Her eyes moved to the veil hanging over the chair then, and she ran her thumb along an embroidered flower. “Is this the one Mike brought from Australia when his parents forced him to come home for Christmas?”
“Yeah.” I laughed, remembering how much I’d cried when he handed me the box with this inside. “He said it was the only reason he didn’t protest having to go home.”
“I can’t believe he thought to keep this when he and his mom cleared out your old house. What a sweetheart.”
“He really is,” I said, thinking of his warm smile. “And, did I tell you he even paid for the entire phone bill we ran up while he was back home?”
“Aw, that’s so like him, though.”
“I know. I think I did pretty well in the fiancé department,” I mused. “He said it was small change in the greater scheme of things.”
“He’s a keeper,” she said. And he was. That was true.
Emily reached over and plucked a thread from the yellow cherry blossom on my dress, the collection flowing like a swarm of butterflies over the fitted bodice. “Are you happy with your dress?”
“Still not sold on the full hoop skirt.” I faced the mirror and ran my hands down it, angling myself this way and that to get a better look. “But if I didn’t choose an out-there color, like yellow, Vicki would have made me accent everything with red.”
No one could ever understand what the red rose once meant to me; how it represented the part of me that would always belong to David. And yes, it was a different time, but I wished it were a different life. It had caused massive debates, though, because red was a pretty common color to use in weddings, and Vicki just couldn’t understand my aversion. But Mike stepped in and told her it was my choice.
She meant well, and I gave in on most things, like the dress, but I couldn’t let this one slide.
“Oh!” We both looked up 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 humored 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.
“Come on.” Emily patted my arm. “It’s nearly time. Let’s put this veil on.”
I lifted my 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.”
“You know me too well.” I smirked. “So, where’s Alana?”
“Finishing her hair. And still trying to practice walking in those heels.”
“I hope she doesn’t trip over.”
“No one will notice,” she muttered with a few bobby pins between her lips, “they won’t be able to see past you.”
With the veil in my hair, Emily took a step back. Adoration flooded her eyes, like a little girl getting her first kitten.
“Does it look nice?” I asked, touching my fingertips to the meshy fabric.
“Oh my God!” Alana squealed.
“Don’t cry,” Emily warned. “I’m not re-doing your makeup.”
“I’m not. I’m not. Aw, Ara,” Alana hummed, waving her hands near her moistening eyes. “You’re so pretty.”
“Thanks. You look nice too.”
“I know.” She curtsied. “Ryan said his heart stopped beating when he saw me.”
“Aw,” Emily and I said.
“I know.” Alana walked over as I stood up. “He’s really sweet. So, you’re finally ready then?”
“Yep.”
“Now, you have something old.” She touched my veil. “What’s your something new?”
I motioned to my dress. “This will do, won’t it?”
“I guess.”
“Okay, here’s something borrowed.” Emily clasped her silver bracelet over my wrist—over the scar David left.
“Well, that just leaves something blue.” I searched the room, half expecting to see the bookshelf behind my bedroom door, where I used to keep a bluebird pin my mother gave me when I was little.
“Um, Ara?” Vicki stood nervously behind Emily. “I… I have something blue.”
When Em stepped aside, Vicki reached across the pale beam of sunlight and placed something cold and kind of heavy in my hand, cupping hers there for a second. “My mother gave this to me on my wedding day—when I married your father.”
I hesitated to look down at it, keeping my gaze on her teary eyes for longer than needed. But when I finally unfolded my fingers, I gasped. “Vicki! This is beautiful.”
“It’s a brooch,” she said, turning the delicate glass blossom in my open palm.
“But”—I stole my gaze away from it to look at her—“this should be passed down to Sam, shouldn’t it?”
Vicki shook her head and closed my fingers around the flower. “It‘s been passed down in my family from daughter to daughter; it belongs to you now.”
“Vicki, I… how can I ever thank you for all you’ve done for me?” I leaned in and hugged her tight, gripping the sapphire blossom in my hand. “I love you, Mom.”
“And I love you.” She drew back, blinking her tears away. “Now, enough fussing. Where shall we pin this?”
We placed the brooch, after much deliberation, to the largest cherry blossom on the bodice, right where the skirt met my hips. And as everyone stepped back to take a look at me, I drew a deep breath and squared my shoulders.
“So, that’s everything?”
The chatter of four girls suddenly burst into the roar of twenty screaming fans at a boy-band concert. I calmed myself to a picture of composure while they gathered their bouquets and then hurried downstairs.
