All I Ask

by KT Webb

  “Take my hand,” D’Angelo instructed from the darkness.

  “Where have you been?” Aria asked without moving from the spot.

  “Please, Aria, take my hand.”

  Aria huffed out an irritated sigh and did as he requested. The touch of his hand felt like fire. All her anger and fear melted away for a moment. She was torn between wanting to melt into his arms and wanting to tell him off.

  “Where have you been?” She asked again as he led her down into the basement.

  “I went to London,” he began, “There were some things I had to look into in person.”

  “Did you ever once think you should call me? Just to tell me you were okay?” Aria fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

  “I should have called. I should have sent you a text at the very least,” D’Angelo led her into the elevator behind the set walls.

  He was close enough to hold her, but the hormones that accompany pregnancy had her in a whirlwind of emotions. She was so relieved he was okay but so angry that he’d left her without a word. A small sob escaped her before she could hold it back.

  “Oh, Aria,” D’Angelo pulled her into his arms.

  She cried into his chest, feeling the anger and frustration melt away as he held her close. He gently kissed the top of her head.

  “There’s so much we need to talk about,” Aria stumbled over her words.

  “I’m so sorry, I swear everything I’ve done has been for you,” he whispered.

  Aria was caught in a situation that seemed impossible. Somehow, she had to find the words to tell D’Angelo that she was carrying his child. The problem was, she didn’t know if she wanted him to know until the confusion over his identity was sorted out. If he was intent on protecting her by keeping things from her, she was afraid he would withdraw entirely if he found out there was a baby to worry about too.

  When they were standing in his apartment, Aria knew the time had come to expose the truth. He hadn’t turned the lights on because he was still hiding from her. If they were going to move forward and stop the terrible things from happening around them, he was going to have to come clean. Aria took a deep breath before making her demands.

  “After everything that’s happened, I have to insist on some answers. I will tell you right now that I’ve made up my mind, and I will walk away if you do not answer my questions honestly.”

  “I will do my best,” he whispered.

  “Are you in love with me?” Aria asked.

  “Without a shred of doubt,” he replied.

  “What is your name?”

  D’Angelo paused. He didn’t want to tell her that. Everything he’d done for the last eleven years had been designed to keep anyone from ever knowing who he was in his past life. She had him between a rock and a hard place; if he didn’t answer the questions, she was going to walk out of his life forever.

  “Aria, what are you asking me?”

  “I am asking you who you are. Beneath the mask, outside of the darkness, without the scars that you let hold you back,” Aria told him.

  “I think you already know,” he said.

  “Then you shouldn’t have any trouble telling me,” Aria crossed her arms. She wasn’t going to let him off easy.

  “My name is Erik Overland,” saying the name aloud was strange and foreign to him.

  “Turn on the lights,” Aria insisted.

  “No.”

  “Erik, we have a lot to talk about, and I want to see your face while you explain yourself. Stop being a pussy and turn on the light.”

  Erik laughed softly, “You’re something else, Aria. I’ll turn on the lights but understand that the man you will see is nothing compared to who I was before.”

  Aria took a deep breath and prepared herself to finally come face to face with the man she loved. There was nothing he could show her that would change the way she felt. If he wasn’t the one killing people to get to her, then he was the man she believed him to be. Erik had always been a decent person. Even when Aria was a child, she could sense that about him. He exuded light and happiness, just like Alfonse Durant himself. The lights came on overhead, and Erik came back to her. She was facing away from him, toward the desk and his music. He wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  “Aria, I love you more than life itself. I’m afraid your feelings will change when you see the man beneath the disguises I’ve worked so hard to keep.”

  Aria turned around to face him. Immediately upon seeing his face, tears formed in her eyes. One side was still as perfect as she remembered from years ago, the other half had been distorted into a rough mockery. He looked at her with fear in his eyes as she reached up to touch the scarred flesh.

  “Oh, Erik. I’m so sorry,” Aria whispered.

  He pulled her hand away from his face and dropped it in disgust, “This is what I didn’t want. I don’t want your pity, Aria.”

  “Is that what you think my apology was? Pity? No, Erik, I didn’t apologize to you out of pity,” Aria cried, “I apologized because a memory resurfaced while you were away, I recall seeing you outside of the house when the explosion happened. You saw me in the window and came for me. I’m sorry because it’s my fault you’ve had to live your life hiding away from others.”

  “Your fault? No! Aria, running back into that fire to save you was the best decision I ever made. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t save our parents. But I knew I had to save you.”

  Aria shook her head, “No, you didn’t. It wasn’t your responsibility; I was just a little girl. I was supposed to die in that fire, just like my father and your parents; just like you.”

