“It’s a shame,” I repeated with a solemn nod, no longer caring whether or not he knew I could speak.
What was the point?
Nothing was ever going to change. My nightmare hadn’t just been a fractured memory of my car accident, but a premonition. I could run as hard and fast as I wanted, but I would always end up right back where I started—locked behind the same walls I’d known all my life.
“Brad was sure sorry he couldn’t be here when you woke up, but he’s handling a few things for me.”
I swallowed the bile in my throat and nodded. “Okay.”
“Have you given any thought as to when you’d like to set the date?” Tristan’s words were a knife stabbing into my flesh as if he needed the reassurance that I was truly dead this time.
I was.
The hope that had been blooming in my chest since finding Killian again shriveled into apathy.
“As soon as I’m well enough,” I mumbled, my words surprisingly steady despite the hurricane of emotions sweeping through my body. “No need for a lengthy engagement.”
I preferred a quick death.
Tristan’s wide eyes told me he hadn’t expected my response before he managed to slow-blink his way back onto neutral ground. “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice. If I’d known you were talking, I would have—”
“I wasn’t.”
In saying Killian’s name, I’d given myself away. Keeping him safe would mean convincing Tristan that he meant nothing. I brought my hand up to clasp my necklace, needing my talisman like never before. “I feel like maybe—maybe God used the seizure to rewire that part of my brain.”
Tristan’s eyes flashed with something like pride, and he nodded. “God’s still in the miracle business and can use anything to His glory.”
“Amen.” I cleared my throat against another surge of bile before asking, “Do you think I’ll be home in time for Christmas?”
“Maybe—worried you might miss out on presents?” He chuckled, seemingly forgetting the very things he preached against.
Putting Christ Back in Christmas: A Four-Part Series about Leaving Materialism on the Shelf.
“I—” I shook my head, fighting the numbness that seemed to be settling in. God help me, I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
Killian. Just think of Killian.
“I just thought it might be nice to have a Christmas wedding,” I rushed out on a whisper.
This time, I had him. Tristan made no attempt to disguise his reaction and openly gaped at me for almost a full minute.
Blink. Blink.
“There are women everywhere who would kill to be in my place,” I added, sounding infinitely less threatening than Brad had when he’d said it. “I’m just afraid if we wait much longer, someone will steal him right out from under me.”
His eyes went distant as he mulled over my offer, probably trying to find time in his busy speaking schedule. And that wasn’t even getting into the required appearances and interviews to discuss my upcoming nuptials.
“Alright. Let’s do it.” Blink. Blink.
“Yeah?” I asked, plastering a fake grin on my face.
“Yeah. But that leaves a lot of work to be done.” In a rare display of emotion, Tristan lifted my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against my knuckle in almost the exact spot Killian had.
Although my palms were damp with sweat, they remained surprisingly steady.
I wasn’t afraid anymore.
With that knowledge, I decided to go for broke. “Maybe Morgan could help with some of the planning for me while I’m here.”
His smile dimmed, but he jerked his chin in a thoughtful nod. “We’ll see, little dove.”
“I can help, Pastor James,” Tiffani blurted. “I understand you have a busy schedule, but I could literally run out and buy some bridal magazines for Ariana to look over—not like I’d be trying to take over. And, like, you wouldn’t even have to pay me or anything like that.”
She finally paused to take a breath before adding, “I just want to help.”
“How can I say no to that pitch, Tiffani?” He winked at me, and I wondered how different our lives would have turned out had he not been a complete phony.
What would it have been like to be loved unconditionally?
It wasn’t the first time I’d considered the alternate version of reality either. Once, I’d caught Mama on a good day and asked something similar. After she stopped laughing, she’d looked at me and said, “Just because a chicken has wings, don’t mean it can fly.”
At the time, I’d taken her response as an indicator that she was slipping back into her delusional state, but it made sense now. We could have remained small enough to fit in the box he’d designated for us, but there was no realm where Tristan became a loving father.
The evil in him went right down to the bone.
“I’ve got to get back to the church—and you, little dove, need to get some rest so that you’re ready to walk down the aisle in just a little over a month.”
Tiffani waited until he was gone—going as far as checking to ensure he’d gotten on the elevator—before rounding on me. I braced myself for the onslaught of praise, my cheeks already growing sore from the forced smiles.
I didn’t know how much longer I could keep the act up.
“Oh my god—like, Ariana, you can talk! And Pastor James, he was sitting right here!”
She dropped onto the chair with a deep sigh. “I’ll literally never forgive myself for leaving you yesterday. When I heard the news, it was like I’d failed you. I should have seen the signs.”
“Wait—the seizure was yesterday?” I croaked.
“Yeah, you were taken to the hospital where they ran like some tests before transporting you back here last night. You’ve literally been sleeping since it happened—not that I blame you—but like it’s good to have you back.” Tiffani sucked in a rough inhale. “I just have to ask—the man who was here a few weeks ago, was that Brad?”
I gave her a brief nod, waiting for the requisite comment on his good looks or expensive clothes—the same useless drivel I’d overheard women in the church discussing for years.
