#ohtheangst

“So, who’s getting married?”  Andy asked, interrupting me from my thoughts.  She tried to lean over to get a better glimpse of the invitation in my hands.

“Maxwell’s brother, Bertrand.”  I smiled, scanning over the beautiful calligraphy.  “Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford cordially invites you to the celebration of his marriage to Lady Savannah Walker at the Beaumont Estate on Saturday, May 5th.  Formal attire required. ” I recited the perfectly proper wording off of the invitation.  “I would expect no less of the Duke of Ramsford.”  I snorted.

“It sounds so stuffy.”  Andy crinkled her nose.  “Are all of Cordonia’s people like that?”

“Well, if you met Bertrand, you’d understand,” I chuckled.  “He’s all about all things prim, proper, and respectable.  He’s a traditionalist through and through.”

“He sounds like a bore,” Andy said, shaking her head.  “So, are all of them like that?  That Maxwell guy you mentioned?” Andy pressed on.

I shook my head, thinking about Maxwell and Drake.  “Not everyone.”  I smirked.  “The groom’s brother, Maxwell, he’s anything but boring.  If anything, he keeps everyone on their toes with his crazy antics,” I laugh to myself thinking of his break-dance moves and the countless Beaumont bashes.  “The bride’s brother, Drake, he’s as common as they come, and he is probably the most down to earth fellow in all of court.  He really looked out for me while I was there.  He was such a genuinely decent guy.  Court is hard for commoners.”  

I bit on my lower lip recalling all of the hardships that I had encountered at court.  “Most nobles only care about titles and wealth.  Drake had neither, so it made him an outsider.”  I frowned a little.  “Just like me.”  

“Well, I’m happy you had someone who knew what you were going through while you were there.   Court seems like a pretty lonely place.”  Andy said decisively.  She paused for a moment before continuing.  “That being said, maybe you should think about going.”

My head snapped up.  “What?”

Andy reasoned, “You know …time heals all wounds and all that jazz.  It might be good for you to go back and get some closure.”

“I have closure,” I said in exasperation.  “I just figured out how to move on with my life . . . I don’t need to go stirring things up again,” I said firmly.

“Hear me out for a second,” Andy said.  

I suddenly couldn’t breathe again.  I looked at Andy as I paced around the living room.  I suddenly felt betrayed.  I had just spilt my heart out to her . . . telling her how tough court had been . . . how broken I became . . . and after all that she still thought it was a good idea for me to go back there?

“They obviously want you to come back.  You say you have closure, but what about them?  Maybe they need closure, too.  From the sounds of it, even though you keep saying this is all in your past, it’s still having a pretty big effect on you.  I’ve never seen you like this.  We’ve been roommates for over a year now, and you have been a pillar of strength.  But Ri, I’m starting to see some cracks in that pillar,” she said softly.  

”What are you talking about?” I questioned angrily.

“You get this invitation and suddenly all hell breaks loose.  Sweetie, you’re a hot mess right now.  And if you get like this over a simple wedding invitation, Lord only knows how you were when you first came back to New York.”  Andy gently continued.  “You are not doing okay, Ri.  Something is obviously bothering you and I think you need to go back there and figure it out.” 

I shook my head like a maniac.  “No way,” I said as I quickened my pace walking around the living room.  “Are you insane?  I haven’t seen any of these people in two years.  TWO YEARS.  Plus, I left pretty much telling everyone not to talk to me ever again.  I think my exact words were to forget I ever existed,” I cried as I started to wave my hands back and forth frantically.

“Riley,” Andy started to say.

“No.  You don’t get to talk anymore.  You need to listen.” I said firmly.  “How am I supposed to go anyway?  It’s all the way in Europe … in like three weeks!  Not to mention there’s all these pre-wedding festivities listed here that request the pleasure of my attendance.  It’s going to be galas and parties and rubbing elbows with all the people that tried to ruin me,” I rambled.  “I just can’t jet off to Cordonia on a whim.  I have a job.  I have the Mitchell grand opening to worry about.  Paul just got back from Boston, I doubt he’d even be able to be my plus one, and I’m certainly not going alone.  I just can’t drop everything and pretend I don’t have responsibilities.  I did that once before and it bit me in the ass.”

Andy sat on the couch staring up blankly at me.   I couldn’t blame her.  I had never flown off the handle like this before.  I watched as she stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me into a hug.

“Calm down, okay?  I’m sorry,” she said softly.  “Obviously, this place . . . these people did a number on you, and I was wrong to push.  I know this is hard, and it’s probably something you never thought you’d have to deal with, but from everything you just said, you are clearly not over everything that went down way back when.  Don’t you owe it to yourself to officially close this chapter of your life?”

I blinked rapidly, processing her words.  “It has been closed for two years,” I whispered angrily.  “What are you a psych major now?” I muttered.  I closed my eyes, kicking myself for taking my frustrations out on Andy.  I know she didn’t deserve it.  She had only been trying to help.

“Andy, I’m sorry.  I’ve just … lost my damn mind.”  I grabbed the invitation and threw it on the coffee table, staring at it as if that alone would will it away somehow.  “You’re right . . . I’ve worked so hard to forget about Cordonia and the people I met there, that I never really took the time to really sort everything out.  But I’m in a good place now, and I’d hate for all the progress I’ve made in moving on to get thrown out the window,” I exhaled deeply.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Andy asked.  “What does your gut say?”

“To throw that thing in the trash and forget it even got delivered.” I said firmly, even though I knew that was impossible.  That invitation had seared itself into my brain.  There was no way I could forget about it now.

Andy snorted, clearly thinking my plan was ridiculous.

“I told you, ignorance is bliss.”  My phone dinged with a text message from Paul. I breathed a sigh of relief.  “Look, I gotta go.  Paul just got into a cab and he’s on his way to Russo’s.” I explained.  “I love you for worrying about me, but I’m fine.  Okay?”

She looked at me in disbelief.

“All right, I’m not fine, but I will be,” I said with certainty.

“Go touch up your make up,” Andy relented.  “You’re a blubbering mess, and I don’t want you to not look good for your date with Paul,” she said.  “Although, you could meet him dressed in a paper bag and he’d probably compliment your creativity,” she added with a little bit of an eye roll.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I headed to the bathroom.  My waterproof mascara had served its purpose, and I only had a few smudges of make up here and there.  I rushed to clean myself up as quickly as I could.  I didn’t want to keep Paul waiting for too long, especially after he travelled home early just to see me.  As I rushed out the door, I could hear Andy yelling after me.

“Don’t forget to think about what I said!”

I couldn’t help but cringe.  She was never going to shut up about that damn invitation.

Once on the street, I hit the pavement running as quickly as I could.  The thing about New York was that everyone got everywhere by walking, catching the subway, or taking a cab.  I was fortunate enough to live in a pretty central area that allowed me to have access to some great restaurants and a plethora of stores.  Russo’s was only a few short blocks away.  If I hauled ass, I’d get there in ten minutes.

As I walk-ran toward the restaurant, I couldn’t help but let Andy’s words eat away at me a bit.  I should have been ecstatic about seeing Paul, but now, I had the burden of Andy’s words and the stupid invitation weighing heavily on my mind.  Was Andy right?  Should I make an effort to go?  But then, what if he was there?  Who was I kidding, of course he’d be there.  It was impossible for him to not attend Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding.  Could I handle seeing him face to face after all this time?  Could I even pretend that what we had between each other meant nothing?   I tried to push the thoughts aside as Russo’s came into view.  I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore.  I had made my decision – I wasn’t going to go.  I had Paul to think about.  And my job.  I couldn’t just drop everything to go jet setting to the Mediterranean.  New York was my life now., and Cordonia was just a really bad memory.  The invitation was getting trashed as soon as I got home.

I entered the restaurant as I attempted to quickly smooth the wayward strands of hair sticking up from my fast-paced walk.  I spotted Paul sitting in our booth.  We had come to Russo’s on our first date, and instantly fell in love with everything about the little corner restaurant.  Back then, the waiter was kind enough to seat us at the booth in the quietest area with the best view.  In the dozens of times we had come back here since, Paul would request the same table each time.  We liked to joke that we had exclusive rights to the table since we had probably sat there more than anyone else.  I know it was silly, but Paul loved the sentimentality of it all, and I’ll admit, it held some pretty fond memories for me as well.  It was where Paul had first started to piece the shattered parts of my heart back together.

