by H. M. Ward
Trystan drops my wrist and leans toward me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me toward his chest. I cry against him until I have no more tears. Trystan touches my hair lightly and holds onto me. When I pull away, I offer an awkward expression, and try to resume a normal rate of breathing.
“You’re not the only one who had things wrong, okay? So don’t blame yourself for what happened to us. It was my fault. I was the one who torched everything. I made sure it looked bad, like I was with someone else the day of your mom’s funeral so that you wouldn’t come back. I didn’t know how to deal with all this, Mari. I knew I’d fall at some point, and I didn’t want to pull you down with me. The last thing I wanted to do was make your life harder. I’m so sorry.”
I press my lips together trying to find the right words, but there are none. Now our lives have moved on, and there is no going back. I’m lost in his gaze, watching those crystal blue eyes and wondering how much he can see. I want to lift my hand to his face and hold onto him. I want to be his rock in the storm, the way I had been so many years ago, but that time has passed. Our lives went down different roads.
“What’s that look?”
I feel funny that he noticed. “I thought you couldn’t see me?”
“I can see the shape of your face and that your cheeks aren’t puffed up, and your eyebrows are sitting low, which means you’re frowning. I’ve been faking it for a while, remember? Plus, we have this.” He gently touches the back of my hand with the pad of his finger, and I feel a jolt of emotion from him. I know that touch goes two ways, I can feel his, and he can feel mine. “I know regret is crawling up your throat right now, but you shouldn’t let it. Maybe we lost track of each other for a little while, but I’m here now. And so are you, with your dad and a doctorate. You achieved everything you set out to do when we first met.”
The knot in my throat grows larger as he speaks. At one time Dad ignored me, completely. He fought with my mother in her final days, because she wanted to spend time with me instead of him—and I pushed her away.
After that shitstorm had passed, things did get better. I put my life back on the path I’d been on before I met Trystan, and I’ve been content. I like my job, I want to help people, and I’m good at it. I’m glad Dad and I finally found a way to get along, too. That was a long time in the making. But I still wish I hadn’t lost all that time with Trystan.
He knows I can’t speak, and I’m sure he senses my thoughts. At one time I would have been petrified and pulled my hand away, but now it’s comforting that he knows me so well—that he can feel what I’m thinking without speaking.
Trystan’s head tips to the side until I look at him. “You haven’t lost me. You’ll never lose me. There’s a reason you were my best friend, and that’s exactly what I need right now. I need you to be there with me through all this and help cover it up until I know what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
I’m nodding, wishing he didn’t want me as just a friend, but I clearly feel that vibe coming from him. He needs me as a friend, and I’m good at it. I want to be there for him. I squeeze his hand, and pull away. “Done. One BFF ready to take on the world with you.”
“And you have one BFF ready to go to an engagement party this weekend and support you in every aspect of your life. I’ll even be nice to your father.” He grins devilishly and slumps back into the seat. His foot is on his knee again, and he taps out a beat.
I wipe my face off and pull into traffic. “New song?”
He’s nodding his head slowly, moving it to music that I can’t hear. “Yeah, it’s been buzzing in my mind and I can finally make out the melody.”
Chapter 32
Mari
Trystan resumes acting like his old self. It’s amazing how he covers up the blurry vision. If I didn't know better, I'd worry he were a sociopath he's such a convincing actor. He pretends to have fun, too, but I know that’s a cover. That trademark Trystan Scott smile and laugh is a mask, albeit a charming one, meant as a slight of hand so people won't look too closely. It’s an amazing thing to watch him fool everyone—everyone except me.
It’s been that way since high school. As soon as the gaggle of drooling girls walked away, he’d slump back into his seat, kick up his feet, and talk freely. There was no overabundant charm, no sparkling charisma. It was just him saying what he thought or how he felt. It’s weird to be given such trust by a person--especially someone like Trystan who is always ‘on’ all the time. It must feel strange to finally just be himself, but he doesn’t do it when Derrick or Katie are around. That mask is still in place, still sealing in his thoughts and distracting when they get too close to the truth or have a near miss with a sore spot he’d rather not talk about.
We’re at my Dad’s house, because Bob wanted to look around for security reasons before the engagement party. The early afternoon sunlight cuts through the blinds, forming slats of light on the floor. As Bob wanders the house, I grab everyone drinks from the kitchen and steal a few bags of chips. I’m a freaking hostess! I’ve got this down.
I walk from the enormous chef’s kitchen my mother loved so much, to the vast living room with leather couches. The walls stretch high into rafters that have exposed beams. My Dad left the kitchen but redid this room. It screams manly man now, with leathers and dark rich colors.
I swat at Trystan’s feet after I set down the drinks. “No feet on the table unless you want to be on Dad’s bad side.”
Trystan drops his legs and sits up. “I’m already on his bad side.” He grins and looks at Derrick while grabbing a glass. “I’m not sure the man has another side. Have you pissed him off yet? Or made him happy? I’d like to compare notes and figure out how to make steam come out of his huge ears faster.”
Derrick shakes his head and lifts a can of beer from the tray. “I’m not on his bad side. I never did anything to piss him off.”
