“I’m sorry,” he said, but his tone was anything but contrite. Then he opened the box and slipped the ring on my finger.
It was exquisite, of course; I had expected nothing less. The delicate filigree and accent stones reminded me of pieces from my grandmother’s jewelry collection. But never before in my life had I seen a diamond that seemed to collect all the light in a room and then refract it in a thousand points of shimmering fire. It was absolutely flawless, and the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“It’s stunning,” I said, knowing even as I said them how inadequate the words were.
“Then it meets your approval?”
“Of course it does. How could any woman not love it?”
“I was afraid you might want something larger—it’s only a little over four carats, after all.”
Only, I thought, and then started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. After a moment, Erik began to laugh, too. Then he took me in his arms again, and diamonds of any carat weight were the last thing on my mind.
We must have dozed off in front of the fireplace, for I awoke some time later, feeling the weight of Erik’s arms around me, the deep rise and fall of his chest against my back as he slept.
I lay there for a long moment, comforted by his presence, the warmth of the fire, even the spicy scent of the Noble fir as it sat in splendor in a far corner of the room. The aura of contentment and peace in the room was almost palpable, and I sighed, hoping it would never end.
There would be some people would never understand. There would be those who would question and pry. But I also knew that Erik and I were meant to be together, two broken pieces who somehow made up a whole. Whatever bitterness and pain we had endured was now in the past. Now we had each other, and the future.
Then I turned so that I faced him, and he sighed and settled against me once more in sleep.
I smiled then, and kissed him very gently on his scarred cheek.
“I love you, my Phantom,” I whispered.
Even in his sleep, he smiled.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, whether living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
NO RETURN
Originally copyright © 2006 by J.C. Sillesen
Revised edition copyright © 2012 by Christine Pope
Published by Dark Valentine Press
Cover design and ebook formatting by Indie Author Services
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No Return: A Contemporary Phantom Tale Page 34