A Bride For Us

Beautiful

Something brushed his skin, a faint feeling that caused him to awaken from a weary sleep. He opened his eyes to find a rat scurrying past his legs and into a stall belonging to his mare. Annoyed, he sat upright and ran his hands through his hair. He had barely gotten in two hours of sleep, having spent all night feeling dreadful and remorseful for his actions towards Lily the night before. He knew he needed to apologize, it was the reason for his restlessness and lack of sleep.

Rising to his feet slowly, he fought to keep his vision from blurring up. He stood still for a while and waited for the grounds of the barn to stop spinning before his eyes, before making his way out the doors and into the house. He climbed the stairs, reached their bedroom and pushed the door wide open.

Lily stood with her back to him, struggling with the lace of her corset. It seemed painful, he thought, watching her twist her arms to reach them. Did she go through this much trouble to get dressed every morning? He hadn't given it a thought especially because Rachel never bothered with corsets. For a second, he pitied Lily, knowing fully well that she needed a maid if almost all her dresses needed help to get into, and he couldn't afford one.

He began making his way to her and at the sound of the heels of his shoes making contact with the wooden floors, she turned suddenly, wide eyed. He shook his head and motioned for her to turn back around. When she did, her hands were still twisted to hold the laces. He frowned and gently pushed her hand aside. He took hold of both ends of the lace, having no idea what to do with them, except tie them together. He began tying them, knowing fully well he was doing something wrong. When he was finished, his frown deepened at the incorrectness of his work.

“I am not schooled on the art of corsets.” He reluctantly admitted, fully expecting Lily to laugh at his ignorance.

“There are some holes in the dress...” She tried to touch one. “You need to pass the laces through them in a... Criss-cross manner and tie them together when you get to the bottom. Try to make it perfect and not too tight or I won't be able to breathe.” She gave the instructions effortlessly, almost as if she had been made to do so in the past, perhaps with a maid.

He turned his attention to the laces and followed her instructions. A few seconds later, he was making a bow with them.

“Perfect.” She turned briefly and offered him a strained smile, before walking to the fireplace where she planted herself on the chair and began working to loosen her hair from the messy bun she had made the night before.

He watched her as she worked, her hands working expertly to make a cleaner bun behind her head. 

He tried to refocus his thoughts on his reason for coming here; to apologize. He would apologize to her and smoothen things out. But even as he opened his mouth to speak, the words didn't form. Instead, a thought entered his mind, one that filled him with anxiety; why did it matter whether or not things were smooth between them? Why did it matter enough to deprive him of sleep, to force him to come barging through the back door and up the stairs even before the sun was given the chance to make an appearance in the sky? His heart raced with the questions even as he tried not to answer them. It didn't matter, it was only compulsory that they live as friendly strangers. Yes, they were friendly strangers and nothing more.

Still, he knew this to be false. They weren't strangers any more, he knew her body. He had been too weak to deny himself the pleasure of spending nights with her, until the thought of spending a night away from her had kept him awake until the next morning. He knew her lips, the softness and the warmth of them. He knew the depth of her eyes and had swam in them for many nights. He knew the feel of her hair and every other thing that constituted the woman who was his wife, seated on a chair before him.