“Except put a ring on my finger.” Derrick glances over at me, surprised. “Are you serious? What Dad wants to give away his daughter? Please. You’re on his shit list for at least five years for that one.”
Derrick squeaks and jumps off the couch. “What? How could that piss him off! You’re almost thirty!”
I wave a finger in his face. “Don’t even go there.”
“Using the woman’s age never goes well, man. I’d stop while you’re ahead.” Trystan puts the can of beer to his lips and swallows. When he sets it down on the table, the golden liquid is in the same place it was before. He didn’t actually drink any. “Where’s Katie? She’s going to be your maid of honor, right?”
I nod, surprised he’s interested. “Yeah, she’s coming. She said she found something that would be perfect for the party. She’ll be here in a little bit.”
Derrick sits down on the couch and downs the rest of his beer, before grabbing some chips. “So, we’re going to have the party in this room, right?”
I nod, half wanting to wait for Katie, but I know the guys have a limited attention span. “Yeah, I think we’ll have the caterers set up tables over there and do a buffet style night with canapés and champagne. You know, nothing too over the top.”
“Canapés?” Derrick blinks at me like I have two heads.
“Teeny-tiny expensive hors d'oeuvres,” Trystan offers with a smirk. “Chick food.”
I put my hands on my hips and scold him. “Cute little pastries and sandwiches. They’re small and adorable, and…”
Derrick laughs, “Oh God, how much is this going to cost me?”
I make a face because he knows he’s not paying for it—Dad offered to buy everything. “Don’t be like that, Derrick.”
He rolls his eyes and then smirks at Trystan. “I’m serious, why not set aside the money for us, and just buy snackage from Hickory Farms?”
I glance at Trystan, who jumps up and beams at me. “I think I hear Katie’s car. I’ll help her with that cow of a present she bought you.” He darts out of the room faster than I can blink and nearly walks i
nto the door. Trystan holds up two fingers making a peace sign, and Derrick laughs.
It’s like my fiancé figured out how to flip on dick mode at the worst times. What the hell is he doing? “Derrick, this is one of the wedding events. It’s not supposed to be slapped together at the last second with food we have left over from last Christmas.”
He lets out an annoyed sigh. “That’s not what I mean, Mari. Think about it, instead of spending sixty grand on a wedding where everyone is uncomfortable and can’t wait for it to end, why don’t we do a little wedding and cut down on all the pomp and circumstance. It’ll save us a fortune, and we can put that money toward a house.”
I stare at him. “So, you don’t want to have a big wedding? Or you want to elope?” I’m not serious about running off and getting hitched by a J.P., but he perks up.
The next thing I know, Derrick is holding my hands and smiling at me with full wattage. “Babe, that’s exactly what I’d do. Then we won't have all these people around, and it can just be us. We can start house shopping and bypass all this shit.”
He’s so happy, so incredibly excited that I can’t speak. He wraps his arms around me, holds on tight, and kisses me on the cheek. “This is why I love you. You get me. You’re not one of those rich brats wanting to feel like a princess and have everyone falling all over her. That’s not you. A justice of the peace—that’s totally you. You’re practical, and I love it. So, if this is going to be the big party, then canapés and champagne sound great. We can even go to the JP right after the party.” He’s rushing on, getting more and more excited as he speaks.
I finally have to hold onto his shoulders and catch his eye. “We can’t go to the justice of the peace this weekend. And I can’t do that to Dad. He wants to walk me down the aisle. I’ll do a small wedding if it makes you happy, but—”
He waves me off. “If it makes me happy? You don’t have to act with me, Mari. I know you better than anyone. All right, no JP for now, but let’s set a date and talk to your dad. My mom will want to come too, and my brother. Let’s make it family only and small. It’ll be intimate and perfect.” He leans in and kisses me. His mouth is on mine, and then his tongue sweeps over my lips. His arms slide down my back until he’s cupping my butt, pulling me against him.
I don’t pull away, because I love him, I do, but this blindsided me. I wanted a wedding—a real one—and now I’m not having one. I kiss him back and forget about things. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel him against me. I close my eyes and get lost in the kiss. As it gets hotter, images flash behind my eyes of Derrick and our first kiss. I can see his red shirt and the stripes, and the flannel. I feel his hands on my face, cupping my cheeks and then the memory merges with another, and things shift.
I’m seventeen and kissing Trystan. I feel his soft flannel in my hands and his lips on my mouth, and when he touches me—
I pull back, gasping right when Katie and Trystan walk in the room, so it looks like I’m being shy. Derrick laughs and pinches my butt before walking over to Katie. “Hey, gorgeous. What’s in the box?”
Katie is still wearing solid black, which is weird. It’s like she’s an Emo unicorn or something equally absurd. She has a small box in her hands, and Trystan is holding a giant crate, lugging it into the room behind Katie. His brow is covered in sweat. He pushes the package onto the carpet and then sits on it, and wipes his head with the sleeve of his shirt.
A red flannel shirt.
It’s just cold feet. Every bride has pre-wedding jitters. That’s all this is. It has nothing to do with Trystan or anything else. I’m just nervous, and I should be—this is a major decision. Forever is a long time.
