A Dove's Tale

Chapter 134

The candles had flickered out, and the only dim lighting came from the shreds of sunlight filtered through heavy clouds, falling rain, and panes of glass. It was enough to illuminate the white rose that had adorned my hair, lying on the coffee table beside a pile of hairpins and empty dishes, and it was enough for Chevalier and me, cuddling on the sofa in silence. I had my legs tucked up beside me as I snuggled into his side, and he combed his fingers through my hair, working the waves left by the updo out with each stroke.

We hadn't spoken for a while now. Not since I sobered up enough to realize how much I'd embarrassed myself. Chevalier had reassured me I'd done nothing wrong, and I'd been more tipsy than drunk, but I felt my cheeks warm all over again when I remembered the way I'd clung to him in front of everyone. At least I'd avoided a hangover thanks to his insistence that I drink water and eat - both before and after he kissed me senseless.

Drunk, tipsy, or sober, that had been fun.

But now, watching the rain falling steadily outside, following the rivulets tracing down the windows with my eyes, I felt a dull ache in my chest. I knew this familiar throbbing pain. It came whenever I thought of Mother, and I always thought of her when it rained.

She loved the rain.

Chevalier kissed the top of my head. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

I nodded. His hand found mine on his lap and squeezed it as the memories came trickling in, like the tiny streams that used to work their way under the door and walls of my old house and turn the dirt floor to mud. She used to sit on that muddy floor, holding me on her lap in the open doorway when I was just a young child stricken with terror by every roll of thunder. I'd clutch her dress and hide my face in her chest, and her gentle reassurances would wash over me, as soft and soothing as her humming, weaving in and out of the pitter-patter of raindrops and low grumbles of distant thunder as she stroked my hair. The fear couldn't stay when she did that.

The fear couldn't stay when I was with Chevalier, either. Not since the first time he held me after Jack's assault and promised he'd never allow that man to touch me again.

Mother should be here. She wanted this for me. She wanted me to find love, she wanted me to be safe, and she wanted somebody to take care of me after she passed away. That was her biggest concern at the end. Taking care of me.

And she wasn't here to see her dream for me come true.

I wished she were here.

Chevalier's hand left mine to brush across my cheeks. His fingers came away wet.

"Sorry. I don't mean to cry," I said, raising my hand to wipe my cheeks dry, but he caught my wrist and leaned in to kiss the corner of my eye. I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes, and he kissed my cheek, once, twice, releasing my wrist on the third kiss to free his fingers to slide under my chin and tilt my face up. My hand went to the back of his neck, curling into the stiff white fabric of his jacket collar as he continued kissing my tears away. His lips tasted salty when they found mine at last.

The kiss was short, chaste, and everything I needed.

Our breaths mingled as our lips parted. He rested his forehead against mine, his pale blonde eyelashes and crystal blue eyes close and comforting, and his hand slid around to the side of my neck.

"Don't apologize," he murmured, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "It is only natural you would think of her today."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and, when I opened them again, I gave him a small smile. "She used to tell people if it rained on their wedding day, that was a blessing from God, because rain brings new life. I guess...no, I know she'd be smiling if she were here."