Promise (21 page)

"Then it's a deal." He grinned, too.

I looked at the ring on my finger, giddy at
its meaning. "I love my ring."

"I designed it."

"I thought so. It's perfect." I hugged him
and he held me in silence for a while.

"Shall I take you home?" he finally
asked.

"You want help cleaning up first?"

We looked around at the destruction.

"I don't think there's much you can help
with, unless you can pick up that marble top again." He
chuckled.

"Only if you make me mad again." I made a
stupid face and growled, "You won't like me when I'm angry."

He laughed, but then sobered quickly. "You
know, you do scare me."

I lifted an eyebrow.

"I think I may have finally met my
match."

"What are you talking about?" I asked with
bewilderment.

"You have no idea, but you're going to be
very powerful. I don't know if I'll be able to handle you, after
the
Ang'dora
." Then he smiled. "But you will make a kick-ass
Amadis. And you are definitely
ma lykita
."

"Are you
ever
going to tell me what
that means?"

He thought for a long moment and I was sure
he still wouldn't tell me.

"It's short for
my little Lykora
," he
finally said.

"Little…what?"

"
Lykora
. Sophia never told you the
legend of the
lykora
?"

I wracked my brain for all the fantastical
and supernatural creatures I knew about. I shook my head.

"Supposedly it's a mythical creature, it's so
rare, but I've seen one myself. It's one of the most beautiful
creatures I've ever seen. It looks like a snow-white wolf, but with
black stripes like a tiger. And it has wings—they're supposed to be
like angel wings."

I cocked an eyebrow with skepticism. "And
why
would you call me that?"

He grinned, his eyes sparkling, and held out
his hand. "Because a
lykora
is small enough to fit in my
hand. But it is fiercely protective and very loyal, so when it
feels a loved one is in danger, it grows as large as it needs to be
and protects."

I laughed. "You're making it up."

"You don't have to believe me," he said with
a shrug, "but it's still what you are."

A few minutes later we pulled into Mom's
driveway and I suddenly felt apprehensive. I wasn't sure how she'd
react. After everything came out in the open and then Tristan spent
so much time with us, she had finally accepted him as a key part of
my life. I thought she might almost love him like a son. But I
wasn't sure and I didn't know if she'd be happy with my being
engaged already, especially at nineteen. I sat on the motorcycle
and stared at the lit-up cottage.

"Relax, my love," Tristan said. "She already
knows."

"She
does
?"

He shrugged. "I had to discuss it with her
first. There's all that other stuff that can get in the way."

"Oh, yeah. We're kind of like a really
twisted Romeo and Juliet, huh?"

"I've thought about that. But there's a big
difference.
Your
family supports us."

Mom waited expectantly, already in the foyer
when we opened the door.

"So…can I see?" she asked, skipping any
preliminaries. I held my left hand out for her. She inhaled
sharply. "Nice job, Tristan. I'm impressed."

He grinned.

She looked at me. "You
will
finish
this book first. And you
will
finish college."

"I'll definitely finish the book first. And
I'll finish college, but probably not before we get married." I
glanced at Tristan and I knew he was also thinking about our deal
because he winked at me.

***

I'd never imagined it possible to be so
happy. It lasted about a month. Then the subjects of sex and trust
came up again and it was a devastating turning point. We both
seemed to have a blockage with Tristan seeing me naked. I lay on
his boxy leather couch in just my bra and panties, while he paced
the semi-dark room. He wasn't trying to regain control—the fire was
already gone. Something else was wrong. I pushed him off this time
as he started to unhook my bra.
I
felt a loss of control and
something deep inside hit the panic button. I sat up and pulled my
shirt and shorts on.

He finally came over and knelt in front of
me, looking into my eyes.

"I was getting close, but I think that was
you this time," he said quietly.

"I know," I admitted, hanging my head. "I'm
sorry."

"You don't trust me nearly as much as you
think you do," he said flatly, as if it was fact.

I looked up at him. "No, Tristan, that's not
it. I
know
you won't hurt me."

"That's not what I mean. You still have a
shell, even for me."

"What do you mean?" I thought we'd overcome
that. I'd opened myself up and let him in. He knew more about me
than anyone, even my own mother…and, apparently, more than I knew
myself….

"You let me in to a certain point, but you're
still protecting your most vulnerable areas."

I knew the confusion showed in my eyes as I
stared into his.

"You won't let me read your book," he pointed
out.

"If it gets published, I don't have a choice.
You can just go buy it." I tried to smile. He remained serious and
my smile disappeared.

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course! More than anything."

"But not enough to share something so
important to you."

I sighed.
How'd we get on the subject of
my book?
"You wouldn't even like it."

"And you're making that decision for me?"

"Tristan, it's about a witch and a werewolf
and their unlikely romance and magic and myths—the stuff you laugh
at me about."

"I don't laugh
at
you." He scowled. "I
just don't understand your fascination with them."

"And I don't understand your fascination with
numbers and angles and the lines of a building."

"But you like the finished product." He waved
his hand toward the house models. "I would like to see your
finished product."

I sighed again. He had a point. "It's not
even a finished product. It's just a draft. It needs revisions,
holes in the plot need filling…"

"I don't
care
. It's important to you,
so it's important to me. Why can't you share it?" He studied my
face, his eyes filled with sadness. "Why can't you share yourself?
Even if I'm not there yet, I thought
you
would want to be
with me by now. But you don't."

The pain and rejection in his voice felt like
daggers in my heart.

"Tristan, we both need more time. We'll get
there."

"But
why
, Alexis? Why do
you
need more time?"

"I don't know," I whispered honestly.

