Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I’m sure she means it, but I wave a dismissive hand, nonetheless. “It’s much easier for a man.” What do I say now? I hardly remember why I came down the hall, to begin with. My palms are sweating, and my heartbeat is erratic. What do I do now? How do I reach her? I can hardly believe this matters so much.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she offers, “I guess everything is pretty much ready to go? It sure sounds busy down there.”
“Yes, but everything’s under control. There’s no rush. If you need another few minutes to get yourself ready, I can let everybody know.”
She offers a brave, if shaky, smile. “Do you really think it will matter? Besides, I’m as ready now as I’m ever going to be. Another few minutes won’t change anything.”
This is all wrong, even worse than I imagined. I don’t want her to sit there and take this the way she is. That’s it. That’s the problem. I want her to fight. I want her to care. The idea of her being broken and resigned leaves me feeling disappointed, conflicted, and even angry. What happened to her spirit? Is it all gone, used up? And all I’ll have for the rest of my life is the empty shell of a woman I destroyed. Some men might be satisfied with that—in fact, I’m sure many in my world would, as it would mean one less headache to deal with. A pliant, timid little wife without the backbone to speak up for herself—especially one as beautiful as the woman seated before me—is essentially the jackpot.
Not for me. I can live with a lot of things—and I’ve had to, all the decisions I’ve made in my life—but I don’t think I can bring myself to live with this. Knowing it was me who ruined her.
“Maybe you could—” I cut myself off before I can say anything idiotic like what was just about to fall from my lips. I was about to tell her to go, to run. To find a life of her own, far away from all of this.
For one brief, wild moment, her escape seems possible. I would take the fallout and accept all responsibility. I might even help her if she’d let me because she doesn’t deserve this, and I’m not going to be the reason for her endless misery. It isn’t fair to either of us.
“Ah, there you are!” As usual, Grandfather gets in the way, sneaking up on me out of nowhere and clapping me on the back before propelling himself into the room uninvited. He stops, his mouth falling open almost comically. He is truly playing it up today.” Oh, what a beautiful bride. What a vision. You make an old man very happy, both of you.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs, averting her eyes. The way she presses her lips together tells me she hasn’t forgotten their conversation. There must have been more to it than he told me. Not that I didn’t already know, but she’s only confirmed it now.
“You’re keeping everyone waiting,” he tells us, looking back and forth. “I would never deny a bride and groom the chance to spend a few private moments together, but time is of the essence. The sooner we get through the ceremony, the sooner the two of you can spend all the time together you wish.” There’s no ignoring the knowing look he gives me. I’m almost embarrassed for him.
“Look at you,” he says to me, hands on my shoulders, smiling from ear to ear. “I can hardly believe it. One day, you’ll understand this feeling, looking at someone and suddenly realizing the years that have passed. Don’t misunderstand me,” he adds, throwing a smile Elena’s way. “You know on the one hand, a child has grown into a man, but it’s moments like this that make you realize you’ve still seen the child inside all this time. Now, there is no question. But as I say, you’ll understand one day when your children grow.”
He’s about as subtle as a heart attack.
“Come on. Let’s go.” I don’t want to subject her to more of this since she seems to shrink a little with every word he says. “Elena, we’ll see you downstairs.” I want to give her one last reassuring look, but she’s staring down at her folded hands.
“Yes, your father will be up to see you momentarily,” Grandfather adds before we leave the room, and he closes the door. Once we’re in the hall, he claps me on the back. “A beautiful bride and a credit to you.”
I force what I hope passes for a smile when what I want to do is shake him. This is too twisted, too sick. I didn’t earn her. I didn’t win her love. I took her, held her captive, and now neither of us has any choice in this. How am I supposed to be proud? How can he crow about it like he does? It’s almost as if her presence has changed everything I thought I knew about myself, my family, and my life.