Do you have to go?

Chapter 12 (flashback)

Before we were married, before we were pregnant, Porco and I were engaged albeit a short engagement. When I agreed to marry Porco, it felt wrong. I felt as though I was betraying Marcel; it felt as though I was moving on too quickly. We didn't know he was already dead for years at that point; it felt like fresh grief. Not even the same grief that I felt when my grandmother died, I had time to prepare; she was sick for so long. No, this was raw, sudden death grief, a death I foolishly thought I would never have to experience. As an immature teenager, I believed Marcel would come back. I believed that he was eradicating the island devils and that he would hold out for me. But in the end, Porco and I had to make many sacrifices to keep our promises to the memory of Marcel.

After Porco's initial "proposal" for our marriage that early morning on our walk to Liberio, he staged a true proposal. He bought me a simple engagement band and proposed to me beside the Liberio River in front of what was left of our friends and our families. The next few months leading up to our wedding were a whirlwind. Mrs. Galliard consumed herself with making me a dress, and I asked Pieck to be my maid of honor, and my only bridesmaid, given that Annie was gone. 

"I can't wait until the wedding; it is going to be wonderful," she said one day when we were walking home to the internment zone after work one day.

"Oh, you think?" I asked. I had consumed myself with wedding planning to distract myself from the fact that I was giving up on Marcel and, in a stroke of sick irony, marrying his brother.

"My two best friends are getting married in two days. It's a happy occasion, and these days, we need something more certain to look forward to," she said. The crutch clicked on the stone pavers as we returned home from the market. I fidgeted with my engagement ring, the small diamond scratching at the flesh between my fingers. It felt so alien. Being engaged so young felt wrong. "Porco is doing well in Jaw training. We should be glad that Reiner brought back that girl." The mention of the devil that killed my Marcel made me wince. Pieck noticed the cringing in my face. "I'm so sorry. I know what emotions that girl brings up for you." She turned her face away from mine, no doubt also wincing at the comment she had made.

"No, you're right. We should be glad that at least one of them returned, and they brought Marcel's murderer here to face justice," I said, fighting back the tears. The back of my eyes burned at the thought of Marcel's final moments as Reiner had described them. Even in the end, Marcel put others above himself, a concept I wish Porco understood more. We continued our walk. 

I arrived back home, and as I bid Pieck farewell, she made a comment, "I miss him too, and I often wonder if things would have been happier if he came back." But before I could respond, she spun around and hobbled off. I was left shocked, and the grief came over me like a slap in the face. The ring on my left hand felt like lead; my finger was restrained by the heavy shackle that pulled me to the ground. I started to sweat, and my lips stung as if they were actively on fire. The burning memory of Marcel kissing me by the Liberio river melted against my mind, his boyish face twisted in agony as large titan teeth crushed his skull.

Porco found me curled down on my knees on the floor of the foyer. Sobbing into my shawl as the basket of apples and potatoes rolled about the small hall. He didn't say anything; I waited for a snide remark, that classic Porco sarcasm, but nothing. Instead, he knelt down and held me. For years, I lived in their home, my room just feet away from the one he had shared with Marcel. For years we never touched, but now, in the midst of our engagement, I had the first bit of affection from him. He rubbed my shoulders and helped rock me as I sobbed on the floor. He pressed his lips to my forehead, a welcome gesture that I imagined was the only way he felt he could comfort me. He held me to his hard chest where I could hear the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. Slowly mine started to match his and once I had calmed completely, I realized my position. My mind raced between him, his brother's ghost, and myself, dizzying and confusing, my heart was torn and I wanted to sob again but instead, I pushed myself out of his grip and stormed to my room.