My eyes met Paul as I approached closer to the booth.  Paul, as always, was meticulously dressed.  He was wearing a perfectly, tailored navy suit.  His tie was a matching He had impeccable style.  As he got up to greet me, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back.  As if my heart could swoon any more.  I smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss him softly on the cheek.  I didn’t deserve him.  He wrapped me in a warm embrace and I melted into him, letting the tension of the afternoon fade away.

“I’ve missed you.”  He murmured in my ear.  “Wildflowers for my wildflower,” he said as he handed me the gorgeous bouquet.

“You sir, are too much.  You just get back from your business trip, and you’re bringing me flowers?”  I shook my head smiling. “I’ve missed you too.  I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologized as I squeezed myself into the booth.  “Andy and I got into a bit of a fight before I came here, and it just kind of set things back a bit,” I exhaled heavily.

“That doesn’t sound too promising.  What happened?” He asked in concern.

I shrugged.  “It’s not important.  I mean, things aren’t exactly resolved, but they will be when I get home,” I waved him off.  “We can talk about it later.  Right now, I just want to spend time with you and eat some amazing Italian food.”  I looked for the menu, but found that it wasn’t on the table.  My eyes shot to Paul, “Did you order already?”

He nodded.  “I just got you your usual.  Although, I probably didn’t even have to order.  Reggie knows our order by heart already.”  

“True.”  I smiled warmly at him.  See?  Perfect.  He knew absolutely everything about me.  “What did I do to deserve you?”

He grabbed my hands from across the table.  “Oh, nothing special.  You were just your endearing self.”

And just like that, all was right in the world again.  I looked down at our joined hands and realized how happy I truly was.  Why would I give all of this up for more heartbreak?  

“So, how was Boston?”  I asked, as I pulled a slice of bread from the basket.

“Terrible.” He growled.  “I wish I never had see that city again.  Well … not so much the city, just most of the people ithere.  Plus, there have been so many headaches with the McCullough merger.  It’s a nightmare.  Truly.  No one wants to budge.  Looks like we’re going to have to meet a few more times before we come to even some semblance of a deal.”

“That’s too bad.  Hopefully the merger resolves quickly so that you don’t have to take too many flights back to deal with things.”  I could see the dark circles under his eyes and felt terrible.  All of the traveling back and forth was taking a toll on him, and even though he would never admit it, I’m sure it would probably be easier to just stay in Boston until everything was resolved, but he flew back and forth so that he could spend time with me.

“One can only hope.”  He agreed.  “I’m probably going to fly out there at the end of the month again.  He rubbed circles around my hand as he held it.  “But anyway, enough about McCullough.  I’ve got my best girl in front of me, and that’s all that matters now.”  He looked at me longingly.  “So ah … while we wait for our meals, I was hoping we could talk about something.  If you recall during our earlier conversation, there’s been something on my mind and I just can’t wait to talk about it.”

I sat up a bit straighter in the booth.   “Of course.  What was it that you wanted to discuss?  Is everything okay?”  

“Yes, of course.”  He smiled brightly.  “Everything’s perfect.  It’s just while I was in Boston I did some thinking.  I missed you every day.  The texts and Facetime sessions were great, but it wasn’t the same as having you by my side.”  He reached up to stroke my cheek, and I felt myself instantly flush over his gentle caresses.  “And every night I went to bed, I wished for you to be right there next to me, and then it had me thinking that maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

“The next step?” I looked at him a bit confused.  “What next step?” I asked.

“Of our relationship.” Paul broadly smiled.

I licked my lips nervously.  Next step?  As in marriage? My eyes widened a bit, and I could feel my leg bouncing nervously under the table.  Well, this escalated quickly.  Marriage wasn’t even something I thought was on the table.  At least not right now.

“Oh?” I asked, my voice a bit hoarse from being caught off guard with his suggestion.  “But don’t you like where things are at right now?  I mean, we’re pretty happy, right?”

“Well, of course.” Paul exclaimed.  "Things are going well.  Really well.  I love you, Riley, and I know you aren’t ready to say it yet, and you don’t need to … but we’ve been together for eight months now, and I know that you’re it for me.”  

I felt my mouth dry out.  Oh crap, he IS talking about marriage.  Oh my God.  I felt the heat from my anxiety rising up my neck.  I quickly let go of Paul’s hands and reached for my glass of water.  I took a large gulp.  “But we’ve only been together for eight months … how could you possibly know …” I trailed off, my face becoming hotter and hotter by the second.  There was no way I was ready for marriage.  Holy crap, I was so in like with Paul.  A lot.  I could even love him.  Someday.  Down the line.  When my heart wasn’t damaged.  He was funny and sweet and sensitive . . . but marriage?

“I’m not proposing or anything, Riley. I just think that we should start seriously thinking about moving in together.”

“Whew,” I exhaled a loud breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in.  As much as I cared about Paul, and enjoyed our time together . . . I hadn’t given any thought to a long-term future with him.  I loved spending time with him, and I loved our long conversations . . . but I didn’t know if I was IN love with him.  At least not yet.  And moving in with him?  God, that’s like a major step toward lifelong commitment.  Isn’t that the sort of thing you did after being together for a couple years?  “Moving in together?”  With everything that I had been dealt today, this was just the cherry on the sundae.  

“Well, yeah.  I’m not getting any younger Riley.  I’m 39.  I know I work a lot, and I’m on business trips more than I am at home, but I want a life with you.”  He reached for my hands again, gently rubbing my fingers.  I could feel my hands relax against his.  “I think moving in together will give us a whole new perspective on our relationship – it’ll bring us closer together.”

I sighed deeply.  “That’s a big step.  A very big step.”  I had missed him terribly while he was in Boston.  I missed snuggling with him, and talking to him . . . but moving in together meant being with one another all the time.  What if it ruined what we had?  

“It is, but I think it’s the right one.”  I could tell that Paul sensed my hesitation, so I tried smile a bit, but it probably came out as more of a grimace.

Paul frowned at me.  “Is it because you haven’t said you love me yet?  Is that why you’re holding back?  Because I don’t care about that.  I told you that I’m not in a rush for you to say it.  I don’t know what happened before.  I know you don’t like to talk about your past relationships, but I want you to know that I’m not like those other guys.  I will wait for as long as it takes.  I’m not going to give up on you.  I’m not going to give up on us.”

My heart flip flopped once more, and I could feel my eyes water as he spoke.  I will wait for as long as it takes.  After everything that happened today, I found myself thinking about him once again.  He had said those very same words to me two years ago, except, he didn’t really mean it.  I was almost certain that Paul did.  

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.”  Paul reached in his jacket pocket and handed me his handkerchief.  “No tears.  This is supposed to be something exciting.”  He smiled.  “I thought you’d be excited about it, too.”

I reached for his handkerchief gratefully and dabbed at my eyes.  “I’m so sorry, Paul.  I’m just overwhelmed,” I said between sniffles.  “I’m not freaking out about the whole moving in together thing,” I paused.  “Well, maybe I am just a little.  I just . . . I’ve had a rough day,” I sighed.

He stood up and scooted into the same side of the booth with me.  “The fight with Andy?” He asked in concern.  “When I spoke with you this morning, you were having a great day off,” he added.  “Everything okay at work?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled deeply.  “It’s not work,” I paused once more.   “The thing with Andy . . . it was a fight over a letter I got today in the mail from an old friend.  I’ve been invited to a wedding.”

“And that’s what you’re freaking out about?”  He said slowly, puzzled as to how that would make me so upset.

“In a way, yes.”  I nodded.  “Remember when we first started dating, I told you that I was still getting over something … well someone.” He nodded.  “It was some sort of fling you had before moving back to New York right?”

I contemplated his choice of word.  Fling.  It was so much more than just a fling for me.  It meant everything to me, but maybe that’s exactly how he saw it.  A fling with an American who got swept up in the grand romantic notion of love.  A fling.  The word still stung though.

