I bite down and finally taste Maris. The second her blood hits my tongue, fruity with a dash of spice, I know I’m fucked. I moan, arms tightening around her and pull her as close as I can get her.
I’m so unbelievably fucked. Not because I’m going to kill her. No never that. I’d rather stake myself than ever harm her.
But because I’m going to fall in love with Maris. It should be impossible for me, my heart barely beats, but for her it sings. Ilift my head and look down at the sleeping woman in my arms. I cradle her close like she’s precious, made of glass, because to me she is.
“Wife,” I whisper.
Eighteen
MARIS
“Holy fucking shit. It worked.”
I lean in to look at myself in the bathroom mirror and run my fingers along my skin. It’s pink and shiny, like I just did a peel treatment or went ham with an exfoliator brush. There’s not a bruise or cut in sight, my entire face is…is…
“It’s perfect.” I turn my face left then right and take a quick step back from the mirror. My eyes have to be playing tricks on me. The scar I’ve had since fourth grade from getting clipped by the chain holding the tire swing at recess is just gone. I touch my cheeks and then my throat, every imperfection is gone.
“How the fuck do I look like I have a filter on?”
It’s true, I do look like I have a beauty filter on but this isn’t an app, this is real life. No matter which way that I turn my face I look perfect and beautiful. There’s no sign of the girl that got her face beat killing a man and it’s not just my face. My entire body is healed. I’m not sore anymore. I look down at my hands and bite my lip.
My knuckles aren’t split, there’s no bruises from fighting off Brian. It’s like that night never happened. Every little piece of mefeels new. I pull my shirt off and then my pants to give myself a once over.
“What the fuck?”
Every scar is gone, my skin looks flawless. I’d freak out but my birthmarks are all still intact so this is…believable. It’s not like I’m in a whole new body, right? I mean, it feels that way. I haven’t felt this good in years, not since I was the old Maris who was actually human.
I feel alive again.
I lean over the sink and think. “How did he do it?” It’s not like I got abducted by aliens and lost days or weeks or however long it would take for me to completely heal and get a beauty glow up like this. “It was just one night. Just one.”
How can I have changed this much in one night?
I lift my head and look at myself again. My eyes are normal, there’s no bags under them from not sleeping, my cheeks aren’t gaunt and too sharp because I eat like shit. My face is healthy, glowing, I’m fucking rosy-cheeked for crying out loud. I look like a woman who sleeps more than two hours a night. No, fuck that, I look like I sleep a solid ten and eat well-balanced meals, all while drinking water.
“Who are you?” I whisper and push myself away from the sink like I’m scared my reflection is going to move when I don’t and pull me in the mirror to switch places with me. Oh my god.
What if it does?
“Calm down. Calm down the fuck down,” I order myself and take a deep breath. “He’s just a good doctor, like…doctor to the world’s rich and powerful level but he’s just a doctor. He told you it was going to heal in a day and it did. Stop freaking out.”
Even as I talk, I don’t believe myself. Reason and logic demand I acknowledge them but I turn my face away and ignore the fuck out of them as I get into the shower and get started forthe day. It’s only seven am, I’ve got plenty of time to shower and eat breakfast before I go down to the newspaper.
I shower and studiously study how my body looks. Even the scar I got shucking oysters with Billy the summer my life went to shit is gone. I had to get stitches and it looked like a heart on the base of my thumb.
Billy had liked it.“It’s cute. Just like you.”
I’m glad it’s fucking gone. I finish showering, dry my hair, and for once when I try to do it, it doesn’t fight me. It falls in silky waves down my back and shoulders like I spent hours on a blow out. With shaking fingers I put on makeup because why not?
When I’m done, I barely recognize myself. “You look hot,” I tell my reflection. I haven’t looked this good in a very, very long time. Maybe it’s the fact that I look and feel great that I don’t don my usual dark clothes, the ones I put on to fade into the background. No, fuck that. I grab a crimson sweater dress still wrapped in the dry cleaning bag from when I last wore it two years ago and put on a pair of matching slingbacks. The shoes make me stop. They’re Italian leather, supple and soft. A gift from granny from her last Europe trip. I really should wear them more.
I take out a long black wool cashmere coat to complete the look. On my way out the door I even stop to make my bed and grab a pair of hoops to wear as well. I stop at the bottom of the stairs and think. I could make breakfast, or I could get something on the way. I think of Henry and wince. I don’t want to lose my shit and punch someone.
“You won’t,” I tell myself as I pick up my work bag and shove my computer and phone inside. “You’re fine. You’re in control. And what if this is a dream? Just enjoy it.”
It could be a dream and I mostly think I’m right. I do feel in control right now. Not at all like I’m in a waking nightmare thatjust won’t end. If there was a day to get something for breakfast, this is the day.
When I leave my house, everything feels normal. That’s a decent sign this isn’t a dream. I take my time walking into town. I almost drove but decided against it. opting to take the walk to think instead. But instead of thinking, I just sort of…float? It’s hard to explain. Every time I try to think about last night, about how I could have healed like this there’s nothing. The last thing I remember is Julian telling me to keep talking to him as he tucked me into bed. That was nice, having someone there with me as I fell asleep. I think I asked him to stay? Or maybe I didn’t. I know Iwantedhim to stay. Either way, Julian stayed with me but that’s all I got.
