught in my throat. The room was filled with the silent witness of our loved ones, yet in this moment, it felt as if it were just the two of us. Aric’s hand gently cradled my cheek, his touch sending a wave of warmth through me. I could feel the tenderness, the reverence, and the deep love in his touch. Our lips met in a kiss that was more than just a kiss. It was a merging of souls, a promise of forever. The kiss was tender yet filled with a passion that spoke of our journey together, the challenges we had overcome, and the future we would face side by side. It was a kiss that held the weight of our vows, the strength of our commitment, and the beauty of our love.
Around us, the chapel erupted in appuse and cheers, but for me, the only sound that mattered was the beating of our hearts, perfectly in sync. As we pulled away, Aric’s forehead rested gently against mine, and we shared a moment of silent understanding and shared joy. And as we turned to face our family and friends, hand in hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness, knowing we would walk this path together, forever. As we walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, the appuse and cheers of our friends and family surrounded us. I squeezed Aric’s hand, silently vowing to be his strength, to be the light that would chase away any lingering shadows. Despite the absence, despite the sadness, our love shone brighter than ever.
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I watch from the shadows, my presence cloaked in darkness as the congregation fills the church. The soft hum of whispered conversations and the rustle of fabric are the only sounds that accompany the anticipation. She stands at the entrance, a vision of beauty bathed in the ethereal glow of the stained gss windows. Hidden in the dim recesses of the chapel, I remain unseen, my gaze fixated on her. She gnces around, her eyes bright with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, completely unaware of my penetrating stare. The flicker of candlelight casts dancing shadows on the walls, but I am perfectly still, a silent observer in this sacred space.
Every detail of the scene is etched into my mind: the way her dress flows gracefully, the delicate flowers adorning the pews, the serene expressions of the guests. But all of it fades into insignificance compared to her. She moves with a grace that captivates every part of my being, drawing me deeper into the darkness of my obsession. I stay hidden, my heart pounding with a mixture of emotions, envy, longing, and a possessive rage that simmers just beneath the surface. The sight of her, so close yet so unattainable, only fuels the fire within me. She belongs to me, even if she doesn’t know it yet. Every smile she shares, every touch she gives to another, feels like a dagger to my heart.
As she takes her first step down the aisle, the chapel falls silent, and all eyes are on her. My breath catches, and I tighten my grip on the shadows around me. Each step she takes feels like a lifetime, every second stretching out in agonizing crity. I watch her every move, my gaze never wavering, my presence a dark cloud in the periphery of this perfect day. No one notices me, lurking in the depths, but my mind races with thoughts of how it should be me standing there beside her. The man who waits for her at the altar has no idea of the depths of my devotion, the lengths I would go to make her mine.
She reaches the front, and the ceremony begins, but my focus never shifts. My entire being is consumed with the sight of her, the sound of her voice as she speaks her vows. The shadows are my refuge, my sanctuary, as I watch from the darkness, longing for the day when she will finally see that she belongs to me. For now, I remain hidden, a silent witness to the most important day of her life. But I know that this is just the beginning. The shadows will always be there, watching, waiting, and one day, she will realize that I am the only one who truly sees her, the only one who truly loves her.
I keep watching as she takes the hand of a man who isn’t me. The sight of her fingers entwined with his sends a jolt of pain through my heart. She looks at him with such tenderness, her eyes filled with a warmth that rips my entire being to shreds. He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve her dewy gentleness, her soft smiles, her loving gaze. I did. I earned it. I earned her. I’d been by her side longer than any of them, watching over her, protecting her, loving her from the shadows. And she knows it.
As if almost sensing my presence, she perks up and looks around, a hint of fear shining in her caramel eyes. Beautiful. She knows that I’m here. The realization sends a thrill through me, a dark satisfaction that she can feel my presence even in this moment of supposed joy. Her gaze sweeps the room, searching, but she doesn’t see me. Not yet. I remain hidden, a silent observer, my eyes never leaving her.