No one had ever seemed to look beyond the superficial long enough to consider whether or not the man even possessed the qualities necessary for a husband.
Spoiler alert—he didn’t.
“But like, he’s got to be as old as your father,” she hissed. “Oh my god—your sisters! It’s not a coincidence that their husbands are so much older, is it?”
It wasn’t.
We’d been sold off like livestock.
Brad would bully me into submission before forcing me to bear his children like the prize-winning heifer I was. I’d fake every smile in public, knowing that behind my back, he was seducing any young girl who happened to catch his eye.
Tiffani didn’t wait for my response before dropping her face into her hands with a muffled groan. “Oh my God, it’s not! Do you even love him?”
“No,” I answered truthfully. “If you run, you could catch up and tell my father.”
She glanced toward the closed door and lowered her voice. “I won’t—like, I know I didn’t exactly grow up in the church, but this is not normal stuff. You shouldn’t have to marry him—”
“It’s out of my hands,” I calmly replied, knowing if I said anything more, I’d give myself away. Tiffani needed to think I was weak and helpless.
I reached under the blankets until I felt the comforting weight of Morgan’s teddy bear against my fingertips.
This was my only option.
* * *
Dammit.
One of Killian’s curses slipped in during yet another failed attempt at rethreading my sewing needle. With the way this day was going, it wouldn’t be my last. My sudden inability to complete even the smallest of tasks had made me miserable company.
Before the seizure, I’d been an excellent cross-stitcher.
Before Killian, I hadn’
t understood why people made such a fuss over a kiss.
But in the last five days, I’d been reduced to a brittle husk of the woman I was before. I was a woman who’d mastered wallowing in her grief, but not much else.
He hadn’t come back.
Each morning I was forced out of bed and into the shower, where either Tiffani or Tsega would hold me through a light round of shoulder-shaking, uncontrollable sobs.
And things had only gotten worse from there, including a regrettable incident involving the miniature Killian figurine in Fynn’s office and a surprisingly soft wall.
“Yours is coming along nicely, Ariana,” Georgia praised. “Sadly, my eyes just aren’t what they used to be.”
I leaned in as she held hers up for inspection, only to find her stitching infinitely better than anything I was accomplishing in my current state.
“I think you must have been looking at the wrong weave cloth because this—” I shook the hoop to really drive home my point. “Is completely hopeless. I may as well rip it all out and start over.”
Georgia raised her eyebrows in question before turning back toward the small television in the corner of the room. I’d briefly registered it was on when I arrived. Since then, I’d lost myself in the tediousness of French knots and baseball players who disappeared without a trace.
At the amplified crack of gunfire, I flinched and watched in horror as a woman dropped to the beach, bleeding from her wounds. I didn’t need to see anymore—I was well aware of how that story would end.
I jerked again when Tsega loudly cleared her throat, but she was looking at something on her phone and didn’t seem to notice.
Georgia cut her eyes back over to me and patted my knee. “You know, I don’t believe I’ve told you how wonderful it is to finally hear your voice. Isn’t it nice, Tsega?”
“So nice.” Tsega agreed with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. As she’d been subjected to the sounds of my nonsensical whimpers echoing off the shower tiles, I couldn’t say I blamed her.
An odd look passed between the two of them—one that made me think they were up to something. And I had a feeling that something involved me.
Georgia’s voice moved up in pitch. “I haven’t seen your young man around lately. Why is that, Ariana?”
My stomach tightened at the mention of Killian, but as my last cry had only been an hour ago, I was granted a brief reprieve. “Did you really steal Margaret’s boyfriend?” I asked, sounding more defensive than I’d intended.
She let out a loud peal of laughter. “Heavens, Ariana. I imagined that you, of all people, would know you can’t believe everything you hear. I haven’t looked at another man since I lost Will.”
The needlepoint fell forgotten to my lap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Georgia waved her hands as if shooing off my apology. “None of that. I’m actually glad you asked because it’s why I invited you for a visit.” She shared another strange look with Tsega, but neither one of them was smiling anymore.
“Will and I were so young, Ariana, and we fell in love quickly. My mother warned me it wouldn’t last, but I knew better—”
I released the breath I’d been holding. “But how did you know?”
It was the very thing I kept coming back to. Despite all the books I’d read and a kiss that would be forever ingrained in my memory, it felt like there was something I was missing.
How could a person willingly hand their heart over to someone else without a guarantee that it wouldn’t get broken?
Georgia considered my question. “Well, I can’t pinpoint a specific instance where I knew, but it was how he made me feel. When I was with him, I came alive. Most people considered me shy back then, but with Will in the room, it was like flipping a switch. I’d ramble about any and everything.”
“What about your fiancé?” Tsega crossed her arms over her chest. “Does he make you feel like that?”
It was apparent the two of them were setting me up to reveal something, but I didn’t question it. Instead, I forced myself to think of Brad, trying to determine if he’d ever made me feel alive. I’d been left feeling disgusted plenty of times, but never once had I become a more vibrant version of myself in his presence.
Only with Killian.