“Something like that,” I sighed, suddenly feeling very uneasy.  “There’s a lot more to the story than I actually told you.”  I cringed at the thought of having to relive everything that I had just told Andy just an hour ago.  I cleared my throat and started to recollect everything – the moment I met him, the journey to Cordonia, falling in love with him, the heartbreak . . . all of it was finally laid out on the table for him to see – the good, the bad – the heartbreaking.  All the secrets I harbored from him for the last eight months came spilling out.  As I spoke, his eyes never left mine.  I didn’t cry this time.  Perhaps I was all cried out . . . or maybe just numb.  He didn’t speak or interrupt or even ask questions.  He just held my hand and squeezed when it seemed like I couldn’t get the right words out.  I tried my best to keep a brave face so that he knew that I was fine.  I wondered if he could see through the façade.  

After I was finished, there was an uncomfortable silence that lingered between the two of us.  I couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset or confused.  He was just staring at his hands, seemingly processing everything I had just told him, until a soft chuckle escaped from his lips.

“Well, suddenly I feel very inadequate.”  Paul deadpanned quietly.

“Huh?”  I said in confusion.

“I mean, when your girlfriend tells you that she used to date a Prince … wait I’m sorry … a King … and almost married him, it kind of puts corporate lawyer on the lower end of the spectrum in the dating pool,” he snorted.

I looked at him, mouth agape.  That wasn’t the reaction that I had anticipated.  I had expected yelling, or worse, him breaking up with me.  “What?” I asked again, still not comprehending how he could be so calm and relaxed about all of this.

“I mean it’s kind of hard to show up with flowers when you used to be with a guy that could have given you a whole kingdom.”  He smirked a little.  He was clearly joking, trying to make me feel better about everything.

I shook my head, lightly slapping him on the arm.  “Not funny,” I murmured, even though I was having a hard time stifling my own laughter now.

“It was two years ago, and honestly, from what I can see, there’s no competition.”  I said honestly.  “It didn’t work out between me and him, and now that there’s been a lot of distance, I realize now that it probably never would have worked out between us.  I always felt like I wasn’t enough for him.”  

I looked down at the table remembering the engagement tour, how he proudly walked around with Madeline on his arm.  I remembered the public interviews and newspaper articles about what a loving couple they were . . . while in the background, he was sneaking off to meet me on secret late night rendezvous.  Just as Cordonia was my dirty little secret . . . I was his.  It all felt so contrived.  He wanted the best of both worlds.  He kept promising me that things would work out . . . the truth would eventually come out.  He kept asking me to be patient.  For our sake.  He kept telling me to be patient, to give it time.  Then, suddenly time ran out.  

Paul’s voice broke through my thoughts.  “Hey . . . if he didn’t think you were enough for him, that’s his problem.  Not yours.  He’s the one that gave up the most amazing woman I have ever met.  His loss, is most certainly my gain,” he assured me.  I blushed and murmured a quiet thank you.

“So . . . you mentioned something about a wedding?” Paul said, quickly changing the subject.

“Yup.”  I nodded.  “Maxwell left me an email address to contact him at.  I’m assuming to give him my RSVP.  Andy thinks I should go.”

Paul was quiet for a second, mulling over my words.  “Do you want to go?”

“No . . . for obvious reasons.  I don’t really want to dredge everything back up,” I shrugged.  “I know . . . I know maybe it will bring me closure,” I rolled my eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he shook his head.  “It might be nice of you to visit with the people you’re still friendly with,” he admitted.  “But I’m not sure if it’s worth you getting hurt in the process,” he said honestly.

“Thank you,” I said.  “That’s exactly what I was trying to explain to Andy,” I explained.

“Andy really wants you to go huh?” He reasoned.  “That’s what’s making this harder on you.”

“Well, yeah.” I nodded.  “You know how Andy is, she wiggled her way into my conscience and had me second guessing everything.”  I sighed.  “I just don’t want to see him.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.”  Paul said simply.

I shook my head.  “I made up my mind, I’m not gonna go.  Anyway, it’s in like three weeks . . . and I’d have to be there for like two weeks,” I scoffed.  “Totally not possible with the Mitchell event coming up,” I said.

“When is the wedding?” Paul asked.

“May 5th,” I replied.

“Well, I’d like to say that if you changed your mind I’d go with you, but I’m heading back to Boston at the end of this month, and I’d probably be stuck there well into the middle of May,” he said as he looked at his schedule on his phone.

“See?  One more reason for me not to go,” I affirmed.

“You know I would go with you in a heartbeat, baby,” he said.  

I nodded.  “I know you would,” I said honestly.  “God, why are we even still talking about this?  I’m not going to go.  It’s crazy that I even considered it.  Why should I drop everything for a few weeks to go to a wedding for someone I haven’t even talked to in two years,” I said shaking my head.  “I should listen to my gut.  Maybe I’ll just send them like a nice punchbowl set or something . . .” I shrugged.

He nodded.  “I support you in whatever decision you make, sweetheart.”  

“Thank you,” I smiled earnestly.  “I appreciate how much you care about me and want the best for me.  I’m so lucky.”

“We’re both lucky,” he said.  “Maybe I’m lucky enough that you’ll say you’ll move in with me?” He pressed.  “Will you at least think about it?  I know there’s a lot going on right now, but just think about it.”

I forced a smile.  "Of course, I’ll think about it,” I squeezed his hands in encouragement.  “I just have so much on my plate right now, and like you said, you’re going to be going back to Boston at the end of the month,” I reasoned.

“I was actually hoping to have you moved in before I left,” he said sheepishly.

“Wow . . . um . . . that’s really fast,” I said quickly.  “I just . . . wow,” I said again.  “There’s so many factors to consider . . . I mean, you want me to move into your apartment?  I mean, babe, it’s amazing.  The view is spectacular and there’s so much space.  I can pretty much fit my whole apartment in your bedroom . . . but it’s also so far away from my office.  The commute is going to kill me.  Plus what about Andy?” I asked.  “I can’t leave her high and dry without a roommate.  How will she afford the rent?  I’d be such a crappy friend if I just up and left her to fend for herself,” I exclaimed.  I saw Paul’s face drop and zipped my lips.  I was rambling.  I squeezed his hands tightly.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not thinking clearly right now,” I shot him a half-smile.  “I promise that I will give it some serious thought,” I assured him.

He tried his best to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  “Of course, that’s fair.”  He smiled again, this time, it was a bit brighter.  “Looks like the food’s coming.”  

I took a deep breath, thankful for the distraction.  At least the moving in conversation was put on hold for right now.  

The rest of the dinner flew by without further mention of either of the bombshells of the night.  We fell into a comfortable conversation about a few of the upcoming parties I was planning, as we finished our dinners.  As we settled the bill, Paul led me out into the street, swept me into his arms, and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.  I couldn’t help but smile as butterflies floated freely in my stomach.

“Raincheck on movie night?” he asked, looking back at me with tired eyes.  “I didn’t get much sleep last night with with the excitement of coming back early,” he explained.

“Oh my gosh, don’t be silly.  We can definitely do movie night next week,” I assured him.  “You go home and get some rest.  I’m sure all that travel is catching up with you.”

He placed a soft kiss on my head and squeezed me tightly.  “Want to split a cab home though?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s such a beautiful evening, I think I’ll walk,” I motioned around me.

“Alright, beautiful.”  He pulled me closer to him, tipping my chin up as he kissed me gently.  

“Goodnight,” I murmured against his lips, falling into his embrace one more.  

He softly ran his fingers through my hair.  “Until next time, sweetheart,” he replied as he walked down the street to hail a cab home.

I spent the rest of the walk back to my apartment mulling over Paul’s words.  Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.  I started to have second thoughts about my decision.  I mean, no one would really miss me if I didn’t go right?  Then again, Maxwell went through all the trouble of tracking me down . . . shouldn’t I put all my fears and worries aside and do this for Bertrand?  It’s only a couple of weeks.  I could survive that surely?  Maxwell and Bertrand were like the brothers I never had . . . and never really wanted, but that was beside the point.  When they took me in, I suddenly had a family again.  And for a while, it felt wonderful to belong somewhere.  Should I go as a thank you?  I mean, I was there when he reconnected with Savannah . . . I had helped him through the shock of finding her again and learning about Bartie.  I’d watched as Bertrand came back to life.  It’d be amazing to see them finally get their happily ever after.

