I grab her some water from the cooler behind the bar, which she accepts with a grateful smile.
“Your preferred drink of choice.”
I wink as I set my bottle of cool beer on the table beside the seat next to hers.
“What kind of movies do you like?”
“I don’t know.”
Her response causes me to hold the remote as if frozen.
“Well, what do you usually watch?”
“I don’t.”
Her sad smile ties my stomach in knots as I say carefully, “You mean you’ve never watched a movie.”
“Unless you count educational ones, then no, I haven’t.”
“What about kids’ programs or reality trash?”
“Not that I can remember.”
She shrugs, placing a forkful of food into her mouth, her face blushing under my scrutiny.
“What about games? Did you play them?”
“No.” She shakes her head miserably. “Anything competitive wasn’t allowed.”
“What was allowed?” I’m beginning to form a bleak picture of Rose’s childhood, and it breaks my heart.
“Music, study and reading.”
“Reading is good.”
She pulls a face. “Not the books we read. They were hard going and factual rather than fanciful. You see, Julius–”
She sighs as she pushes her plate to the side.
“Our father considered that the world was corrupt, and that began in filling our heads with fiction. He believed that it painted a view of reality that clouded the true nature of living. He dealt in facts, not fiction, and we were encouraged to learn rather than dream. Morgan, of course, loved the idea of that and reinforced his wishes at every opportunity. We were tested daily on what we were reading, any pictures we painted or sketched, and any needlework we created. Everything was criticized rather than encouraged, and sowhen she announced we were to attend boarding school when our father died, we couldn’t have been happier.”
“I’m not surprised.”
My knives are sharpening for Morgan Sorcusi and Rose says sadly, “It merely followed us. It was as if we were wearing black at an all-white party, standing out from the crowd, courtesy of our lack of knowledge of life. We were considered freaks and treated that way, and for some reason the teachers were the worst. If anything, life got harder at Canton House, and so we decided to make a break and head to a place where we could be free.
“I don’t pretend to understand what you went through, but I can assure you of one thing now, baby girl.”
I fix her with a sincere smile. “You are free now. You are my wife, and I won’t pretend it will be easy, and in many ways, it is an extension of your childhood, but I promise to make your life with me a happy one.”
“It already is.” Her soft smile spears my heart and shatters it because Rose’s pain is now mine, and when I am hurt, I fight back—harder.
I turn to the screen and select a romantic comedy, which is not my usual choice of movie, but it’s not about me anymore. Rose deserves the fairytale, so call me her fairy godfather because if I do anything worthwhile in my life, it’s keeping that smile on her face.
One movie turns to two,and we share an easy silenceand as we laugh along with the characters on the screen, Rose relaxes, and her happy smile is all I require.
However, my mind is not so relaxed as I plan one woman’s painful demise and my thoughts turn to herrequest to meet up with Rose. I decided not to agree; Rose isn’t ready to meet her yet. I want her to be strong and to have courage because I’m guessing that Morgan is a worthy opponent, whereas Rose is still an apprentice to the trade.
The next morningbegins early for me, and I leave Rose sleeping after the best night’s sleep of my life. The fact we are home had a lot to do with that, but it was also holding her soft body against mine, loving her small sighs and the scent of my woman beside me. She will always be beside me, never anyone else. Not now, not ever, and it’s my job to make her want to stay.
