My Wrath is a Mirror | ONC 2022

Thirteen

After dinner, we bring our drinks into the den and sit before the roaring fireplace. Loren and Tyler carted in an old sofa this morning, one that Tyler's dad had in storage. I plop onto it, sinking into the supple brown leather as Loren drops a gift into my lap. She does the same for Wesley and Tyler before taking her seat in one of the rocking chairs across from me. The three of us open our presents simultaneously, red foil wrapping paper flying.

"What's this?" I ask, pulling out a bracelet woven with different shades of green and gold string. Wesley and Tyler hold up identical ones.

"Consider this a symbol of your official park membership," Loren says, lifting her wrist to show off her own bracelet. "I wanted to get everyone sashes, but I figured you wouldn't wear them everywhere as intended." Wesley laughs and I roll my eyes, grinning at my friend. I immediately go to put it on, but struggle. Wesley takes it from my hands and ties it around my wrist for me, and I do the same for him.

"I love it," I tell everyone, feeling even more connected and emotional than ever. Or maybe it's the wine. Jumping up, I dash to the Christmas tree and pull an armload of gifts out of my bag. Handing one to each of my friends, I chew on my lip and I sit down on the rug before the fireplace to watch them tear into each of their presents.

For Tyler, I gifted the craft whiskey purchased at the whiskey museum when I went last week. For Loren, I bought a 6-month subscription to her favorite Fab Fit Fun box, earning me a chorus of squeals and thank-yous.

When Wesley opens his present, my heart begins to race. I tell myself it's nothing special, just a wallet. But the way his eyes light up when he pulls it out of the box makes my blood sing.

"Do you like it?" I ask him, getting up to sit beside him on the sofa. He runs his fingers over the eight-pointed star sunk into the leather, a perfect match for my necklaces. I watch with baited breath as he unfolds the wallet, revealing the embossed inscription.

Finding you again was like finding a lost treasure.

He looks up at me sharply and my pulse jumps as his eyes bore into mine, asking a question with his intense gaze. I swallow and lean toward him just a fraction.

"You are the treasure," Wesley murmurs, his deep voice thick with emotion. His fingers slip into my hair as he pulls me close and kisses me. It's like a lungful of air after the rain, sweet and heady. His lips are not gentle, but they are not demanding, either. His kiss is the perfect melody of old and new and giving and taking. I grip the front of his shirt and press into him, barely hearing Loren and Tyler's whoops and whistles. Not caring about anything else except how long I've wanted to do this.

After a moment, I release his shirt and Wesley presses his forehead to mine and our audience's cheers come into focus. But I'm not ashamed. I'm barely embarrassed as I give Wesley a sweet peck before getting up to grab another armful of presents and compose myself.

Bringing in another armload, I give the three of them matching faux fur blankets, perfect for cozying up by the fire. I meet Loren's eye as I sit next to Wesley once again, and the look on her face screams that we will be talking about this later. I smile cheekily and press myself to Wesley's side as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and drapes his blanket over both of our legs.

Tyler hands me the present I saw earlier from under the tree—the bottle of wine wrapped in brown paper. At least he tied it with a red ribbon. Actually, that was probably Loren's handiwork. I thank him and pull on the bow, the paper falling away and I'm surprised to see that I've revealed a bottle of honey mead.

"I need some of this right now," I say, moving to get up, but Wesley stops me and takes the bottle from my hand.

"Let me," he says, fingers caressing mine. I smile and nod, and he goes into the kitchen to get a glass.

What he brings back is not only a drink, but a stack of boxes. It takes me a moment to recognize the board games from the upstairs loft. Handing me the drink, he sets the games on the ground and sits on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa between my legs. As I sip my honey mead, nearly moaning at the delicious taste, I run my fingers through his chestnut hair.

We play games well into the night, until our eyelids are heavy and cups are empty. I stand and stretch, leaving Loren laying on the fur rug, her head in Tyler's lap. Padding quietly to the bathroom, I look at my reflection. Aside from my bright blonde hair, my face is always the same as it had been—a mirror image of Kamryn's. As it always does on holidays, the thought of her and it would be like if she were here crosses my mind, but oddly enough, this time the thought doesn't come with pain. Not the heart-wrenching kind like usual. Maybe it's because I'm now surrounded by my friends, the ones who have mended the broken bits of me with their love and friendship. Or maybe it's because now I'm not so angry.

For so long, I've been drowning in my own rage, itching to take my wrath out on this town any chance I got. But now I realize that the only thing my anger had accomplished was tearing myself up on the inside. My wrath is a mirror reflecting harm back at myself. I wasn't the sole person that suffered my twin's loss, but I am the only one who clung to that rage like a vice, and all I got for it was the destruction of the relationships I'd once had. The people and things in this town that I once loved.

I wash my face and brush my teeth, not even bothering to change out of my glittering gold dress. When I walk back into the den, I see Tyler and Loren curled up on the rug beneath my gifted blankets. Tyler tucks a pillow beneath her head and kisses her hair before laying beside her to sleep. I smile softly, turning and climbing up the ladder to the loft where Wesley is pulling back the sheets on the futon. He says nothing as I take his hand and pull him down with me on the bed, but he leans back against the headboard and hands me a small box with a silver bow.

"The cabin was gift enough," I say to him, but he just waves for me to take the box. I lift the lid to find a glinting silver ring nestled in a bed of decorative paper. There is a teardrop shaped sapphire set in the middle of two tiny white diamonds. It is a grown-up version of the promise ring he gave me in high school.  

"Wes," I start, but he silences me with a kiss. He knows I love it, and that I'll wear it, just as he knows my heart, and that it was always his. So as I lay there nestled in the crook of his arm and my ear to his chest, drifting to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat, I have the knowledge that I am no longer like the broken edges of a mirror.

I am whole. I am loved. And I will keep fighting.