Slowly, she shook her head. I could see how badly she wanted to agree, but her judgment was clouded. Her fear dominated, fil ing her with doubt.
“Do you real y think anything is ever going to change, Melanie? The only thing these last two months have accomplished is making him tighten his hold on you.
Another two months aren’t going to make a difference, either.”
She was silent, her eyes closed.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” Tears began to stream down her face, breaking free. Her hands twisted in the fibers of the rug, her knuckles white as she gripped at it. She whispered, “I’m scared.” I ground my teeth together and clenched my jaw as the overwhelming need to kil flared again. I tried to focus on her and not the hurt I so desperately wanted to inflict on Nicholas.
“I know, baby. He wants you to be. Don’t you see that? He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how to control you. You are so strong, sweetheart, but you have to use it the right way-”
She surprised me by cutting me off. “Okay.” She opened her eyes, nodding but stil crying.
I closed the short distance, grasped her face in my hands and kissed her, closed mouthed and hard. My relief was intense, overpowering. I pul ed away, glancing down at the space between us, drawing her attention to the little velvet box. “Open it.”
She flashed me a soggy, ful -toothed grin, and she dried her eyes with her sleeve. She picked up the box and ran her fingers over the velvet top. “Thank you, Daniel. You didn’t have to.”
Gingerly, she lifted the lid, smiling as she inspected the obviously antique ring, a relic from long ago.
She freed it from its confines. “Oh, it’s so beautiful,” she whispered as she brought it closer, holding it up to examine the detail. She ran a finger over the thick band of white gold encrusted with diamonds that shimmered in the firelight. As she rol ed it over, a cry escaped her mouth.
“Oh, my God, Daniel, is this?”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control the tremors that hit me, rol ing through every muscle of my body with the onslaught of emotion.
It was the same inscription as my necklace, the intertwined D & M, except for the date running along the base of it
April 28, 2001.
“Oh, my God, Daniel, is this?”
I searched his face, his eyes so hopeful, ful of his promise of forever. His voice cracked when he spoke, “Wil you wear it?”
I was crying, probably too hard, but I couldn’t stop.
I found myself only able to whisper his name, praying he could feel what this meant to me even if I couldn’t voice it.
He wanted me to wear my wedding ring.
“I’d had it engraved before...before the accident,” he said, rushing over the words before taking a deep breath. “I could never part with it because in my heart, you were my wife. I want you to know I intend to make that a reality and soon. But for now, wil you wear what was meant for you so long ago?”
My face felt flushed, and my heart beat impossibly fast, pounding as it thrummed against my chest. Daniel’s love overpowered me as he asked me to acknowledge that day. Our day. A day we had physical y missed, but a day our spirits had been present for, a day our souls had always honored. It was a day I confirmed as I nodded, raising a very shaky hand to Daniel, my palm extended in offering.
He didn’t hesitate. Reaching to take the ring and kissing my palm, he turned my hand in his and slid the ring to its rightful place. My entire being hummed.
I gaped at my hand resting in his, the ring a priceless reminder of this love that refused to die.
“I love you, Daniel. Forever.” I stared at him through the firelight, love alight in his eyes. I could feel the energy grow thick, nearly visible at the edges, a faint shimmer in the air as it enveloped us.
“You are everything, Melanie.” He never broke his gaze as he brought me to him, lying us down, side-by-side, face-to-face. His lips were unhurried and worshipful. He took time to revere al of me, leaving nothing in disregard, his love lasting deep into the night.
The rest of our vacation went by quickly, most of it spent in the cabin, content to be alone and without interruption. We’d only ventured out a few times, braving the snow and freezing temperatures. We’d walked down to the boardwalk, always hand in hand, browsing through the quaint stores.
We ate dinner out one night when Daniel insisted I deserved a break from cooking. We dined in a beautiful restaurant nestled on a hil , looking out over the lake. The view was breathtaking, almost as much so as the view from our balcony at the cabin.
We’d rang in the New Year by sitting, snuggled up on the couch with a bottle of wine, the fire raging before us, sharing precious memories of our past and making promises for our forever.
I had never experienced anything so satisfying. My heart was fil ed to capacity. My joy overwhelmed as it reflected back in Daniel’s face every time he looked my way.
As I strapped into my seat on the plane preparing to return to Il inois, I knew
this
was what I was looking forward to. As wonderful as the trip had been, I was going home. Daniel borrowed my phone to cal Patrick and Julia since he’d forgotten his charger, and his phone was dead.
He let them know we were on our way home.
Our home.
I made one last cal to Mom before turning off the phone for the flight. She confirmed that she’d heard nothing from Nicholas the entire time and al was wel .
We were going to handle this as simply as we could. It was Monday, and Nicholas would be at the office, so we would get what little I needed from the house. I would leave my car there. I wanted nothing that belonged to
him
. I would take only what I had to have and forget the rest.