  “But we lived. Aria, don’t you see that all of the terrible things that have happened since you auditioned for that play happened because we both survived when we were supposed to die?” Erik practically begged her to understand.

  “What do you mean?” Aria asked.

  “Drew! My brother did all of this. He killed our parents. He ruined my face, this face that destroys any possibility of us being together in the real world.”

  Aria took his face in her hands again. He closed his eyes at her touch, and a tear escaped to roll down his cheek. Aria pulled him down to kiss her, and he allowed her to lead him into the passion she felt. When she brought the kiss to an end, she gently kissed the ruined flesh of his face.

  “This face is not the source of any horror. Your soul is as beautiful and undistorted as the day you offered to have a tea party with me when my father was busy. Erik, my heart was yours when I was a child, though not in the way it belongs to you now. I love you, regardless of the scars you carry.”

  Erik kissed her again, holding her close and pressing against her. They had far too many things to discuss to become lost in each other. He never dreamed someone would be able to accept the monster he’d become. His burns destroyed more than his face, they trailed down his shoulder and arm. It had been hell to heal from, but he slowly figured out how to live a life without fear of rejection. Now he only feared the rejection of one person, and she had given herself to him completely. He ended the kiss before he could allow the moment to go any further.

  “I have a lot to tell you, Aria.”

  “Wait, there’s something I have to tell you first. There have been some major developments since you’ve been gone. I wasn’t feeling well, so I went to the doctor,” Aria paused.

  “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

  “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

  Erik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They had been so caught up in the passion of the moment that neither had stopped to think about using any sort of contraceptive. Aria was pregnant. Aria was carrying his child. How long had he been gone?

  “When?”

  “I’m eleven weeks and five days. I have an ultrasound photo if you want to see,” Aria offered.

  “Yes,” he breathed the answer in disbelief.

  Aria dug into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She’d folded the pic
ture to keep it with her. When she handed it to Erik, he stared, dumbfounded before dropping to his knees and touching the tiny bump that had begun to form.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I hope you’re not mad. This wasn’t exactly what either of us planned on happening.”

  Erik stood up again and took both of Aria’s hands in his, “Mad? No, I’m not mad. To say I’m surprised would be an understatement, but I’m far from angry. In fact, this only motivates me more to do what must be done.”

  “Erik, I need to know everything you know. I can’t be left in the dark anymore. If we’re going to do this together, we can’t have any more secrets.”

  He led her to the couch and sat next to her, “Where do you want me to start?”

  Aria considered his question. There were too many things she didn’t know. Based on everything she did know, she could accept that Drew was responsible for the deaths of Karen and Lena. She felt confident that he called the caterers to change the food order to include shellfish. The one thing that kept nagging at her was what happened on the night her father was killed. The one brief memory that resurfaced was the key to realizing that Erik had survived the initial blast. What she needed to know first was how Erik had drawn the connection between that explosion and Drew.

  “I want you to start at the beginning. Tell me about the night of the fire,” Aria asked.

  Erik had thought about the night his old life ended more times than he cared to admit. He’d gone over it in his head, trying to determine if he could have done something differently to change the outcome. Over the years, Erik had come to accept that he’d done the best he could with the situation he was thrust into. Erik always thought it was best if Aria didn’t remember what happened. She was only a child, why should she have to carry that knowledge for the rest of her life? Now, she was asking him to open that wound and tell her everything. Erik sighed. He knew it was one of those necessary evils that life often presented.

  “I’ll tell you what happened as I experienced it, then I’ll tell you what I’ve since learned about that night and the years leading up to it,” Erik offered.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “As a child, my parents had Drew and I enrolled in the Webber Academy as well as finding us private tutors to hone our abilities. I’d been working with your dad for five years when I was preparing to move on with my education. I was going to go live with my uncle in London to study with some of the European greats. My parents wanted to thank Alfonse for all the time he’d dedicated to me and my future.

  “They decided the perfect gift for a man like him was a custom metronome. It was a thoughtful present that would actually be used by the recipient. That’s the kind of person my mom was; she always made sure a gift had a purpose beyond sitting on a shelf. The day it was completed, my parents sent Drew to retrieve the metronome from the specialty shop. That was only a few days before we were meant to have dinner at your house. I remember my mom being so relieved that the gift made it in time. Nothing would have been more appalling to her than to arrive at Durant Manor without a gift for Alfonse.

  “I’d been working on my own gift, one that I thought would hold more meaning than the metronome. Don’t get me wrong, it was a cool idea, but your dad wasn’t motivated by things. He was motivated by feelings. I used everything I learned from him to compose my first original piece of music.”