And what of Maxwell?  Sweet Maxwell who was hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to reach out to me and bring me back to them.  That hope never faded after all.  He apparently couldn’t … or wouldn’t move on.  The invitation and email address made that clear.  It would be wonderful to see Maxwell again.  I actually kind of, sort of missed him.  I feel bad about how things ended and how I treated him when I came back to New York.  He didn’t deserve that.  

But what if I went to Cordonia . . . would I be forced to see him?  Them together?  I don’t think I could stomach seeing Madeline’s conniving face.  What if they had a family now?  Could I pretend to be okay when the man who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with had moved on?

What if I lost myself again?  What if I got caught up in the whirlwind of court?  I can’t go through another round of rumors and whispers from the other nobles.  Was my scandal ever resolved?  Did they ever get the truth out of Tariq?  Or was I still the court slut who slept around to get ahead?  

I’m doing it again.  I’m spiraling and I need to stop.  These unsavory thoughts were going to do me in.  This just proves that I can’t go back there.  I’ll end up breaking down.  Maybe this time it will be worse.

When I got back to my apartment, I saw that the living room lights had been turned off, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I was not ready to go for round two with Andy tonight.  It looked like Andy had called it quits for tonight and went to go hibernate in her bedroom.  I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, and glanced at the coffee table.  The invitation mocked me from where I had thrown it earlier.  I ambled over to the table, picked up the invitation and tossed it into the kitchen trash.  That was that.  It was done. Now all I needed to do was email Maxwell with my regrets and ask where I can send a gift so that I could put this whole nightmare behind me.  

I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured myself a generous amount in my favorite glass.  I plopped back onto the couch, pulled out my laptop and got to work.  How hard could this be?  Exchange a few niceties, thank him for thinking of me, and tell him I can’t make it.  Easy peasy.

As I logged into my email account and clicked on the new message button, I found myself stuck.  How do you start an email to someone you haven’t spoken to in two years?  I took a sip of my wine pondering how I would start and what I would say, then began typing quickly.

Dear Maxwell, Hi, it’s been a while.  Got the invite.  I can’t make it.  Would love to send a gift though.

I frowned.  That was terrible.  It sounded like I didn’t even care.  I sighed, gulping down some of my wine and crossing my legs on the couch. I tried to type again.

Dear Maxwell, I’m so sorry that I haven’t kept in touch.  Things were hard when I came back to New York, so I thought a clean break would have been better.

Oh my gosh, that’s totally off point.  I paused, thinking again, pouring a bit more wine into my almost empty glass.

Dear Maxwell, How long has it been?  Two years?  Wow time sure flies.

Nope.  Now I’m not even addressing the elephant in the room.  I sighed, a bit stumped about what to say.  I stared at the laptop’s screen, at a loss for words.  This hadn’t seemed so hard in my head.  I sighed again, and tried to type something else.

Dear Maxwell,

I got your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding.  First of all, I’m so happy for them.  Happy for all of you.  But I can’t come back.  I’m so flattered that you thought to invite me after all this time, but my heart

I stopped typing, hit the delete button, and started again, drinking just a bit more wine than before.  

Dear Maxwell,

I received a beautiful invitation in the mail announcing Bertrand and Savannah’s upcoming marriage.  It will be a beautiful day . . . that I won’t be attending.

I crinkled my nose.  That’s a bit too harsh.  I stabbed the delete button once more, took another gulp of my wine and started again.

Dear Maxwell, House Beaumont must be knee deep in wedding planning, and I can only imagine how busy things must be for all of you.  Thank you for thinking of me and wanting me to be a part of such a special occasion.  I’ll admit that I was more than a little surprised when I saw the invitation.  I am so happy that you thought to include me in their special day, but for reasons of which I’m sure you’re aware, I am unable to attend.

I read and reread the paragraph, and deleted it once again.  God, why am I spazzing out about this?  Why can’t I just say no, with regrets and be done with it?

As I went to pour myself another glass of wine, I realized that the bottle was now completely empty.  In the course of the last hour, I had drained an entire bottle of wine by myself.  I bit my lip.  This wasn’t a job for wine anyway.  I needed something harder.  I stood up and headed over to the liquor cabinet, sifting through the various bottles until my hand landed on an unopened bottle of whiskey.  I pulled the bottle down, grabbed a glass, and poured the amber liquid in generously.  Whiskey certainly wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but I would happily indulge in something that might numb me for a while.  As I sipped from the glass, I could already feel the smooth liquor working to calm my nerves.  With the liquid courage entering my system, I started to type once more.

Dear Maxwell, Hey, it’s Riley.  I know it’s been a while, but I am reaching out to you because I received your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding.  Let me first start off by saying that I am so happy for them! They truly deserve a happily ever after, and am so happy to hear that they are joining their lives together.  That being said, I am unfortunately unable to attend.  I run my own business now, and can’t really be away for an extended period of time.  I hope you understand.  Please let me know if they are registered anywhere as I would happy to send along a gift in celebration of their nuptials.  Please send my regards to all of them, and I hope you are doing well. Sincerely, Riley

   That very same day was also the second time he ever spoke to Roman. He was causally making slightly flirtatious conversation with Roman Godfrey's sister, Shelley, a girl who, like Peter and the two Ruiterkamp siblings, was also labeled a freak and forced into being an outcast, when a guy purposefully bumped into him, making him drop his book. The boy the preceded to call Peter "wolf fucker" and howl at him tauntingly as he walked away. Shelley then apologized to Peter via the automated voice on her phone. To which Peter replied, "Don't be sorry, you're too pretty," as he gently touched a strand of her hair, quickly but playfully flicking it with his fingertip.

   Peter then bent down to pick them up, reaching for a book but failing to pick it up when a familiar hand slammed down onto it dramatically, picking it up for him. The hand then gave Peter the book and he looked up to see that it belonged to Roman.

   "Get your fucking hands of my sister," Roman said menacingly, causing his sister and Peter to laugh.

   "Is this funny to you?" Roman asked him seriously, causing the two to stop laughing and for Peter to shake his head, causing Roman to bust out laughing while attempting to mutter out a, "I'm just kidding."

   "You want a lift home?" Roman asked after his laughter died down.

   "Why?" Peter asked.

   "Whatever, or not." Roman shrugged, beginning to walk away. Peter then followed, taking him up on his offer after he said his goodbyes to Shelley.

   The two of them talked in the car, getting to know each other before Roman pulled up to the curb of Peter's residence. Roman then noticed Peter's drawing and admitted to him that, the night before, he had a dream about the thing Peter drew. He then asked Peter if he felt it too, to which Peter eventually replied with an inquiry as to what he meant. Roman then explained that he meant whatever was "down there" and Peter sarcastically asked if he meant the septic tank. Roman replied by saying it was deeper than that before beginning to admit something else to him.

   "I get this feeling sometimes, like something really important is about to happen," Roman admitted, causing a pause in the conversation. During this pause, Peter heard the jingle of a bike chain approaching and noticed one of the Ruiterkamp siblings approaching, on their bike, the curb which Roman's car was parked by.

   "Thanks for the ride," Peter said quickly before getting out, for whatever reason not wanting Sawyer and Roman to interact.

   Roman then started the engine and drove off, not noticing the girl approaching Peter on her bike.

   "Hey," Sawyer greeted as she hopped off her bicycle, putting down on the curb.

   "How'd you get here so fast?" Peter asked her curiously.

   "Took the shortcut you told me about, the one that goes through the park," She explained.

   "Where's Luke? I didn't see him at school today," Peter asked.

   "He stayed home, he says he has the flu but I think he's just skipping," Sawyer explained.

   "So when Luke's not here drive you, you take your bike?" Peter asked teasingly. "What? Does he not share the car?"

   "No, not that it matters anyway, I can't drive," Sawyer said.

   "What, you don't have your license?" Peter asked.

   "Well that and I never took behind-the-wheel," Sawyer explained.

   "Too cool for driving school?" Peter asked teasingly.

   "No, more like I wrapped our older brother's car around a tree a week after my fifteenth birthday," Sawyer said causing Peter to wince jokingly.

   "So she can't drive," Peter muttered while sporting an amused grin as the two of them headed down the long stairway towards his late uncle's home.

