Shattered (Watty Awards 2011!)

Chapter 20

AN:

So after a bit of thought, I decided that after this short chapter will come the epilogue. I didn't feel satisfied with the finish I had on Chapter 19, so here it is. Emma's personal thoughts before I close the book.

The epilogue shall be a third person look at the events after.

Well, hope you enjoy!

-Me

Chapter 20

I was quick to discover that talking to Peter was far less of a challenge than facing his mother. She was less than pleased when we stood in front of her, my hand clasped in Peter's feverishly, as though letting go would somehow break in half everything good that had happened recently.

"Mother, Emma and I are getting married." Her face paled, her eyes widened, and her fingers twined together in a frighteningly businesslike manner.

That was around two weeks after that kiss in the rainy park. Life had been blissful since then, even though I had to remain at my own home rather than retain my former job. Peter visited almost every day, and I began to learn more and more about him. I introduced him to my sister, and although she was mildly suspicious at first, his gentle smile won her over quickly. She took his offered hand quite elegantly, and I found myself very proud of Ruth for the first time in a very long time.

Speaking of Ruth, she found a letter from Harry soon after, and had a striking interest in the boyish letter-writer.

I have my hopes.

So, indeed, Harry wrote, explaining things in great detail. Of course, I already knew most of it, thanks to Peter and a certain rainy day, but I appreciated the thought. Harry may be strange, obnoxious and arrogant, but he is also kind and mostly good-hearted.

Peter and I have set the date now. It won't be long before I will walk down the aisle and smile at him standing beside the altar. I can imagine him there, his beautiful eyes and thick, dark hair, waiting to hold my hand. I asked him last week if he would be alright to stand for so long.

"I expect so. I have this," he explained, tapping his cane, "and nothing could make me sit down on my wedding day."

Peter covered my hand with his long piano fingers, and I smiled to myself as I thought on his words.

And then there is the piano.

He took me inside the music room a little after the engagement, and he stood beside me taking deep breaths. I gazed at the beautiful instrument for a moment, taking in the glinting surface and deep red velvet cloth, until I turned to Peter.

"Will you play for me?"

An immense amount of sadness washed over me as he answered.

"I can't." It was a broken-hearted whisper. He slowly raised his wrecked arms ever so slightly to enforce his point.

"Peter, I'm so sorry."

He gave a rending sigh, haggard and broken, and looked up at me.

"It's not your fault, Emma. You have already healed me inside. I don't need a piano or a perfect, untainted body to be happy. Just you."

I realized that a tiny tear had snuck down my cheek, and gently dripped from my chin. "I love you Peter."

He kissed my cheek softly, and squeezed my hand. We stood in happy silence for a minute.

"Emma."

"Yes?"

"Do you play the piano?"

"A little. Some."

His eyes implored, and I sat on the bench obediently. "I will... try and play Für Elise. Do you like that?"

"Oh yes, it's nice." Peter smiled encouragingly, and I settled my fingers on the keys.

As I stumbled through the song, Peter hummed softly, and his fingers slowly tapped out the song on the top of the piano. I felt awkward. I must have appeared as such a naive fool at that moment. But he said nothing during my "performance."

When I finished, he smiled one of his handsome smiles and offered my his hand. Without so much as another glance, we walked out, hand in hand.

Tomorrow I shall be married.