“Yes,” she said without adding anything else.
“What are you doing here tonight?”
“I needed to get out of my house for a while. A friend of mine is having a baby right now, and well, I’m nervous for her.”
“You’re not there with her?” Cassia asked.
“No. Her… husband is, I assume.”
Cassia looked at her quizzically and said, “I see. And do you wish she didn’t have a husband?”
“Pardon?” Iro asked.
Cassia leaned forward and said, “It’s all right. I can tell, but no one else can. Can you not tell the same about me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Cassia stated. “You would be even prettier with shorter hair, though. Your face would be even more striking.”
“Thank you. I should go,” Iro replied and stood.
“I don’t have a husband.”
“Pardon?” Iro repeated.
“Your friend has a husband. I don’t.”
“I’m sorry for you, then,” she lied.
“No, you shouldn’t be. I’ve managed for a long time without one, and I don’t plan on getting one in this lifetime, either. I assume it’s the same for you.”
“I should be going.”
“Iro, she’s married to a man and is having his child; not yours, dear.”
“I’m well aware.”
“You should be with someone you won’t have to share,” Cassia said. “Unless you want to.”
Iro wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so she said nothing. She bowed her head instead, excused herself, and left the pub. It had been a mistake to go there at all. She went home, found her father was still out, and climbed into bed, hoping he’d stay gone all the while thinking of the fact that Mary was probably now a mother.
When Iro woke the next day, she picked a rose from someone’s garden and walked it to Mary’s house, only to see Mary’s parents crying on the street. She knew them, but not well. She and Mary had met through church, but no one knew they’d been in touch much beyond that. Seeing them crying and putting two and two together was how Iro found out that Mary had died during childbirth and that the baby had been lost as well. She dropped the flower on the street, turned, and ran. Iro ran until she couldn’t run anymore, and at some point, sheended up back in front of Mary’s house, feeling like her life was over. Then, Cassia appeared at Iro’s side.
“I can take away all of that pain, if you want,” she said.
Iro swallowed hard at the memory. Cassia had lied, of course. Becoming a vampire hadn’t taken away any of her pain. It had given her immortality and more time to deal with that pain, rather than joining Mary wherever she was in the next life. Iro had been too angry to kill herself after Cassia had turned her, though. She’d also craved blood. Cassia had offered her a way out of her life, and she had meant freedom to Iro. She had meant unbridled passion, and they’d spent the next century together, traversing the globe, fucking everywhere they could, and making love sometimes as well.
Then, Iro had wanted a break from it all. She had asked for it, and Cassia had granted her time apart with the promise of getting back together. Cassia had always called Iro her one true love, but Iro hadn’t ever felt that that was the case on her end. She had fallen in love with Cassia, yes, but Mary had been her one true love. Mary had been sweet and beautiful. Their first kiss had been tentative, and they had laughed. She’d tasted of the sweet custard that they’d had in a tart that they’d shared, and they had lain in a field and made love after that kiss and their laughter. Neither had known what to do, and they had been terrified of getting caught, but they’d had many years together before Mary had been taken from her.
All these centuries later, and Iro still thought of Mary. She still considered Mary her one true love. She’d been with other women since then, of course. The vampire part of her had craved sex more than blood at times. Mostly, that was all they had ever been to her: sex or a brief relationship to pass the time before she would reach back out to Cassia, ready to return to her side, because, in a way, that had always seemed inevitable.
This time felt different somehow. Iro couldn’t explain why. She thought of Mary and whatever life they could’ve had together after the baby if she hadn’t lost her. She thought of their moments before Mary’s wedding and how they’d used to talk to one another about what they would do if they could do anything. Then, she thought of Arwen and how beautiful she was. She was sweet and smelled of soap. After only a few minutes with her, Iro knew she was feeling it again: that pull toward another woman, how she’d been pulled to Mary. She hardly knew anything about Arwen, but as she sat in the back seat, on her way to their date, Iro knew that this mattered, and she didn’t want to waste her opportunity for something great again.
“Maybe I’ve been given a second chance,” she said to herself.
“Ma’am?” her driver asked.
“Sorry. Nothing,” she replied. “I’ll be right back.”