   "No she cannot," Sawyer replied, mirroring his expression as they walked side-by-side.

   Once they made it inside, the two of them got situated, turning on the tv and getting their homework stuff set up, before Peter introduced Sawyer to his mother. Then for the rest of the afternoon the two of them did homework together, well, actually Sawyer worked on both of their homework assignments while Peter watched the movie on tv, his mom watching alongside him. Every now and then Lynda, his mother, would nudge him, signaling that he should be helping Sawyer, to which he would huff and then pretend to help Sawyer for a maximum of thirty seconds before reverting back to watching the movie. Although considering she was getting paid to do this, unbeknownst to Peter's mom, she didn't mind much. His mom began to flip through his sketchbook as he sipped his beer and, sitting next to him, Sawyer continued to busy herself with both his homework and her own.

   "Well, as an artist, you could use a little development," Lynda teased causing Peter and Sawyer to snicker.

   Lynda then came across a flyer for homecoming in his sketchbook.

   "Homecoming, you two going?" Lynda asked.

   "Nah, I am home," Peter said causing Sawyer to bite back a smile.

   "Well, I am, he's not," Sawyer replied.

   "You're going?" Peter asked her, a bit surprised that she was planning on attending.

   "Yeah, Luke wants to go," She replied.

   "So sicko missed school, but still somehow convinced your dad to let him go to the dance?" Peter teased.

   "Nah, dad's gone on a work trip for the next six months, so all Luke's gotta do is sneak out past our eighty-year-old grandma who sleeps from the hours of seven at night to seven in the morning," Sawyer explained.

   "Seems easy enough," Peter added jokingly.

   "Flier says it's a costume dance, so what are you two dressing up as?" Lynda asked.

   "We're gonna be Ashley and Sam Weir from the show Freaks and Geeks," Sawyer said.

   "I'm guessing that was your decision," Peter said.

   "Yeah, Luke wanted to be Aaron Carter and for me to be his twin sister Angel," Sawyer said, rolling her eyes at the thought.

   "But you two aren't twins," Peter pointed out at the same time that Lynda asked, "Aaron Carter has a twin sister?"

   "My thoughts exactly," Sawyer said referring to both of the comments made by the two Rumanceks.

   "Speaking of dances," Peter said as he looked at the wall clock, "It's six, you might wanna get going."

   Sawyer groaned in response before begrudgingly standing up and gathering her things. "Wish me luck," she said to the Rumanceks before departing.

   "Nice meeting you," Lynda said as the young girl left.

   "You too," Sawyer responded.

   "See you at school on Monday," Sawyer said to Peter, flashing both the Rumanceks a genuine smile before departing.

   Later that night, the Ruiterkamp siblings showed up at the dance, adorned in their seventies grunge and nerdy style costumes.

   "You look nothing like Sam Weir, your hair's too done up and he would never leave his shirt untucked when wearing khakis, especially not at school let alone at a school dance; he always tucks his shirt in to his khakis," Sawyer told her brother, regretting letting him make last-minute wardrobe changes to his half of her costume of choice.

   "Who cares? I look less nerdy like this. It's not like anybody's gonna get your reference anyways. I mean, the show was canceled for a reason, well two actually, one being that it sucked and two being that only like ten people watched it," Luke told her and Sawyer gasped in response.

   "You take that back." She demanded which caused Luke to snicker.

   "Whatever. How about we just try to enjoy ourselves tonight, is that cool with you?" Luke suggested to his older sister.

   "Fine," Sawyer grumbled before following her younger brother out onto the dance floor, both teens making sure to put lots of distance between them as to not spark up those incest rumors again. How their peers had even gotten that idea was a mystery to them, they were just like any other set of siblings in this town, but little did they know that starting absurd, outrageous rumors based on nothing but the knowledge someone's name and face was what the teens of Hemlock Grove were known for, well along with being known for how gullible they are, hence why these outlandish rumors take off and are so commonly believed.

   The two then danced for a bit, the whole time Sawyer wondered why in the hell the came in the first place seeing as they knew no one except for each other. After only a few minutes of dancing casually to the upbeat track, Sawyer had convinced Luke to let the two of them leave early, right as the song switched from the familiar upbeat one to a more ambient, techno track. Luke eventually agreed after some moments of hesitation, so the two siblings left. They got in Luke's car and Luke started it up just before they began to hear a chorus of screams and shouts. Upon hearing these cries of distress, the two noticed a herd of their peers pouring out of the school in a state of panic. They were concerned by this but decided to leave nonetheless, reasoning that the herd was probably running to get away from something which meant they should do the same and get the hell out of there.

——

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I shook my head, trying to rid the thoughts from my head.  That was a lifetime ago.  I’m not the same person that I was back then.  I’ve moved on from that life and everything in it . . . including the Beaumont Brothers.  What could they possibly want from me after all this time?  I hadn’t heard anything from anyone back in Cordonia in nearly two years.  

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  I hadn’t heard from the others – Bertrand, Hana, Drake, him . . . they had all respected my wishes to be left alone.  Maxwell, on the other hand, hadn’t taken my departure well at all.  In true form, he had relentlessly tried to contact me.  Emails, telephone calls, he even tried to add me on a few of my social media accounts.  In hindsight, I had been truly awful to him.  He was nothing but kind and loyal to me during my time in Cordonia, and all he wanted to do was stay in touch . . . but I just couldn’t.  It hurt far too much.  Thinking of Maxwell meant thinking about him, and that just couldn’t happen.  

Whenever he attempted to contact me, I would change my phone number . . . if he happened to get a hold of my email address, I would change my email address shortly thereafter . . . it got to the point that I had to deactivate all of my social media accounts just to get away from his incessant pestering to come back.  Come home, as he had put it.  But Cordonia was never my home.  Not really. Many at court had made that utterly clear.  I didn’t belong.  I wasn’t one of them, and I never would be.  I was a mere commoner from New York . . . I wasn’t even European bred.  All I would ever be was some low-class waitress with no future.  That’s all they could see when they looked at me.  It was bad enough trying to survive a broken heart, but to also deal with the constant whispers and comments behind my back?  I just couldn’t do it.

By the end of the engagement tour, I was broken.  Madeline had won.  I didn’t have any fight left in me.  I regretted the day he walked into my bar and made me fall in love with him.  I wished that I never stepped foot in that blasted country because all it ended up bringing me was pain and heartache.  A few months after I left, the attempts at contact went silent . . . or maybe I had finally hidden myself enough that no one knew where I was anymore.  Or perhaps, Maxwell finally caught the hint that I was never going back to Cordonia.  That I had moved on . . . and maybe Maxwell realized he should have moved on, too.  But this envelope . . . this damn envelope said something different.  Apparently, they hadn’t forgotten about me.  But maybe I didn’t want to be remembered.

“Get rid of it,” I said curtly, before tossing the envelope on the coffee table.  “Toss it in the trash, fly it out the window.  I don’t care what you do with it.  Just get it out of here.  I don’t want to open it.”

“What?” Andy exclaimed.  “Why?” She said, following me back into my bedroom.

“I don’t want to talk about it Andy.  Not now.  Not ever,” I said firmly.

God, one damn envelope and I feel like my whole world is collapsing.  Who did they think they were, huh?  I was doing fine.  I was happy.  I had gone nearly three months without so much as a second thought about any of them . . . then they just contact me out of the blue like this?  I paused, I was spiraling.  This happened a lot when I first moved back.  I tried to calm my breathing.  I could feel myself hyperventilating.  

“You’re freaking me out!” Andy exclaimed.  “You’re being ridiculous right now,” she scolded.  “What has you tripping out so badly?  It’s just an envelope for God’s sake, Riley.”

“Nothing in that envelope will be of any good to me, Andy.  I mean it.  Get rid of it,” I pleaded with her.

“No way,” she shook her head.  “If you won’t open it; I will,” she said, her hands grabbing at the envelope, her fingers starting to pull at the envelope’s seal.

“Stop,” I yelled.

“What has gotten into you?” She said.  I could feel the judgment in her eyes.  Why couldn’t she just leave this alone?  Couldn’t she see that this envelope was like Pandora’s box and once I opened it, there would be no going back.  I couldn’t just seal it up again and pretend that it didn’t exist.  

