Psyche and Eros

First Weeks

A few weeks pass of gradually growing conversations. They are mostly only revealing details about myself. My family, parents, sisters. Embarrassing childhood stories even got brought up. We discussed when he saw me out in the garden of my house too before we met, putting my suspicion to rest that I did indeed hear his wings flutter that day.

I also start tending to garden beyond cooking. Though, I do not care to partake in the cleaning part. I'm glad it appears I'll never have to. 

On the third day, my husband-to-be brought me home a horse, whom I have affectionately been calling Coralia, to remind me of my sisters. Then an unnamed peacock, of all things. A pet dog next, named Leon. All of which I have enjoyed caring for, but they each serve their own purpose. I suppose, he was just testing out what kind of animal person I was. At least now I get to go for rides, cuddle on the bed with my dog and play fetch down the long hallways...even though I shouldn't. I've only broken a few vases in the process. As for the peacock, I'm still trying to figure him out. I mostly just sit in the garden and stare at it, tossing little treats its way now and again. 

Aside from talking, there hasn't been any other contact between us lately. I'm not sure when it will feel right...but gifts or not, I feel comfortable around him now. His sudden presence doesn't always make me jump. I welcome it and look forward to his arrival every night. 

Today, I feel like putting out a feeler for how we are progressing.

I've grown tired of making soups, and moved onto other dishes and homemade breads...which have been challenging. They are still a tad too stiff for my liking. Sometimes even too sugary or salty. It's as if I have no sense of measurement at all.

Though, I think the bread I've made along with tonight's dinner is my best.

We'll let him be the judge.

"Evening, Psyche." He arrives a little later than usual. The bread is no longer steaming.

I don't mean to frown but he notices. "My apologies, I didn't mean to be so late. I ended up speaking with my father."

I perk up immediately. "That's wonderful."

He chuckles. "Why do you say that?"

I pause, taking a seat while he sets the table for me, as per our now usual routine. "Well, you've never mentioned him before. Sounds like a reunion of some sort."

He sits with a sigh. "Well, you're not far off. He's not often around."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is that changing?" I ask sympathetically. As conflicted as I feel about my own parents, they were always there as I grew up. Especially my father, overseeing every part of my upbringing. 

"Likely not. Though, I asked for his advice on something...and I think it was a good talk." He answers biting into the bread. "Mmm, think you're mastering it."

I slightly smile but am not distracted from the topic. "Advice on...?"

I like to think he's smiling. "Ah. Well, of course it was about you."

I smirk. "I am flattered." 

He's silent then. I try not to be bothered with the unanswered response. Of course, that silence brings forth another question. One that I need to blurt out but am not sure how to. 

"What's on your mind, love?" He asks gently. 

"Uh...that statue in the back garden." I start nervously. He called me love. 

"What about it?"

I clear my throat. "Is she your mother?" Silence. So very tense silence follows. It makes me continue to speak. 

"...What led you to that conclusion?" He speaks tentatively. 

"Well, I didn't recognize her, " I start, "So I thought that was the most logical and worthy choice of a statue in your backyard."

"Oh...right." He answers. 

Is he unnerved I am bringing this up? Is she a sensitive subject. 

"Well, I think it's a very sweet gesture. She must be very lucky to have a son like you." I hope this is some consolation. 

He makes a sound of reluctant agreement. "Hmm, perhaps." 

"Oh, come on! You are too charming to not have a proud mother." It's this phrase this seems to push things too far. He doesn't answer me. 

It is indeed a sore subject. 

"Sorry...I didn't mean to venture where I shouldn't have." I apologize. 

"Please. Don't stress yourself about it. Would you like to tell me about your day instead?" He attempts to turn the conversation around. 

I frown slightly. "Not...particularly. I am driving myself insane. I am consumed with how curious I am becoming about you. The truth about who you are is all I can think about...it's far more interesting that describing how long I assaulted that bread dough until I got it perfect." 

He sighs. "I know...I understand how it must be for you. Stuck. Without...a true prospective husband." 

"Well, you aren't technically my husband yet." I add without thinking. 

"We...can fix that." He says, toying with the idea out loud. "If you are agreeable to." 

I look down, shifting in my chair. Is there much point in waiting? I still don't know very much about him. 

"It's alright if you want to give me your thoughts. You can talk to me." He continues. 

Now isn't that a sweet and generous unnerving thought. 

I do want to speak to him. So far, over the past while I have come to be quite comfortable with him. Not comfortable enough to be so open about the future. On the other hand, I've told him quite a bit about myself and my past. Enough to fairly say I've told him more about my thoughts than my own sisters...not that we were incredibly close. 

He listened to every word of it. How would he react to me openly speaking about how I feel and what I think about him? Would he be so understanding if I say the wrong thing to offend him?

Well...maybe not. Still, what do I have to lose? 

"I like you. I just...don't know what I should be doing in this situation. I could marry you but the main motivation to do that right now...would just be something to do. I'm still getting to know you." I say, truthfully, now unable to look up. "I always dreamed of my wedding when I was a little girl. Mainly because I knew that was inevitable for me. Growing up, it was not only an expectation, but an honour to marry and make my family proud...now I know that marriage is not at all what would bring my family joy. Everything I thought I knew is gone, and I have no idea what the point of marrying is anymore. I wasn't taught it was supposed to be for my own happiness. My own joy." 

"I hope to bring you joy..." He whispers sadly. Still, he stops for me to continue. "That would be the point." 

I nod. "I appreciate that you think that. I just have to catch up...I think." 

We pause again. I can feel his sympathy in the air. That I am feeling this sense of misdirection. No concept of what our marriage could be. How it could benefit me with the outlook of things. My family duties are over. I won't be parading my husband around, having the lavish wedding I was promised as a little girl. The life of a princess set out for me was easy...it was easier to not have to decide anything else. 

I want to say all of that, but I'm just not ready to. Instead I say something a lot more simplistic. "I imagined the wedding I would have. With friends and family...I thought it would be the best thing in the world to make them proud..." I pause, hating that I have to emphasize it any more than I already have. "I never pictured not being able to see my husband waiting for me at the end of the aisle." 

He sets down his plate rather abruptly. It clangs more than he intended.

"I don't know if we can be married if you can't trust me to know who you are. Who could possibly want to harm me for knowing? Who wouldn't you be able to protect me from?" I speak gently but firmly. 

I want to understand...I just can't fill in the blanks for him. "I need some answers. Just give me anything."