I would leave a note asking Nicholas to cal so I
I would leave a note asking Nicholas to cal so I could arrange to meet him at a restaurant or some other public place, in a place where he could cause no scene and do me no harm. Just to be safe, Daniel would be nearby in case I needed him.
I was going to tel Nicholas the truth. As much as I despised him, he deserved that. After al , I had been a wil ing partner in al of this.
Daniel’s large, warm hand wrapped around mine as the seat belt lights flickered on and the plane began to move, readying to make its departure into the faint, early morning light. As the plane took flight, we raced east to meet the sunrise. Faster than I could imagine, the captain came on and announced our decent into Chicago. Daniel smiled warmly at me and squeezed my fingers, murmuring in my ear, “Ready?”
I exhaled nervously in anticipation.
Yes.
Final y—I was ready.
We departed the plane, both of us quiet,
contemplative.
“It’s going to be okay.” Daniel pul ed me from my meditation with his soft words and a gentle hand on my cheek. “Tonight is going to be hard, but you can do this, sweetheart. You pick the place and time. Don’t give him the option. You need to be the one in control of this.” I nodded, Daniel’s suggestion made sense.
“Um...there’s a little diner Katie and I go to. It’s always busy, and I think if you were in the back he’d never see you.”
“Okay.” He tried to hide it, but I could tel that he was just as nervous about this meeting as I was.
“We’l just leave a note when we get your stuff.” The tram doors slid open. “I’l see you at
his
house.” A smal smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, obviously thril ed to voice that I no longer lived at that house.
“I’m going to pop by the office to sign some papers for Dad. I’l be about fifteen minutes behind you.”
“Okay...love you.” I kissed him once more before stepping onto the waiting tram. I raised my hand to return the smal wave he gave me, grinning as I watched him turn to catch a shuttle to his own car.
I winced at the frigid wind stinging my face when I stepped outside. Chicago was every bit as cold as Tahoe had been. The sky was dark with heavy, gray clouds sagging in their promise of snow. I reached my car, struggling to get my heavy suitcase into the trunk. I paid my parking fee and set out on my last trip to Nicholas’s house, unable to pacify the opposing emotions fighting to claim dominance. How could I be so eager to get away from there and so terrified to do it al at the same time?
It was just after three when I pul ed up to the house. I opened the garage door and parked the car in its spot. I was official y car-less. Shrugging, I pul ed the keys from the ignition. Those little details mattered none. I tugged the heavy suitcase from the trunk, figuring its contents would be the only clothes I’d take. I grabbed an empty cardboard box large enough to fit the few things I needed from the office.
I stepped into the house, silent and dim with the advancing storm. I went directly to the office. I downloaded a few files from the computer while I rifled through paperwork. I made sure to take the large manila envelope that contained my birth certificate and medical records.
There were a few pictures of Katie and me in frames on the desk, and I tossed those into the box as wel before looking around to make sure I had everything I needed. It was amazing that everything important to me in the last nine years fit into one smal box. The only other things I needed were the couple of pieces of jewelry that had belonged to my grandmother in a jewelry box in the closet upstairs and the treasured pictures hidden at the bottom of it.
I heaved the box into my arms, using the tip of my toe to open the door, swinging it wide and stepping out into the living room.
“Did you have a nice trip, Melanie?” The cold, steady voice reached me from across the room, causing me to gasp. The box slipped from my hands, the items spil ing across the floor, glass from the photo frames shattering as they crashed on the tile.
Blood throbbed against my eardrums and ran cold through my veins. My heart didn’t knowing whether to seize or pound its way completely from my chest.
No. Please. No.
But I couldn’t deny the dark figure, a shadow sitting leisurely in the large chair in front of the window, the faint amount of light coming in from outside obscuring everything but his silhouette. I gulped, trying to hold down the scream rattling in my throat.
“Nicholas...you...you...scared me,” I managed to force out, my mind racing. I clamored to find a way to get myself out of this situation, my eyes looking at the door. His eyes trailed mine, keen on my intent.
Even with as preoccupied as I had been with packing my things from my office, I stil would have heard him enter, and I knew then he hadn’t wanted me to know he was there. Because he knew. He had to have been waiting, watching. My stomach clenched. Did he fol ow me here from the airport?
“Going somewhere?” His tone was laced with sarcastic venom as he tilted his head to the side. His face slowly came into focus; his relaxed posture a paradox, his expression severe; the fury burning in his eyes was visible even across the darkened room.
His face shifted down, and I noticed the pile of papers resting on his knee. His hand moved slowly and deliberately as he reached down to pick them up, smacking them lightly against his knee.
I knew immediately what they were. How could I have been so stupid—so careless?