“Andy please,” I sighed heavily, trying my best to fight back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall.

“Riley, you need to tell me what’s going on,” she said with a mixture of confusion and worry in her voice.  “Do I need to call Paul?”  She asked in desperation.  She was holding the envelope out of my reach.

I threw myself onto the couch, my chest feeling heavier than it had ever felt before.  “I don’t even know how they found me,” I whispered.

“What are you going on about?” Andy looked at me with stern eyes.

“Please . . . “ I begged.  “I just can’t deal with this right now . . . I just . . . I can’t talk about any of this,” I sighed.

“Riley, we don’t keep secrets,” she said seriously.  “Never have I ever kept anything from you.  We tell each other everything.  The good . . .the bad . . . the crazy.  This is a no judgment zone.  You know that.  Whatever is in that envelope . . . no matter how bad you think it is . . . I’m here for you, and I’d never let anything hurt you . . . you know that right?”

My voice was caught in my throat, so I could only nod.  I cleared my throat, my eyes pleading with her.  “Just . . . just get rid of it,” I pleaded.  The tears that I had so desperately tried to hold back now flowing freely down my cheeks.  

I could see the fear and trepidation in Andy’s eyes.  She looked at me again and tossed the envelope in the trash.  “Okay,” she conceded.  “If that’s what you want . . . I’m going to respect your wishes.  I’m going to give you some privacy so that you can deal with . . . with whatever that was about,” she said.  She slowly started to retreat out of my bedroom.  “But Ri?” “Yeah?” I whispered.  

“We’re going to talk about all of this when you’re feeling up to it, okay?  Whatever is bothering you . . .or scaring you . . . it’s not good to keep that crap in,” she said firmly before closing the door behind her.  I sighed, throwing myself onto my bed.  With the door closed and Andy out of the room, I finally allowed myself to truly fall apart.

It was a few hours later when I woke with a start.  I had cried myself to sleep.  God, I was a train wreck.  My eyes shifted to the alarm clock on my end table and my heartbeat quickened.  I was going to be late for my date with Paul.  I threw the covers off of me, and looked in my vanity mirror.  I looked horrible.  My eyes were swollen, my cheeks were blotchy, and my hair was disheveled.  How could things have turned so poorly in a matter of hours?  I quickly ran to my bathroom and tried my best to camouflage the hours of crying with some make up.  I threw on the cutest outfit I could find and hustled to find a comfortable pair of boots.  I needed to throw myself into this date with Paul and not think about everything that happened over the last couple of hours.

I rushed into the living room heading straight toward the kitchen to grab my keys, when I was jolted in surprise.  Andy was sitting at the island counter waiting for me.

“Hey,” Andy said softly as turned to face me.  “Can we talk?”

I shook my head in disagreement.  “I’m running late . . . my date with Paul . . .” I trailed off.

“Riley, we need to talk.  Text Paul and let him know that you’re running late.  He’ll wait for you,” she assured me.

I swallowed thickly, a large lump forming in my throat.  “Okay,” I sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t give in so easily.  I had a major freak out . . . something that I don’t think she had ever seen before.  After shooting a quick text to Paul, I turned my full attention to Andy.  “I really don’t want to get into all of this right now . . . “ I started to say, hoping that she would just let all of this drop so that we can move forward with our lives.

“Well . . . you’re going to have to give me something, Riley,” she persisted.

“I’m fine,” I murmured, my voice coming out a bit choppy.  I cleared my throat.  “I’m fine,” I said a little louder.

“You’re not,” she said adamantly.  

I shook my head shortly.  “I am.  I was just . . .a bit caught off guard.”

She didn’t believe me.  I could see it in her eyes.  She knew that I was lying through my teeth. The makeup may have hid my red nose and swollen face from all of my crying, but she could see the pain in my eyes.   My eyes started to water again . . .and I tried to sniff them back and hold it together.

Andy sensed that the tears were about to fall and pulled me into an embrace so tight that I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“I’m not okay,” I gasped out, and the tears began to slide down my cheeks.  

Andy’s embrace became tighter, her arm rhythmically rubbing up and down my back, trying to calm the sobs that kept coming out.  

“Ri,” Andy hesitantly began.  “What’s going on?”  She softly pulled back to look at me.  “Who is this letter from?”

I shrugged, wiping the tears away from my face.  “Some people I never thought I’d hear from again.”

“You’re going to have to give me a bit more than that,” she reasoned.

I turned away from Andy.  I knew she was worried.  I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes.  “It’s complicated,” I muttered as I rubbed my forehead.  All of the crying had caused a headache to come on.  “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got lots of time.” Andy pulled me over to the couch, sitting me down on one side while she sat on the other.  She grabbed a pillow and placed it behind her back.  “And now I’m extra comfy.  Plus, I’m not going to quit bugging you until you tell me what you’re freaking out, so really, you’d just be better off getting this over with already.”  She smiled, nudging me with her elbow.

“I thought you had a thesis to work on,” I said, motioning to the paperwork strewn all across the coffee table and floor.  I didn’t want to talk about it.  Not now.  Maybe not ever.

“This is more important.”  Andy grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.  “Now spill.”

I couldn’t help but sigh.  Cordonia had been my dirty little secret for so long that I didn’t really know what to say.  When I moved back to New York, I didn’t tell anyone about my time gallivanting across Europe.  I was so dead set on forgetting everyone and everything that it was easier to just pretend that none of it actually happened.  

My gaze met Andy’s eager stare.  Maybe it was finally time to come clean about everything that happened?  After all, before the envelope arrived I was happy and thriving.  Hadn’t the wounds healed?  I was way better than when I first moved back.  I had great friends, an amazing boyfriend, a fantastic business . . . things had changed for the better.  I swallowed again willing myself to be strong enough to talk about everything that had happened back in Cordonia.

“Okay . . . so, before we met, I was a wreck,” I began slowly.  “I told you that I had been traveling before coming back to New York.” Andy nodded.  “You did like a summer abroad thing, right?” She asked.

“Not exactly,” I sighed.  “I had been waiting tables trying to save enough money so that I could go back to school.  It was a dead end job really, but it paid my bills and I was so close to having enough money to finish out my degree,” I explained.

“Okay . . .” she trailed off.  “That’s how you could afford to do the study abroad program then?”

“I never participated in a study abroad program,” I said quietly.  “I let you believe that’s what happened because I didn’t want to talk about what really happen.

Andy’s eyes widened.  “Wait, so you lied to me?” Her face hardened into an angry grimace.

“I didn’t lie . . . I just never corrected you when you assumed that I was doing a study abroad program,” I said hurriedly.  “I didn’t want to talk about what I was really doing because it was too hard and it hurt too much,” I explained.

Andy stiffened her back.  “Well, what were you doing then if you weren’t studying abroad?”

“So, I left Cordonia about two years ago.  It’s a tiny country in Europe right off the Mediterranean.”  I grabbed one of our decorative pillows and squeezed it tightly to my chest.  “I never talked about my time there because it wasn’t the greatest experience of my life.  I had no intention of going back there so I figured what was the point in bringing it up?”  I brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face.  “I didn’t even really plan on seeing any of the people I met again.  Something happened … and I just wanted to forget things  … move on.”

I shook my head.  I wasn’t making any sense.  I was started to ramble.  This was a lot harder than I had expected it to be.  I inhaled deeply.  “I guess I better start at the beginning,” I said as I exhaled the breath I had taken in.

“That’s typically a good place to start.”  Andy smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Right . . . so I was working the night shift at Upscale; it was almost closing time and this party walks in, tourists … you know the kind, loud, flashy,” I started to motion with my hands.  “My coworker asked me to take them because he was running late for a date.  I needed the extra cash and figured a large party like that would likely leave a pretty big tip, so I took it.  It was four guys celebrating a bachelor party.  At the end of the night, one of the members of the party came up to me and started talking to me, asked if I knew any good places for them to continue their evening,” I explained.  

“Sounds like he was trying to hit on you,” Andy commented.

I smiled at the memory.  “I kind of thought he was, too,” I agreed.  “Anyway, I offered a few suggestions, and then he asked if I wanted to join them.  He said they weren’t really familiar with the area and the wanted a New Yorker to show them around.  I was almost off the clock and I didn’t exactly have a full social calendar, so I figured why not?  They were all pretty cute, and I was looking forward to having a good time.”