The ceremony continues, but my focus is solely on her. Every smile she gives him, every touch, feels like a betrayal. I clench my fists, struggling to contain the rage bubbling inside me. He doesn’t know her like I do. He hasn’t seen her in her most vulnerable moments, hasn’t been there to comfort her when she cried. I have. I’ve been there, always. She turns back to him, her face softening with love, and it takes everything in me not to step out of the shadows and cim what’s rightfully mine. But I wait. I watch. I know that this isn’t the end. She will come to realize that no one can love her as deeply, as completely, as I do. And when that day comes, she will be mine.
For now, I remain in the shadows, my presence a dark cloud over this perfect day. She knows I’m here, and that’s enough. The fear in her eyes is a reminder that she can never truly escape me. I will always be watching, waiting, ready to step into the light and take what is mine. I will capture the light that is her.
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Aric led me down the aisle and out of the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking as we stepped into the crisp afternoon air. The sun cast a warm glow over a quaint courtyard adjacent to the church, where a rge table had been set up under the shade of a sprawling oak tree. The area was adorned with simple yet charming decorations, delicate flowers in mason jars, a patchwork of colorful tablecloths, and the soft hum of conversations and ughter filled the air.
We found a spot at the table, where an array of homemade dishes and baked goods awaited us. It was a time for us to sit down, rex, and share a meal as one big family. The clinking of gsses, the passing of ptes, and the shared stories of days gone by created an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness that made the moment feel truly special.
I wanted to feel happy, and for a moment, I did. I should be happy in this moment. But something was gnawing at the back of my mind, a persistent unease that refused to be ignored. A once-forgotten feeling reappeared, sending an immediate shiver down my spine.
So they’re back.
As my unease grew, I noticed something glinting among the dishes on the table. My eyes fell on a rose hair clip, nestled delicately between a basket of rolls and a pitcher of lemonade. It was the same one that I had hidden all those years ago. I had completely forgotten about it, but now here it is again, ready to capture my every waking thought.
No. There... It can’t be. I kept that safe and sound. How is it here?
Panic welled up inside me as my heart pounded louder. The memories flooded back, unbidden and unwelcome, wrapping me in a suffocating grip of anxiety and dread. I gnced around the table, searching for any sign that others noticed my distress, but everyone was absorbed in their conversations and food. The clip’s presence felt like a silent message, a reminder of something I thought I had left behind. The festive atmosphere around me faded into the background as I grappled with the implications of the hair clip’s reappearance. This means that this person had once again gotten into my house. I thought I was safe for the time being because I hadn’t felt the same dread creep up my body in a long time. Perhaps Aric’s presence had kept my mind off things, or maybe they just got better at hiding from me.
Unfortunately, Aric seemed to notice my unease, “Hey...you okay? You look a little pale. Is something wrong?”
I quickly shook my head to dispel his worry. I wasn’t going to ruin this day for him by compining about something like this. I wanted him to feel happy and not have to worry about anything, let alone a feeling I had.
“Alright then. But tell me if something’s wrong, okay? By the way, I meant to ask..where’s Ansel? I thought he wouldn’t come today.”
I smile, soft and wistful, “Yeah..I thought he would be here too. But I suppose he’s too busy to look back at the small town he’s from. That’s okay...I’m sure he’ll visit me one day.”
Aric looked at me for a long moment, his eyes full of concern, but he decided not to push the matter further. He realized that this was sensitive to me and wouldn’t ever push me into speaking unless I felt completely comfortable to do so. His gaze lingered, a silent promise of support, before he turned his attention to some of my aunts who were showering him with questions and ughter.
As he turned away, I let myself wonder about the significance of the rose clip. Why, after all this time, did they start to do this again? I was just getting used to the feeling of being free from them, but they decided to ruin all of that on the best day of my life. Now I can’t even enjoy this. Enjoy Aric. All because they wanted to keep my attention on them. I felt a surge of frustration and despair. One day..this one day was all I wanted for myself. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone!
Lost in thought, I looked up from the rose clip, and my gaze locked onto a familiar face across the room. Darius was there, standing at a distance with a smile that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t move or speak, just stood there, watching me intently. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing with confusion and unease.