“You coming, Ara?” Alana turned back to look at me.
“Um, yeah.” I nodded, biting my lip. “I’ll just be a sec.”
She smiled knowingly and walked away.
I wanted to stay in here and reflect for one last moment before my final goodbye, but the silence seemed to be filled with all the thoughts I’d been afraid of; all the truths I couldn’t own today. So before it could destroy my resolve, I wandered out quickly, looking back for only a moment before shutting the door on the warm yellow light of the past.
Dad came out of his room at the same time, and I waited in anticipation for him to turn around. His face moved from the thoughts of the day ahead to a round-mouthed, wide-eyed smile. “Oh, honey,” he said, raising my hand above my head to spin me around. “Look at you.”
“It’s not too overdone, do you think?” I looked down at the marshmallow skirt.
“No, you look perfect. You’re so grown up, so before your time.” He kissed my cheek, drawing away with a sigh. “I’m proud of you, Ara-Rose. And your mother”—Dad touched my inherited veil—“I know she’d be proud of you too.”
I nodded, looking down at Dad’s hand in mine.
“You know you’re supposed to take your engagement ring off for the day?” he advised. “It goes on in front of your wedding ring after the ceremony.”
“Really? Well, here, hold on to it for me.”
He placed my ruby ring in his top pocket with a little pat. “Are you ready?”
Ready? I wasn’t sure if that was the right word.
I inhaled a deep, shaky-yet-excited breath, and then let it out in a blast of panic. “No!
Wait. I forgot my bouquet.” I spun on my heel and hitched my dress up at the front, feeling it swish around the tops of my feet as I bolted back to my room.
The warmth of my yellow walls greeted me with the sun’s smile as I burst through the door and grabbed the lone bouquet sitting on the table. But as I turned to walk away, a wave of nostalgia hit me.
I took two slow steps back to where my bed used to be, and let my arms fall to my sides. It was so empty in here now. The crystals that once cast rainbows from the sun were all gone, so too were the photos on the walls and the innocence of childhood. They were all just a memory now, and it felt strange to be saying goodbye to a place that’d been such a big part of my life for such a short time. Despite the pain I suffered here, what I was leaving behind today were mostly fond memories.
As I turned to walk away again, a splash of a forbidden color caught my eye, resting in the hinge of the old mirror.
One single red rose.
Breathless, bonded to the spot, I stared it down. No one would have put that there! I was very clear. There were to be no red roses around today.
I marched over and plucked it from the mirror, dropping it as soon as my fingers touched the smooth stem. There was only one person who ever stripped the thorns off a rose before giving it to me…
“David?”
A silent moment passed, but he didn’t present himself. The rose lay by my feet, taking my heart into the past: one red rose—the single element of color inside a completely white bouquet—a scarlet representation of my love for David, of the part of me that would always be his.
I left it out because I wanted to move on, to forget about him. But he wouldn’t let me.
No. I shook my head and backed away from the rose, clutching my white bouquet tightly. I would not let his memory reside here in this life with me. The past was his dwelling now—long forgotten and hidden in a dark corner of my heart—like a favorite old book at the back of a shelf.
In the mirror now, the reflection of the bride holding a colorless bouquet was one of picturesque beauty, but not what I saw in my dream in what seemed a lifetime ago. This was a different image. I was no longer the empty shell of a girl I used to be. I had moved on, without David, away from David, and slowly, I was growing out of the mask I used to hide behind. Happiness was becoming a real part of my life, and it was because of Mike that I could finally be just a girl. Just Ara.
I loved David with all of my heart once, and when Mike came back into my life, my heart simply grew bigger. I would be okay without David. I knew that now. So, with one hand, I unclasped the silver chain from around my neck.
“I will always be yours, David,” I said into the mirror. “And you will always have a special place in my heart, but…” I laid the locket over the rose and stood back. “But this is me saying goodbye. Don’t hold on to me now. It’s time to move on.”
Outside, I could hear the chatter of the day and the excitement as the wedding cars pulled up, but if I’d expected David to respond, if he were even here, I was left disappointed. As usual.
My heart and my voice steadied then with the last of my goodbye. “I love you, David Knight. I’ll love you for forever, but it just can’t be with all of my heart.”
Slowly and reluctantly, I walked to the door and placed my fingers over the handle. When I turned back to look around my room for the last time, the rose and the locket were gone.
With faltering resolution and a tender heart, I blinked back the pain, and closed the door behind me.