It had only ever been with Killian.
Georgia moved her wrinkled hand up to cover mine. “You seem troubled. I hope I haven’t upset you.”
I shook my head. “It’s just that I don’t know that I’ve ever met someone who makes me feel what you’re describing.”
Another lie.
I’d told so many now that it was becoming a struggle to keep them all straight.
“You know, neither had I until he came along. I’d met men who were nice enough, but they didn’t make me feel here.”
She released my hand, placing her palm over my chest. “You know that feeling when your heart is pumping violently against your ribs, reminding you that you’re alive? That’s how it was with Will. I hadn’t gone to college or anything like that. But just being around him filled me with a sense of purpose. Like maybe I’d been made to be his.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing against the sudden pang of loss. But, if I was honest with myself, Killian had never truly been mine. Maybe the signs were nothing more than the fantasies of an overactive imagination.
But for a brief moment in time, I’d been given a glimpse of what it was like to feel protected and safe. It might have been a mere fraction of what Georgia had with Will, but I was grateful for the experience. I couldn’t be selfish enough to demand anything more.
“Ariana,” Tsega said softly. “You don’t love him—”
They were going to ruin everything.
I pushed Georgia’s hand away and stood, glad I’d insisted on leaving the wheelchair back in my room. “Did Tiffani tell you this? Is that what I am to you—some form of gossip at the nurse’s station? Did you ever stop to consider that I might have feelings of my own—”
“Oh, for the love of Pete, sit down, Ariana!” Georgia snapped, pointing at the empty chair. “Not one person in this room is a gossip, but we are worried about you.”
“You haven’t been yourself since the seizure,” Tsega added. “We saw the way you were with Killian, Ariana. You love him, and he loves you. I’m just not sure he knows it yet. Life isn’t perfect. The stars seldom align, but when they do, you grab on with both hands and don’t let go.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I choked, refusing to let the sudden shoot of hope pierce my heart. “If he did, he never would have left. Brad is the man I’m meant to be with, so stop looking for things that aren’t there.”
Tsega looked to Georgia for back up. The older woman sighed. “Do you think we haven’t heard the rumors about the church’s little gated community—the whispers that the pastor’s daughters are nothing more than slaves?”
“You’re wrong.” My voice faded, and I sank down onto the chair, no longer able to stand. People could suspect that things weren’t right, but there would never be any proof.
And, even if I were inclined to take a ghost’s advice and speak out against the church, my sisters would stick to the narrative they’d been spoon-fed since birth.
I’d be labeled a liar, and then Tristan would ensure that I never left my cage again.
“Just help us understand why you’re marrying that man,” Tsega pleaded, moving beside me. “Is it because Killian left, and you feel you have no other choice? Was he going to help you?”
No one could help me.
My eyes stung with anger and shame, but I kept the tears at bay long enough to quietly confess, “I only agreed to the marriage so he wouldn’t look into Killian. I thought if I gave myself up that he’d back off and I could find a way out of it—find a way to escape. But it’s hopeless. He’s always going to be one step ahead of me.”
“Tsega, be a dear and turn this up real quick, would you?” Georgia stabbed a finger in the direction of the television.
>
My jaw went slack as Tsega retrieved the remote, wondering if either of them had been listening, or if the pull of on-screen violence was simply too strong to resist.
Just as I was on the verge of standing up to excuse myself for a previously scheduled cry, Georgia began bouncing excitedly in her seat. “This is it! Look at them, Ariana—stuck in no man’s land. All around, people are dying or starving. An entire village enslaved. This battalion has been stuck in the trenches for a year, unable to gain any ground. I imagine this is as hopeless as hopeless gets.”
I pushed my hurt feelings aside and watched as a couple argued battle strategy, failing to see how the events of World War I related in any way to what I’d been trying to say.
“Diana is a woman in the middle of a man’s war,” Georgia murmured, no longer watching the screen, but me. “By all rights, she’s the weakest among them. Steve tells her that it’s not possible to cross—end of story. Except, it’s not. Because sometimes, the smallest voices are the loudest. Sometimes, Ariana, the girl gets to be the hero. Watch.”
At first, it appeared as if Diana was doing nothing more than unpinning her hair. Then, she stepped up onto the ladder, seemingly ready to sacrifice herself, and I couldn’t look away.
“She’s taking all the fire!”
Bullets flew all around her, but she managed to deflect every single one. Chills raced across my arms when the hail of gunfire became too much, but Diana just picked up her shield and continued advancing on the German army.
“Ariana,” Georgia said softly when the scene ended. I blinked, suddenly aware that my cheeks were damp with tears.
“You might be able to speak, but you haven’t ever truly used your voice. You have two choices—keep silent and marry a man you don’t love because your father expects it. Or, you can pick up your shield to forge your own path, destroying any man who stands in your way, like a goddess among mortals.”
Tsega nodded in agreement and reached for my hand. “You don’t have to fight this battle alone.”
I’d never seen a woman save the day—either on-screen or off. Growing up, we’d been taught to be respectful and meek, but never brave.
Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two Page 21