  “For Alfonse,” Aria whispered.

  “Yes. I know, very original title,” Erik chuckled at himself, “Anyway, that night, we had a lovely dinner. By the time we were all done with dessert, you were beginning to nod off in your chair. Alfonse asked us to excuse him while he put you to bed. When he returned, my parents began to verbally thank him for everything he’d done to prepare me for my future. They apologized that Drew couldn’t attend the dinner; Alfonse knew my brother was performing in Newsies, so he hadn’t expected him to be there.

  “My parents handed your dad their wrapped gift, eagerly anticipating his reaction to the beauty and craftsmanship of their present. I excused myself to grab my violin and the music I’d written. I wanted it to be a surprise for Alfonse, that’s why I didn’t bring it in with me. As I opened the front door, I could hear Alfonse offering the proper ‘ooo’ and ‘aaah’ when he finally saw the metronome. I knew my mother would be proud as a peacock at her own thoughtfulness.

  “I jogged to the car to grab my things, I shut the car door and turned around just in time to feel the heat of a fireball. I know there must have been a big boom; there had to have been with an explosion like that. I don’t remember hearing anything other than the high-pitched tone that follows the jarring noise of a blast.

  “The car was far enough away that I was only knocked back into it, but it was out of the blast zone. We were parked by the garage, just below the wing of the house where your bedroom was. Because the sitting room was on the opposite side, your side of the house wasn’t damaged until fire began to eat away at it.”

  Aria nodded; she remembered the layout of the house well enough. Thanks to the one memory that resurfaced about the night of the fire, she knew that the combination of the sound and vibration caused by the explosion woke her from her sleep.

  “I got out of bed and went to the window. I thought someone was shooting fireworks too close to the house. When I looked outside, I saw you standing there,” Aria explained.

  Erik nodded his agreement, “I was stunned. I stood up and grabbed the things I’d been carrying. I just stared at the fire as it grew and flickered in the light breeze. A small movement caught my attention from the second story. I looked up, and you were banging on the window, trying to get my attention. You had no idea what had happened. That was when my brain caught up to the world around me.

  “I dropped my violin and music folder to the ground. The fire was spreading quickly; if I didn’t get inside then, I wasn’t going to be able to get to you at all. There was no way for me to climb to your window, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince you to jump. My only option was to run into the house. Our parents were adults, I knew that if they had survived the blast, they’d have already been trying to get out.

  “Inside the house, the fire had already roared into the foyer. It was creeping up the stairs. I don’t remember hesitating. I knew I would be burned, but my brain pushed away the fear of imminent danger to rescue you. Once I was past the fire on the first floor, it wasn’t difficult to get to your room; the flames hadn’t gotten that far yet. When I found you, you were in the hallway, heading for the stairs. The first thing I did was grab a blanket off your bed. I told you to stay put while I soaked the material in the tub.”

  Aria was trying to remember their interaction, but her mind wasn’t allowing her to remove whatever mental block it had in place. It was apparent that retelling the story was difficult for Erik. Part of her wanted to tell him he didn’t have to explain anything further, but the desperate need to know far outweighed anything else. She knew that if she was going to understand why Drew had done the terrible things he’d done, she had to know what happened the night they were supposed to die.

  “I wrapped you in the wet blanket, hoping it would shield you from the flames. I told you not to look. As I carried you out of your room and down the hall, I realized the fire had grown immensely. It wasn’t going to be possible to escape unscathed. Somehow, I’d managed to make it to you without suffering any burns; this time, I wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “We made it down the stairs. You must have been peeking out from under the blanket even though I’d told you not to look. You reached out in the direction of the sitting room and screamed for your father. I pushed your hand back under the protection of the blanket, but it was too late; you’d already gotten burned.”

  Aria looked at her forearm. The scar had faded through the years, but it was still there. In the wake of the fire, she remembered thinking there was nothing worse than the constant reminder she had of that night. Now that she’d seen what happened to Erik,
she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d lived.

  “The arch of the front door started to collapse, so I tried to throw you outside before it hit us both. You hit your head hard on the pavement and passed out almost immediately. I had to try to save the others if I could. You were relatively safe, but I carried you away from the house and left you on the other side of my parent’s car. I took off my jacket to wrap it around my face before going back into the house. Taking off that jacket was one of the most painful moments of my life up to that point.

  “Bits of the fabric had burned into my skin. When I pulled it off, it took layers of flesh with it. The pain was immeasurable. I ran back through the flames, looking for anyone who may have survived. It was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Not only had no one survived, but there was also practically nothing left of them. The heat became too intense, but I couldn’t feel the searing pain that should have accompanied the burns I was suffering.