“Sounds harmless enough,” Andy nodded in agreement.

“Exactly . . . and the guy that invited me … he seemed pretty special.”  I blushed as my head filled with thoughts about him.  I could vividly remember everything about him.  How he looked.  What he wore.  How he smelled.  Just thinking of that night caused my heart to beat faster.

Andy looked at me eagerly, prodding at me to continue.

“We kind of hit it off, and we ended up spending most of the night together – talking, laughing, sharing our dreams.  It was intense.  I hadn’t felt that sort of connection with someone … well ever.”  I smiled softly.  “But at the same time, I was trying my best not to get too invested in him because, well, they were tourists and I the last thing I wanted to become was a one night hook up, so I accepted that the only thing that would come out of that night was a great connection with a seemingly great guy.”  I adjusted myself on the couch, swinging both of my legs underneath me to get more comfortable.  “As the night went on, he let slip that they were out celebrating his bachelor party.” Andy’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.  “You minx, you!”  Andy exclaimed.  “Hitting on a semi-married guy!”  

I shook my head.  “You have it all wrong.  It wasn’t like that.”  I remember feeling the exact same way though.  I remember being so angry at him for misleading me during the whole night.  “Of course, I freaked out and yelled at him about being a player . . . but then he explained that he didn’t know who he was going to be marrying.”

She arched an eyebrow.  “Um … how is that even possible?”

"Right?  I thought the exact same thing.  So … this is where I might lose you … I don’t even know if I believe it sometimes.  So, like I said they were tourists from Cordonia on vacation in the states for his bachelor party.  He just so happened to be part of Cordonia’s royal family.”

If Andy’s jaw could gape any wider than it already was, I would have been shocked.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know … trust me, I know.  It sounds unbelievable.  I didn’t believe it at first.  Honestly, the first thing I wanted to do after he told me was run away.  Especially since everything sounded so ridiculously complicated . . . but like I said . . . I was resigned to the fact that nothing would happen between us anyway and that it was just one of those serendipitous moments where you form a great connection but nothing more comes of it.”

I started to fiddle with the pillow that I was holding.  I ran my fingers over the edges.  I looked down, the memories becoming a bit too much for me to handle.  

“Of course . . . it didn’t end up that way,” I sighed.  “After we all went our separate ways that night, I tried not to think about him.  But he was all I thought about for the rest of the night and into the following morning.  It was like I was some sort of lovesick teenager,” I sighed.  “Crazy right?  I knew the guy for all of a few hours and I couldn’t stop thinking about him,”

Andy gave my knee an encouraging squeeze.  “Not crazy  . . . you can’t help when you make a connection with someone,” she said trying to comfort me.

“Well, then before I knew it … Maxwell … the guy I’m thinking sent me the letter,” I said pointing to the trash can “was at my bar convincing me to go back with them as a possible suitor for the Crown Prince.  It was crazy.  Hell, I was crazy.  But I figured why the hell not?  So I quit my job, packed a couple of bags, grabbed my passport, and off I went.”

“Just like that?”  Andy seemed genuinely surprised.

“Just like that.”  I nodded.

Andy laughed a little, “That sounds nothing like you. You’re always so careful and calculated about everything.”  

“Oh believe me, it was actually very like me, at least the me back then.  I liked to take risks, and I had figured even if it didn’t work out with him, I’d get to go on one hell of an adventure.  Of course, I never thought I’d actually fall in love.”  My voice softened a little.  “Through all the stupid competitions and court events, I fell in love with him.  Didn’t think I would … but I did.  And he fell in love with me.  At least I thought he did.”

Andy put her arm around me.  “It sounds like he meant a lot to you.”

“He did, but then things happened and we couldn’t be together.”  I wiped at my eyes.  God . . . I haven’t cried this much in years.  I didn’t want to rehash all of the awful memories.  I didn’t want to think about how the engagement tour had gutted me . . . I didn’t want to think about Madeline wearing his ring and holding his hand.  After all this time, it still broke my heart to remember what it was like sitting on the sidelines while someone else planned to marry the man of my dreams.  

“Well, I know the story doesn’t have a happy ending because you ended up back here.”  She looked a bit sad as she said it.  “I mean . . . wow, Ri.  It sounds like you had the love of a lifetime,” she admitted sadly.

I gave her a half-hearted smile.  “At the time, I didn’t think it was a happy ending, but you know what,   it was a happy ending in disguise.  Had things worked out how they were supposed, I would be there instead of here with you.”  

I knew I was right.  Had things ended with me marrying him . . . my whole life would be so different.  Who knows if I would even be happy?  I never would have met Andy . . . I never would have had my own business.  I never would have met Paul.  This was my life now.  No good could come from dwelling on the past.

“And that’s why I don’t want to open the envelope,” I said.  “I’m happy it’s in the trash.  It’s not going to change what happened or who I am now, so what good will opening it do?”

“Maybe it’ll give you some closure?”

“Or maybe it’ll be like Pandora’s box and will open a whole new set of problems,” I said frankly.  “Andy . . . this is my life.  I can’t go through what I went through all those years ago,” I said confidently.

“What if I opened it for you?”  Andy asked.  “It must be pretty important, Ri.  This Maxwell guy went through a lot of trouble to make sure it got to you.”

I shook my head once more.  “No.  Ignorance is bliss right?  Maybe not knowing what’s inside is better.  Nothing good comes from stirring up the past, especially things that involve Cordonia.”

“Riley, I know there’s some bad memories  .  . . “ Andy trailed off.

I shot her an irritated look.

“Okay, maybe that’s an understatement.  But look … if these people cared enough to reach out to you … after all this time … don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find out why?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.  “Andy . . . enough.  You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hey, I’m serious.  You said it yourself, you don’t even know how they found you.  They must have spent a great deal of time and energy trying to track you down.”

I licked my lips anxiously as I watched her head over to the trash bin.  She picked the envelope out of the trash, and flung it over to me.

“Regret is a crummy feeling, Riley.  I know you think that pretending that this letter doesn’t exist seems like the right thing, but trust me when I say it isn’t,” she said calmly.  “It might not matter to you now . . . it might not matter to you ten years from now . . . but maybe in twenty years when you think back on it, it will.  And there’s nothing you can do about it then except wonder ‘what if?’”

“What if it’s something bad?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“What if it’s your friends reaching out because they miss you?”  Andy countered.

I picked the envelope off the couch where it had landed after Andy threw it at me.  There was a part of me that knew Andy was right.  Would I be able to live with myself years from now if I was filled with regret about not knowing what the letter said?  I played with the edges of the thick envelope.  The letter was from one of the Beaumont brothers, of that I was certain, and throughout my time in Cordonia they had been nothing but kind and protective of me.  They were like the older brothers I never had growing up.  They took me into their home, accepted me as a member of their house, and asked for nothing in return.  I sighed heavily, looking at Andy for encouragement.

“No matter what happens, I’m here for you,” she said, reaching out and squeezing my shoulder.  

I took a deep breath before I started to slowly slide my finger across the envelope’s seal.  I could feel my heartbeat quicken in anticipation.  I carefully removed the elegant letter.  Scanning through the wording, I immediately realized what it was.

“It’s a wedding invitation,” I exclaimed in surprise.  As I opened it further I noticed that there was a tiny slip of paper nestled in the envelope.  Two words were scrawled in Maxwell’s chicken scratch along with an email address.

   "What?" Sawyer asked in disbelief.

   "What you did out there, that was you finally utilizing your powers and finally realizing that you even possess such powers," Their grandmother explained before coming to sit in between the two siblings on Sawyer's bed. The siblings simply sat there in silence, shell-shocked by what their grandmother was telling them, by what she was suggesting to be the truth, their truth. Their silence unintentionally served as a cue for their grandmother to continue, so she did just that.

   "They surfaced when you were thirteen, as most witches' gifts do, but your father, ever the naive disbeliever, forbid your grandfather and me from telling you about them; chalking our genuine concern up to dementia and out-dated superstition," Their grandmother said, beginning her long-winded explanation.