"I
do
know. You're still protecting
yourself, protecting those most personal, intimate parts. You won't
let me read your book. You stop me from enjoying your body, even
when
I
can go further. Why can't you give yourself fully to
me yet?"

I sighed sadly, leaned over and pressed my
forehead to my knees.

"You still don't trust me," he answered
himself.

The words burned my ears and tears stung my
eyes as I realized he was right. I was willing to give him the rest
of my life, but I couldn't give him all of
me
.

"Tristan…," I mumbled into my thighs.

He sighed heavily, sadly. "You don't need to
say anything, Alexis. I get it. You love me…just not
completely."

I sat up and saw the pain written all over
his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Tristan, please…," I whispered. "I do love
you, more than…"

"Just stop, Alexis. I know you love me. But
stop lying to us both about how much. Don't even say it until you
can
completely
trust me with
everything
. Otherwise,
it's not the same love I have for you."

He stood up and strode over to the wall of
windows, staring out at the darkness spanning to the horizon. I
leaned back over my thighs and cried into them for several
minutes.

"Do you want your ring back?" I asked,
choking on the words.

He was on his knees in front of me in a
flash.

"Is that what you
want
?" His voice
cracked with pain on the last word.

"
No!
" I cried.

He cupped the side of my face in his hand.
"Then it is yours always, just as my heart is. I just hope, one
day, I will have yours…all of it."

Chapter 1
5

After that critical night, our relationship
felt fragile and brittle, like it would shatter from the least bit
of pressure. We spent time with each other every day, but not as
much and conversation felt superficial, sometimes even forced. Sex
wasn't even an issue because we didn't even try. I missed the
emotional and physical closeness and berated myself for not letting
him completely in, but I didn't know what to do to knock that wall
down. I questioned just how much I did love him and if it would
ever be enough to completely trust him. If I was even capable of
loving that much.

I thought maybe it was just my self-image and
fantasized about the
Ang'dora
, hoping I'd become as gorgeous
as Mom. And a better match for Tristan.

"Mom, when will I change…become like you?" I
asked one night when we were alone, putting my textbook to the
side. We had more of those alone nights lately. I could feel
Tristan pulling away out of pain and I couldn't seem to pull him
back.

She shrugged and put her own book down. "It's
been different for all of us. It seems we must experience a certain
amount of real humanity. We haven't been able to pinpoint a
specific cause-effect relationship, so it's difficult to say when
or what will do it."

"When did it happen for you?"

"I was thirty-four, but I was the youngest
ever. I was also the only one to have a baby after the
Ang'dora
. Besides me, the ages have ranged from thirty-eight
to fifty-something. Most were somewhere in their forties."

"I'll get that
old
first?" I wondered.
I hadn't been prepared for that. Mom had never given me details
before and I just assumed she stopped aging in her mid-twenties.
Tristan said he just stopped aging at twenty-one, so I thought it
was the same for us.

I thought about the idea of living that many
years as a somewhat normal human. It meant there was a good chance
I could still have the settled life I sought, at least for a while.
But then I realized I would get old and Tristan would not. I knew
there would be some difference—Mom looked older than Tristan—but
I'd never expected I would be near
forty
…or
older
.

I sighed sadly. "I hoped it would be sooner
so maybe Tristan and I could get past this."

"I wish I could help, but we really don't
know, honey. This is something you'll have to get through on your
own. All I really know is we have each experienced true love first.
Real love, like what you and Tristan have. So who knows with you?
You're quite different than the rest of us, anyway."

"Will I be as beautiful as you and
Tristan?"

She smiled brightly. "You will be
splendid
. Ours is an inner beauty that radiates outward. It
is part of who we are. And you have so much love, hope and faith
within you already—you will outshine all of us."

I figured that's what all Amadis moms told
their daughters, because I surely didn't feel much love, hope and
faith. In fact, they seemed to be buried under despair and
distrust…mostly distrust of myself.

"As for Tristan," Mom continued, "he was made
to be exceedingly attractive, another tool in his toolbox—or bait
in his tackle box would be more accurate. I do have to say, though,
his outer beauty has improved since the first time I met him and, I
admit, he's become even more exquisite over the last several
months."

I thought I was the only one who noticed.
Great. He's getting even more attractive and I'm still plain
me
.

***

The night following my last final exam,
Tristan and I met some of my classmates at Mario's to celebrate
surviving the semester. Carlie from communications had been in one
of my spring classes, too. She'd invited us to join her, along with
her roommate and another friend and a couple of guys from our
class, since they were coming to the Cape. Neither Tristan nor I
really wanted to be there, but it was something to do to avoid
being alone.

Not particularly enjoying the conversation, I
slipped into observation mode. Carlie's roommate and friend were a
lot like her—pretty in an all-American, girl-next-door kind of way.
I noticed they were quite flirtatious with Tristan and, for someone
who didn't want to be there, he was exceptionally warm toward
them.

After seeing the engagement ring on my
finger, Carlie had mentioned once that maybe she'd been wrong about
Tristan. I wondered now if she'd noticed what Mom and I had and
decided he wasn't so scary after all. She'd been right in the
beginning that there was a dangerous side to him, but…she missed
the part of how exceptionally loving and generous he was, too. He
was an unbelievably rare and beautiful creature, inside and out,
and I was doing a pretty good job of completely blowing it with
him. I sighed.

His head snapped up and he looked at me with
an odd expression, then his eyes darted to something behind me. I
couldn't tell if anger or interest flickered in his eyes as they
narrowed. He pursed his lips, then went back to the conversation
with the girls. I was so used to being the center of his attention,
I even noticed how he hadn't looked back at me, but focused
immediately and directly on Carlie and her friends.