by Ella Miles
I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting effort from a man who was just doing this because he had to. I was expecting dinner and a proposal. But I’m afraid he’s put more effort into it than that.
The carriage takes us down the main strip and then turns off, moving us throughout the city. I have no idea where we are going. I’m not sure I care. I’m lost in this perfect moment.
Killian places his arm around my shoulders, and I lean my head against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“For what?” I breathe back.
“For lying to you. For breaking you and Eli up. For controlling any bit of your life. For ruining your date. For forcing you into a life you don’t want. For everything.”
“None of this is your fault.” I suck in a deep breath. “You don’t have to do this though. You already have the job. It’s not going to be taken away just because you don’t do this.”
I pause, waiting for him to confirm or deny my statement. He does neither. He just looks at me with the same intensity he always does.
So, I continue, “We don’t even know each other. I don’t know how many siblings you have. I don’t your parents’ names. I don’t know your favorite color or food or band. I don’t know where you grew up. I don’t know why you are such a workaholic. I don’t know why you never want to get married or have kids. I don’t know if we are compatible together. I don’t know anything about you, other than you are good in bed and intelligent enough to run the company.”
His expression grows grave, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I’m a huge Justin Bieber fan—like, huge. I’ve seen him in concert six times. My favorite movie is The Notebook. I’ve watched it at least a hundred times, and I still cry every single time. I have enough clothes and makeup to fill three regular-size rooms. I hate large houses. I’d prefer to live in hotel rooms the rest of my life.
“It is always going to take me longer than it should to make my mind up about what I want to order and even longer to make up my mind about anything else. And I’m only occasionally going to be okay with you making those decisions for me. Although you’ll never really know when I want you to decide for me or when I want to make my own decisions.
“I’m never going to be okay with just being a housewife. I’m always going to want to find a way to fight my way into a leadership position at the company. I’m always going to want the fairy tale. I’ll always want to be desperately in love and have kids.”
His hand reaches up to my lips, squeezing them together, silencing me. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, never taking his eyes off mine. He slowly releases my lips.
“It does. Trust me, you don’t want to be stuck listening to Justin Bieber for the rest of your life when you prefer Justin Timberlake.”
He chuckles. “I don’t really like either.”
“What? You don’t like JT?”
“No,” he says, like I’m crazy for liking him.
I shake my head. “See? You can’t do this. Your life would be filled with Justins and little kids running around and indecisiveness.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s not what you want.” But I’m not sure who I’m convincing with that statement.
As I stare into his eyes, I want to know everything about him. I want to listen to whatever shitty music he enjoys. I want to meet his parents and siblings. I want to argue with him about how long it takes me to order. I just don’t want to marry him.
The carriage stops in front of Crystal Waterfalls, my favorite casino. My eyes are wide as I stare at him. He climbs out before holding his hand out to me. I take it, and he helps me out.
He doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk into the building that, to my surprise, is empty. I don’t see a soul walking around. I blink rapidly, thinking that what I am seeing is a dream. It’s not. The casino is a ghost town.
I see a trail of rose petals on the floor. It starts next to the river that goes through the center of the hotel and casino. I let go of Killian’s hand as I make my way over to the edge of the river. I let my hand dip into the cold water, like I have done hundreds of times before. There are petals floating on top of the water.
I slowly follow the trail of rose petals. I hear Killian walking behind me, but he doesn’t try to walk next to me. He lets me discover everything by myself.
The rose petals follow the river. I follow them through the main casino floor, going past all the flashing lights of the slot machines, past the empty card tables, past the shops and restaurants. I follow them until they get to the door. It’s the door to my favorite place in the world.
I hesitate at the door, trying to calm my beating heart. This is it. I push the door open, and at the same time, I suck in a breath.
It’s beautiful, even more beautiful than usual. Lights are strung over every tree. And the smell from all of the roses and fresh flowers in the garden overwhelm me, as they always do whenever I step into the hotel’s garden. The waterfall rushes water over its crest just as calmly as it always does.
But what has taken my breath away are the rose petals and candles covering the floor. It looks like tiny shining stars on the floor of the garden.
I slowly turn back to the door. Killian is standing in the doorway, looking at me with a smile on his face. His head cocks slowly to the side as I smile back at him.
It’s a fairy tale in here. It’s just not real.
I feel my body tremble as he walks silently to me until he is standing just inches from my body. I hear music start up in the distance. I glance away from Killian and see a violinist playing. I turn back to Killian.
“I would have had her play Justin Bieber, if I had known.”
His words make me smile a little brighter, but my body is still trembling.
I watch his tongue run over his lip. I want his tongue on my lip.