Katie pulls off her Matrix coat and throws it on the couch, before handing me the little box. She’s smiling and pressing her palms together. She lifts her hands to her face and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Open it!”
I look at the little box in my hands and frown. “It’s not a dildo, is it?” That would be a Katie thing to do.
She laughs. “No! Of course not. Trystan’s sitting on the fake man dick. I had to get one that was the right size.” She laughs when Trystan jumps off the box and then winks at Derrick. “Good luck satisfying her. I hope you’re a strapping young man.” She holds up her hands about an inch apart and makes a face. “Because this will never do.”
Derrick takes her hands and separates them, so they’re about a foot apart. “More like this.”
“You think you’re this long?” She holds up her hands and shows all of us.
“Nope, that’s girth, baby.” He sniggers as Katie drops her hand, disgusted.
I slap the back of his head. “Cut it out.”
“Sorry, I forget sometimes. No dick talk in front of other chicks. They might get jealous, huh?” Derrick leans in close and puts his arm on my waist. He pulls me against his side and slips his tongue into my ear.
I shriek and pull away, swatting at him. He laughs like it’s funny, but it’s not. I’ve known him for about nine months now, and this is the first time I’m seeing this side of him, well, when his brother isn’t around. “Derrick!”
Katie glances at Trystan, but neither of them says anything. I swallow my pride and act like it didn’t happen. He’s just flirting, poorly. I focus on the box and open it, ripping the paper back and then opening the lid.
Inside there are several smooth stones. Each one is carved with a single Greek word.
I lift the first one.
ψυχή
Then the next.
μου
My jaw drops and I look up at her, ready to cry. “Oh, Katie.”
Katie looks bashful and proud. “You have that phrase on your desk. It’s still in your old room. I thought it was one of those mantras, and I know how important it is to you, so I had the words put on something that will last forever as a good luck charm for your marriage.”
This is what I had engraved on Trystan’s ring:
η ψυχή μου είναι η ψυχή σου
My soul is your soul.
It means that no matter what life threw at us, we’d be there for each other. He was wearing the ring the day he came into the ER, so I know he knows what these rocks mean—what they say.
I hold the stone in my hand and run my thumb over the word, soul. I never explained this saying to Derrick, and he doesn’t react well now.
He takes the box and laughs. “You seriously got us a box of rocks?”
Katie frowns. “It’s symbolic.” She’s not one to take crap from people, but she does this time.
Derrick teases her. “I think I would have preferred a dildo. Unless it’s a diamond, a rock isn’t much good when it comes to marriage.”
Katie’s jaw locks and I know she’s holding back a slew of words.
Trystan doesn’t move. He’s behind everyone, back by the large box that was very heavy. I wonder what’s in it.
Derrick tosses the box on the table and a few of the stones bounce out and clatter on the floor. “I know a gag gift when I see one. The real present is in the box. Let’s open it! Come on, Mari.” He rushes past Trystan and pulls off the white ribbon that was sitting on top.
I glance at Katie, feeling embarrassed and upset. Derrick is usually a sweet guy. This isn’t like him. I walk over as he’s tearing into the gift, and whisper in his ear, “No matter what’s in here, you are going to love it. I haven’t seen Katie smile in weeks until just now, and your comments killed it.”
“Mari, you’re overdramatic. She’s smiled, and it was a gag gift.” He stops talking when he has the top of the box unsealed. The container is about as high as his waist, and square. He flips back the lid and only sees white packaging peanuts. He laughs, sifting through them. He suddenly pulls his hand out, swearing. There’s a gash on his palm, a thin line of blood.
“I sliced my hand. What the hell is in there? A chainsaw?” Derrick cradles his palm and squeezes it to stop the bleeding.
Katie looks pale, and the corners
of her mouth are falling further. “I should go.” She grabs her coat and heads toward the door.
Derrick stops her before I can. “No, don’t leave. This was my fault. Stick around.”
Katie glances over at me, uneasy. Her chest rises and falls a little too quickly, and I wonder what she’s done, what’s in that box. Katie nods and puts her jacket down.
Trystan clears his throat. “Why don’t you cut it open? The box is really heavy anyway. We can pick up the Styrofoam after. And Katie always gets kickass presents. I can’t wait to see what it is.”
“She does. I love these.” I hold the stone up and smile at her.
Katie smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Derrick pulls a knife out of his pocket and opens the blade. He carefully cuts the box and dances around it like a kid on Christmas morning. When the front two seams are cut, he holds the panel of the box in place. “All right, everyone ready for the big reveal?”
I clap and whistle. Trystan does the same, as Katie sits there quietly with an expression on her face that makes me nervous.
“Here we go!” Derrick drops the front of the box and the packaging peanuts flow out. Behind the cascade of plastic snow, there’s a shiny black thing with flecks of red—and the same phrase: η ψυχή μου είναι η ψυχή σου
Derrick’s face pinches as he kneels down to look at it. “What the fuck, Katie? Was it a buy one get one free sale?”
Trystan is looking over Derrick’s shoulder. “It’s a bloodstone, asshole. It’s not cheap.”