What was he doing here? Crap..mom must’ve invited him.
The smile on Darius’s face was unsettling, as he remained rooted to his spot. He never came close to me, never uttered a word. He simply stood there, his eyes following my every move with a disconcerting intensity. My fingers tightened around the rose clip, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Memories of our past interactions flooded back, each one tainted with the same feeling of discomfort. His behavior had always been on the edge of unsettling, but this...this was different.
Aric looked at me and followed my gaze to Darius, standing in the distance. His brow furrowed with concern as he took in the sight of the man lingering at the edge of the crowd.
“Is he bothering you? Who is that?” Aric asked, his voice ced with a protective edge.
I forced a smile, trying to quell the unease that Darius’s presence stirred within me. “Oh, he’s just family,” I said, my voice betraying none of the turmoil I felt inside. “He’s known me since we were babies, and so my mom invited him.”
Aric’s eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely convinced by my casual dismissal. He gnced back at Darius, who stood there with that unsettling smile, never moving closer but also never looking away. The tension between us was palpable, and I could sense Aric’s protective instincts kicking in.
“I don’t like the way he’s looking at you,” Aric said, his tone softer now but still filled with concern. “Are you sure he’s just family?”
I hesitated, my mind racing with memories and doubts. “Yes, I’m sure,” I replied, though my voice wavered slightly. “He’s never done anything to harm me... I think he’s just trying to reconnect.”
Aric nodded slowly, his gaze returning to Darius, who hadn’t budged an inch. “If he makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me,” he said firmly. I just nod.
The ughter and chatter around the table faded into a distant hum, repced by the cacophony of my thoughts. I looked at Aric, who was now immersed in a conversation with my aunts, his face lit up with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes whenever he gnced my way. He knew something was wrong, even if he didn’t know the details. I felt a pang of guilt. Aric deserves to enjoy this day just as much as I do. Yet, the rose clip’s presence was a shadow over our happiness, a reminder of past fears that I had hoped were long buried. My fingers itched to reach for the clip, to hold it, to maybe understand why it was here now. As I struggled to contain my swirling emotions, a soft breeze rustled the leaves above, bringing with it the scent of blooming flowers. It was a fleeting reminder of the beauty and joy that still existed in this moment, if only I could let myself embrace it.
I certainly would’ve let myself sit there and deliberate if Aric hadn’t grabbed my hands, his touch warm and reassuring. With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulled me to my feet and led me to the center of the courtyard, where a makeshift dance floor had been set up under the twinkling lights.
“Please...don’t you dare look so upset on our wedding day. Or I might take offense, my love.”
The rustic wooden boards underfoot creaked slightly as we stepped onto the dance floor. Aric’s gaze held mine, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and tenderness. He pced one hand on my waist and held my hand in his other, guiding me into a slow, soothing dance. The music swelled around us, a sweet melody that seemed to drown out my anxieties. For a moment, it was just the two of us, moving in sync with the rhythm. Aric’s presence was a beacon of calm, his steady heartbeat under my fingertips grounding me.
As we danced, the world around us faded into a soft blur. The ughter and chatter of our family and friends became a distant hum, overshadowed by the closeness of Aric and the serenity of the moment. He whispered reassuring words into my ear, his voice a soothing balm to my troubled thoughts.
“Whatever’s on your mind, let it drift away for now. Let me hold you and take care of you, my love. I won’t let go until that beautiful smile of yours lights up the room. Tonight, I want to show off the incredible woman in my arms. I want the whole world to know that this beauty chose me, and I am hers,” he leans his forehead against mine, “okay?”
I nodded, and I gradually felt the tension in my body ease. The rose clip, the lurking shadows of the past, and the anxiety that had gripped me began to lose their hold. Aric’s touch and the simple act of dancing brought me back to the present. In his arms, I found a temporary refuge from the worries that had clouded my mind. The dance floor became our little world, a pce where the past couldn’t reach us and only the present mattered.