“My favorite movie is The Hangover. It makes me laugh every fucking time. I have a surprisingly little amount of clothing. I love playing poker and blackjack, even when I’m getting beaten by a girl. My parents both live in Las Vegas. I’ve lived here my whole life. I have one younger sister close to your age, one older sister, a brother-in-law—whom you already met—and a three-year-old nephew whom I would do anything for. I’m a workaholic. I’m stubborn. I’m controlling. I hate waiting for decisions. I’ve never wanted to get married. I’ve never wanted kids. I don’t have a favorite artist, but I’ve been listening to the song ‘Let Her Go’ by Passenger on repeat lately.”
I swallow hard. He’s not going to propose. My head drops slightly in disappointment. This is good though. He needs to happy. At least one of us should be. I can give him that.
My eyes widen though when I watch him drop to one knee as he holds my hand.
“Princess, I know that we might not know everything there is to know about each other. I know that we, on paper, are all wrong for each other. I know you think the only reason I’m down on one knee right now is because of the loyalty I have for your father.
“You’re wrong. I’m down on one knee right now because you are the strongest woman I have ever met. You are determined, honest, beautiful, and, yes, a little naive. You are every bit as strong as your father was. I might not make the perfect husband. In fact, I know I won’t. But I want to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you.”
He pulls a box out of his pocket. He pops it open, revealing a gorgeous princess cut diamond. “Princess, will you marry me?”
I bite my lip as I look into his intense eyes. I have no idea what to say.
Yes.
No.
I don’t know.
They all go through my head. And then they all zoom out again. None of them is the right answer. None of them will make either of us happy. None of them will bring an end to this story.
I finally open my mouth to say the only word that feels right leaving my lips, “Maybe.”
A slow smile tugs at his lips as he shakes his head at me. “That’s not going to work. I can’t take t
hat as a yes. I need to hear you say it.”
I take a slow deep breath as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I open my mouth to tell him my answer when our phones simultaneously go off. I pull my phone out from my clutch.
Mother, the screen reads.
I see Killian reaching into his pocket. He runs his hand through his hair.
We both press Accept at the same time. We each lift the phone to our ears at the same time. We both say, “Hello?” at the same time.
We both feel the pain at the same time.
“I’ll call a car to take us,” Killian says immediately, dropping his question.
Now that there are more pressing issues to deal with, it doesn’t matter if I say yes or no. His perfect proposal is ruined. Maybe that’s a good thing because I’m not sure I had the strength to tell him no, even when it’s what is best for both of us.
I watch as Killian talks on the phone as he paces back and forth in the beautiful garden. I…I don’t move. I don’t know how to feel. It doesn’t feel as bad as the last time I got a call like this. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much, but it still hurts. Maybe because Granddad is just in the hospital and not actually dead. Maybe it’s because my father was my everything. Maybe it’s because, this time, I might actually have a chance to say good-bye, if that is what this comes to.
I watch as Killian quickly makes his way around the room, blowing out all the candles. I don’t move though. I can’t. I feel him grab ahold of my hand, but I still don’t move. I’m not even sure if I’m breathing or if my heart is still beating.
“Kinsley, we need to go out front. The car should be here any minute.”
I still don’t move. Killian puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me forward. I move but only because his arm is around me. It takes a long time to make our way through the casino and back out onto the strip. Neither of us speaks as we move. We just move as one unit.
When Killian pushes the doors open to the vibrant lights of the busy strip, I move. I don’t know if it’s the lights or what that jolts me back to reality. Whatever it is, I’m thankful.
I see the blacked-out Cadillac Escalade parked in front of the casino. I grab Killian’s hand. “Come on,” I say as I run to the car. Killian runs with me.
I pull the door open and dive into the cab as quickly as possible. Killian has already run around to the other side and is jumping in. I close the door and hear a small tear of my dress from getting it caught in the door. I pick up the torn fabric and run it back and forth between my fingers. The fairy tale is over. I glance to my left where Killian sits. This is over.
It hurts to know it’s true, but it is. This will wake both of us up. It will make both of us want to live a full life—a life we choose full of happiness and mistakes, a life we live for us.
Killian closes his eyes when he sees it in my eyes. This is over. He knows it as well as I do.
I tell the driver which hospital Granddad’s at, and then we are driving away from the casino, away from my life, away from the fairy tale, and back to reality.
“Mom,” I say to the blonde woman slumped over in a waiting room chair.
Her hair is a mess. It’s ratted and dirty. I don’t know when she showered last. She’s wearing an old T-shirt of Dad’s and pink pajama pants. She at least had enough sense to put on tennis shoes.
“Mom,” I say again as I grab her shoulders while I squat in my dress in front of her.
She moans but doesn’t look up at me. I grab her cheeks, lifting her head. The smell of alcohol is intense on her breath. I have to look away from her to take a deep breath.
Shit, why did she have to do this today?
