At The Gazebo

Chapter 6: On That Fateful Day

Her heart in her throat, she stared at him through glistering eyes. Wasn't this just how it had happened years ago?

Years heretofore—akin to centuries for them— there they stood at their concealed station of union. In another one of such gazebos, they were painfully nearing the dreaded farewell.

Hand in hand they held each other close, shedding the ever not ending tears. Tears, unknown to themselves which'd last for the longest of times.

There was anger that was embedded in them that gild. Anger on their fates?

Oh dear, only after prolonged suffering would they realize that all those indignant tears were akin quenching the ocean's thirst. Alas, they are of no use.

Why, fate is not the one who listens. Oh it is a tortuous mixture of bliss and misery written with such twists and turns that only the immortal could fancy.

When Fate was asked, by someone who had such luck, "Why Fate dear, are you so cruel and harsh on our lives?"

Fate replied with a mischievous little smile, "Say oh mortal, when had I promised otherwise?"

The light from the humble disc of the night appeared to have its shine only for the two reunited. And yes, they had glown in that darkness from a fire of sorts that alighted itself inside their eyes.

Oh, doesn't the past reflect their present tonight?!

It was then—in that past—that they had decided to let go. Let go of each other, let go of their love.

After countless dreary days and sleepless nights, had such a conclusion been accepted in spite of their aching hearts. It dawned to be inevitable. And one knows that hope suffers and makes suffer, in the face of the inevitable foreseen.

Every atom of their being complained and cried, but their conscience could not mind them as there clearly was no other way out.

Lady Gracia had been betrothed to the eldest son of Lord Martin. Her words did not deem important to her elders. Why, was she not meant to be married away one day or the other?

Sometimes, little details of great importance go unnoticed by the elders who bear only good in mind. Oh,  if they could see their subject's mute sufferings and cries. Oh, if their subject opened up as they are meant to.

There, there, some things cannot be opened up. They end up engraved in their enclosure for the rest of their existence.

Both Lady Gracia's father and Lord Martin were people who held supreme power. With their high ranks and influence, they were the ones bowed at in every nook of the country.

This marriage would be the alliance of two great names and powers. A perfect union for all eyes. Troublesome and heartbreaking for but two.

The late Lord Tennyson was an alcoholic and a ruthless gambler. Becoming so after the death of his wife. His health was slowly rotting and so were his pockets from this imprudent means of escape that he had sought.

From a very young age had Christian witnessed this careless show of his father. He swore on his own life to be different from him when grown.

The girl from his neighbouring estate, Gracia, always helped him stay afloat and strong. Noth of them were drawn together inevitably since the first time they had met in their childhood.

The union of Gracia and Christian was not plausible even before the betrothal. Where was Gracia's father and where was the broken Tennyson. They were worlds apart.

Both the lovers had then decided to elope away to Gretna Green to marry. A quiet, peaceful union was planned. After which they would return and face whatever in the privacy of their households.

But that was before the announcement of Garcia's betrothal with another, to the world.

After the betrothal, it was all simply impossible. The whole of England would know of it. Long gone would be peace, long gone the quietude. Their elopement would turn out to be a god forsaken scandal, tarnishing reputations, ruining lives.

It was simply...impossible.

Their union, after that, became but a dream. A dream they had to sadly leave behind forever.

At the Gazebo, on that fateful day of the past, they met for the final time. It was an hour before dawn, the full moon lit the sky, the warm weather danced peasantly and the ivy grown on the forsaken Gazebo hid the lovers just as the fog of the night had attempted to do.

They held each other in a tight embrace, each equally refusing to let go. For, deep inside both knew that this was their last shared moment together. That after this, they shall no longer be each other's. That all too soon all they would have, would be a bittersweet memory of their time together.

Not a word was exchanged between the two at that hour before the dawn. What they felt was far beyond the boundaries of any humanly form of expression. Standing there, with their very eyes, had they seen the paths of their lives diverge asunder. Not even the most eloquent words could've expressed that feeling.

It was then that Christian handed his lover his long worn ring, clasping it in her hands as a reminder of him. And Gracia clasped a sapphire brooch in his. It was supposed to be a wedding day surprise to him. She had so fondly selected it, for the gem had perfectly matched the color of his eyes.

Not that they would have forgotten each other without these exchanges. After all, how can loving and being loved ever be forgotten?

Lifting Gracia's tear stricken face towards his own, Christian had tenderly looked into her eyes and induced her to do the same.

Sobs wracked her body and he cradled her close, suffering too much to do anything else. Securing his grip over her, he made her lean onto him, as he pillared her with an unearthly acquired strength.

His shaking hands held her face. Being only an inch apart, they had longingly closed that distance. It was a kiss of love, of sorrow, of anger and of anguish.

It was a kiss goodbye.

*

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly the hour foretold
Sorrow to this!
~'When We Two Parted' 1817 by Lord Byron