Dad winked at me when I took his arm, and we walked down the stairs to the warm spring morning; the last morning I would ever look across at the school where I once met a boy. He wasn’t there anymore—no longer waiting by the grass for me to take his hand. He was gone, and I was moving on.
The photographer placed us in position to document the occasion before we could climb into the bridal car and drive away, leaving behind all the innocence of youth and the sadness of a lost eternity.
I looked up at the blue sky, just as I did that first day I came to live here. Back then, in my heart, I wanted nothing more than to go back home while, today, the idea had me stealing glances at my dad, Sam, and even Vicki, wondering how I was going to walk away from them. I guess life has a funny way of granting the things we want when we no longer really want them.
I came here alone, and I was leaving today with a heart full of family and friends who loved me. I knew that when the night descended, and I said my final farewells I’d cry, because at some point in all my growing up, I learned that home was built with the hearts of people you love; it was a place you knew you could always return, where waiting arms would greet you and make you safe.
And I guess, in that sense, I never really needed to find my way home, because I’d truly been there all along.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
1
My ears pricked to the thud of a car door being shut. I didn’t want to wake, though. Didn’t want to open my heavy eyes. Even as a dewy chill brushed my legs and a pair of strong arms circled my body, lifting me from the backseat, I kept them closed, knowing I was safe with Jase.
“Where are we?” I wrapped my arms gently around his neck, pressing my brow to his chin. “Jase?”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll take you to David’s old room.” He kissed the tip of my nose, squeezing me gently. “Just sleep, pretty girl.”
“Okay,” I whispered back, and in the dead silence of this place, the only sounds then were the crunching of his shoes over gravel, the scuff of them on cement as he stepped up, and a creaky door as the night closed in around us, sheathing us in a cool stony world. I felt oddly safe in his arms, with the warmth of his steady breath falling onto my face, setting my heart at ease.
Time seemed to pass like the beat of a heart, taking me easily along the wistful realm of sleep until I felt the soft, cool caress of cotton sheets under the length of my body.
“Jason?” I forced one eye open as he positioned my arms and legs comfortably under a blanket. “Are you doing that to me—are you making me sleepy?”
“Yes. You need rest.”
I couldn’t fight it. I just wanted to sleep. “Am I going to be okay?”
Wet lips lingered on my brow for a second, his breath coming through them as he spoke. “Just sleep.”
I wish I’d known, as I drifted away, that I was in danger there.
* * *
Last Year: The Wedding Day
Everything changed when I left the locket with the rose. My shoes didn’t quite fit. My veil looked lopsided. My wedding dress made my skin itch. I wasn’t sure I could stand to wear it for the next six hours.
Dad pushed my hand away from the bodice for the hundredth time on this short drive, shaking his head at me. “Stop pulling at it.”
“It’s too tight.”
“Too late to fix it now.”
He didn’t intend the double entendre, but I took it that way, turning my gaze to the bowl of angry clouds moving in over blue sky. Though the morning was bright half an hour ago, lengthy spates of fresh spring rain had wet the town and made everything muddy, miserable and sort of gray. As if it were a
warning of things to come.
“You nervous, honey?” Dad asked.
“Honestly? I’m calm.”
“Calm?”
“Yeah.” I frowned a little as I said it. “I can’t really explain it. I guess, maybe I feel—”
“Numb?”
My eyes moved quickly from the church up ahead to Dad. “Yeah. Numb.”
“Aw, honey. That’s not how you should feel on your wedding day.” He groaned, scratching roughly at his chin. “Please tell me I didn’t rush you into this.”
I smiled softly, not sure if I should admit it. “You kinda did.”
“Ara—”
“No, I’m okay.” I let him take my hand to comfort me. “I do love him, Dad. I’ll get used to the idea of marriage.”
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t ready?”
“I did. But you said I had to marry him before we could move back home.”
His jaw dropped. “I thought that would keep you here longer, not push you into a marriage you weren’t ready for.”
I coughed out a throaty laugh. “Great plan, Dad.”
“Aw, Ara. I’m sorry.” Dad shut his eyes, shaking his head at himself. “I was worried you’d move back to Perth and, you know… fall pregnant. Unmarried.”
“Dad!”
“I know, I know.” He raised both hands. “I just didn’t want to see you make a mistake.”
“Dad…” I slid closer and linked my arm through his. “I’m going to make mistakes, and yeah, that could have been one of them, but how will I know what I want and what I don’t want in life if I never make any mistakes?”
He took me in with creasing eyes, and a breathy laugh warmed his voice. “Now who’s the all-knowing?”
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