I have no idea how to deal with her while she’s drunk. Dad was always the one who dealt with her when she was drunk. I never had to. Now that she’s a raging alcoholic every other night, I don’t know what to do. I feel guilty for not taking better care of her, for not staying at home and being there for her. But I thought it was for the best. I thought her therapist and AA sponsor would handle her. I thought she would be better by now.
We never got along, even before it happened, even before I destroyed the family reputation. We never got along when she was sober. We have never gotten along.
“Here,” Killian says.
I look over my shoulder and take the coffee out of his hand.
“Have her drink it. It will help.”
“Mom.” I place the cup in her hand. I wait until she has a good grip on the cup before I remove my hand. “Drink this.”
She does. I sit in the chair next to her and take a deep breath for the first time since she called me. How she managed that call, I don’t know. I don’t know how she did it in the state she is in.
I look up and mouth, Thanks.
Killian just nods his head as a nurse runs up to us. I stand, afraid she is here to tell us bad news.
“Are you relatives of Lee Felton?”
Killian and I both nod.
The woman sighs. “Good. I need someone to fill out the insurance forms.”
My eyes grow wide. I can’t deal with this shit, not right now. I need to take care of my mother. I need to see my grandfather. I don’t need to be worried about figuring out what insurance he has.
“I’ll do it,” Killian says, to my surprise. He leans over and softly kisses me on the cheek before he begins following the nurse.
“Wait. How is he doing?”
“He’s still in surgery. But I’ll have someone come get you as soon as the surgery is over.”
I nod and then sit back in the chair next to my mom. I don’t know if Killian will be able to fill out the forms. But I have faith he will find a way to keep the nurse away for a little while at least.
I glance over at my mom, who is now sitting up a little higher in her chair. I watch as she runs her hand through her long locks and then sips on her coffee. It seems to be helping.
I shake my head, disgusted that she is drunk. I never imagined she would fall to this level. She seems so lost without my dad. But I know that’s not true. She never really loved my dad. She only married him for the money, for the house, to pass on money to me. I realize now, looking back on their relationship, they were never really happy together. They never really loved each other. They never chose each other.
“I’m not drunk,” my mother says, glaring at me.
“I never said you were.”
She smiles slyly. “You’re disgusted. That’s what you thought. I’m not drunk. I’ve only had two drinks.”
“Then, why do you look like complete shit? I know it’s not because you gave two shits about my father. And you sure as hell don’t care about what happens to Granddad.”
“Wow. Someone has finally grown a pair.” She takes a sip of her coffee before staring off into space.
I think the conversation is over, that this is all I’m going to get from her. She’s drunk. There is no other word to describe her state.
“I loved your father very much, more than even he knew.”
“You don’t need to lie to me. Granddad told me. He told me the truth—that the only reason you got married was because it benefited the company and your pocketbook.”
Her eyes meet mine, but I don’t expect to see the pain in them.
“You have no idea what you are talking about. I loved your father very much. Yes, our marriage was arranged, but it was arranged because I loved him, and it was the only way to get your father to notice me instead of being stuck in his career. The opportunity arose, and I took it.”
She takes a deep breath. “Don’t you dare accuse me of not loving your father. I gave up everything for that man. I never wanted children. Did he tell you that? I never, ever wanted fucking children. But I had one for him. He wanted children, someone to pass on his precious company to. So, I had one.
“I wanted to move out of this godforsaken place. I wanted to move somewhere with a beach, but I never did. I stayed with your father, even when he stayed late night after night
at hotel after hotel blaming it on work. I knew what he was doing. I loved him, even when he didn’t love me back.”
Tears are streaming down her face. “I loved him, even when he was loving other women.” A sob escapes, and she takes a minute to just let it out of her whole body.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of not loving that man. I loved him desperately and without asking for love in return. It tears me apart to think that one of the only remaining links I have left to that love might be dying on the operating table.” She glares at me. “And the other is about to make the biggest mistake of her life.”
I take a deep breath, trying to take it all in, but it’s a lot to take in. She accused my father of not loving her, of cheating on her. I don’t want to think about it. I’ve always loved my father. I don’t want to know if what she said is right. I can’t know.
“What do you mean, I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life? I thought I already did that five years ago.”
She laughs. “What you did wasn’t a mistake. I know I told you time after time that it was. I know I blamed you for my failed marriage. I blamed you because it was easier to blame you than myself. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should never have agreed to marry your father. It was the worst mistake of my life. I ruined my life forever when I said, ‘I do.’ I can’t get back the last twenty-five years. They are gone. I don’t even know if I can figure out how to live again for another twenty-five years.”
She stands from her chair, surprisingly steady on her feet. “Don’t make my mistake. Don’t marry that boy. I’d pull the trigger before I made that decision again.”
My mother scares me with her words. I’ve never heard her talk like this.
I watch her walk toward the restroom, and then I stand and follow her. I’m afraid to leave her alone after she basically told me that I should kill myself rather than marry Killian.