   "I've always struggled with keeping your gift a secret because, as a witch myself, I know how important the first years of womanhood are for a witch. Your grandfather, however, understood your father's naivety, explaining to me that it was of no one's fault but our own," Their grandmother continued before Sawyer finally piped up and asked a question.

   "What do you mean?" Sawyer asked causing Luke to scoff.

   "Don't tell me you're seriously buying into all of this. You're not, right?" He questioned aloud while internally questioning both his grandmother's and his sister's sanity.

   "Well," Their grandmother began, ignoring her grandson's doubts, "your father's grandparents, my mother, and father, died while I was a child, so they were never able to inform him; and as for your grandfather's parents, they were just as naive as your father. You see, they too believed that my belief in witchcraft was just the result of my belief in whatever seemingly-absurd, foreign superstitions I had been learned as a child growing up in Holland, so they weren't able to inform him either. This left all the pressure of educating him about my family's history on our shoulders, which wouldn't have been a problem normally, but it was for us."

   "Why's that?" Sawyer asked growing intrigued.

   "Don't entertain this bullshit," Luke warned his sister causing their grandmother to send a glare in his direction.

   "Well, We had planned on waiting to tell your father of the family's hereditary heirloom when he had children of his own rather than when he became of age, this is because we felt that it wasn't important for him to know at that time." Their grandmother explained.

   "Why not?" Sawyer asked causing her brother to roll his eyes out of annoyance.

   "Dear, that was because he's a male and my family's form of the genetic mutation only affected females. Also, because he was an only child with no sisters and because there was never any chance of him meeting his female cousins and aunts from my side of the family seeing as they all lived back in Holland. So, because of this, we held off on telling him and planned to do so for a while, well, that was until your mother told us she was pregnant with your brother, David. You see, we had always planned on telling him when he was expecting his first born, however, we got scared of how he would react and failed to inform him. Although, we were somewhat okay with our failure because we knew, from the sonogram pictures, that your parents were expecting a son. So, we decided that we would hold off a little while longer, just until he had a daughter. We had even gone so far as to plan that we would tell him on our deathbed, should he never have had a daughter, so that he could inform his children before they had any of their own. We were quite content with this plan so we stuck it, and six years later when your mother told us that she was pregnant with you, we had planned to abide by it; however, our fear once again held us back from doing so the night you came into the world. So we never did, and just one short year later, it overpowered us once again, preventing us from informing your parents when your brother was born, that's you, my dearest Dempsy," Their grandmother explained causing Luke to grimace as the sound of his birth-given name.

   "So when did you tell him?" Sawyer inquired.

   "Yeah, and does our mom know about all of your kooky, dutch-folklore-based, wizardry bull?" Luke asked, self-censoring as to not offend his grandmother more than he already had at that point.

   "I told him on the eve of your thirteenth birthday, but by then it was no use. You see, your grandfather and I were already of old age at this point and we had even both been diagnosed with a moderate form of dementia, which is quite common for seniors like myself to have, so you're father rationalized it all to being a figment of your grandfather and I's old minds, which he knew were prone to playing tricks on us and making us believe other forms of foolish nonsense to be the truth, and, thus, chose not to believe us," their grandmother said, responding to Sawyer's question first and then pausing shortly before responding to Luke's, "Also, to answer your brother's question, no, Dempsy, your mother does not know, she was already long gone at that point, as I'm sure you know; and it's not wizardry, dear, its witchcraft."

   "So you admit this witch stuff is both foolish and nonsensical?" Luke asked, referring to how she had said her old brain had made her believe, previously, that 'other forms of foolish nonsense' were true.

   "Of course it is, but it is still the truth nevertheless," Their grandmother replied.

   "If you don't believe me, then take a look for yourself," Their grandmother said, filling the silence that had loomed in the moments preceding her previous reply. She then handed Luke a worn, old book with a leather cover and a shiny gloss painted on the outer ridges of the pages inside, making it appear as if the pages were made of gold when really they were just normal, now faded pieces of paper, as one would discover when they opened it.

   "What's this?" Luke questioned.

   "It's a book, a family heirloom," Their grandmother explained.

   "What does 'puer salutem pythonissam' mean?" Sawyer asked, repeating aloud what was engraved on the front of the old, leather cover.

   "It means 'the life of a young witch' in Latin. This book was your great, great, great grandmother's Book of Shadows, well actually, it was her first one, she had many, each of them have different names that coincide with the contents written within them. She chose to title this one 'The Life of a Young Witch' because it served as her Book of Shadows during the beginning of her life as a witch, which, like with most, began when she was only thirteen," Their grandmother explained.

   "What's a Book of Shadows?" Sawyer asked.

   "Its like a witch's diary and personal spell-book all in one; a place where she can track her time, write of her day-to-day life, take notes on what she learns about the craft, as well as write down new spells, theories, or even tips and tricks that she comes up with during her lifetime," She explained.

   "Dempsy," Their grandmother began before being cut off by Luke.

   "I prefer to go by Luke," He reminded her.

   "Right, well, Lukas," she began once again and Luke grimaced at the sound of his middle name being used in place of the nickname it provided for him, the name Luke, which he always opted to go by over all else, "let Diana," it was now Sawyer's turn to grimace as the sound of her own birth-given name, " read it first, it's more important that she reads it right now, seeing as we need to make up for five years worth of lost time. Oh, and, Diana, please give the book to your brother when you have finished reading it."

   Their grandmother then got up and began to leave the room before suddenly stopping just a bit short and turning around to face the two siblings once again.

   "Neither of you will be going attending for the rest of the week. I'll call the office in the morning and tell them you'll both be staying home due to illness," She told them.

   "Why?" Luke asked as if he wasn't already being forced to miss school due to an actual illness.

   "So that I can teach you all about our family's history and begin to teach you the craft before your father gets home this weekend," Their grandmother explained.

   "You're going to teach it to both of us?" Luke inquired.

   "Yes."

   "Why?"

   "Because although the hereditary gifts only reside within the females of our family, the men being carriers of the gene but not actually honing the gifts, you, Lukas, can still be a witch. You can learn the teachings of the craft, practice them, and eventually become a witch yourself, it will just take you longer to become as powerful as your sister," She explained.

   "How much longer?" He asked.

   "Well, each witch is different, but on average it usually takes non-hereditary male witches ten years to reach the level of power that a hereditary female witch can reach in just over a year. However, you shouldn't lose hope, it shouldn't take you more than a few months to learn, practice, and eventually master essential magik, which is all it takes to be a true witch," Their grandmother explained.

   Their grandmother then sighed before saying, "That'll be enough, for now, my lovelies. The two of you, along with myself should be heading to bed, we'll need our rest for tomorrow, the first lesson tends to be quite challenging for a young witch, it'll certainly take a lot out of you."

   With that, the siblings' grandmother exited the room, going to her own bedroom and beginning to ready herself for bed, leaving the two teens back in Sawyer's room, alone in with their thoughts.

   "I'm gonna go take a melatonin supplement, like hell I'm gonna be able to sleep without one after all the shit she just told us," Luke said as he got up off the bed.

   "You want one?" He asked after making his way towards the exit, now leaning up against the door-frame.

   "No, I'm good, I'm probably not even gonna sleep; I might just stay up and binge-read whatever the fuck our witchy ancestor was up to a couple centuries ago," Sawyer said.

   "Oh, but, dearest Diana, young witch's must get plenty of rest before their first lesson, it can take a lot out of you," Luke said teasingly, mimicking their grandmother and causing Sawyer to laugh.

   "I wouldn't mess with her, you know. She might put hex you," Sawyer teased.

   "Ooh, I'm so scared," Luke replied sarcastically before exiting and walking down the hall towards the narrow, steep staircase, walking down it before making his way to the small closest just outside of their tiny yet quaint kitchen where their father keeps all things medicinal.

   In the meantime, Sawyer changed into her pajamas and turned off her bedroom lights, all except for lamp that sat on her bedside table, which she left on because she planned on using the dull light it admitted to help her read.

   "Goodnight," He called out to his sister as he walked back up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom shortly after taking the tiny, little, white pill that was the melatonin supplement and washing it down with a glass of water.

   "Goodnight," Sawyer replied before making herself comfortable in her bed and beginning to read, spending only a little over an hour reading it before she had dozed off, sleeping soundly with the book cradled in her arms.

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