She sat on the bed, staring out the window at the brown hills that were this barren countryside. “Leave me,” she called to the persistent rapping on her door. She shifted her head slightly to see her reflection in the mirror adorning the wall opposite her.

Her face, though now dry, still displayed the tracks of the tears she had wept. Had she more to cry, they would surely have glistened in the afternoon light that stained the room in oranges and yellows.

“Please,” he called.

She had no need to ask who it was. He had returned. His purpose, she did not know, but he had returned.

Had he come to reprimand her? To chide her for her illogical reasoning? Or was he here to try to sooth her. To explain to her how everything would “be alright.”

Either way she did not want to hear it. She would not admit him. He was not welcome.

And yet, all she wanted was to hear his voice; to see his handsome face. She wanted to feel his arms about her and know that he would not desert her as others had.

She looked to the door.

It was quiet now, but she knew he was there. She could feel him standing on the other side, head down in deliberation. He was sad, this noble man. And she had been the cause. She was the cause. He would not let her see this most obvious pain, but it was there, burning and tormenting his gallant soul.

Her doing. It was her doing and she could not deny it; could blame no one else. He was not at fault. He had done nothing wrong. Merely told the truth.

Though, she had done no less. It was still she who had done the misdeed, however. She was the one to blame for both the lump of stone that now resided within her breast and the torment that had no doubt inhabited his. She, and she alone.

Yet, it was the truth. Nothing more; nothing less.

How could truth be such a foul mistress? The mere word inspired confidence and righteousness. Truth, the symbol of goodness, had laid waste to each of them.

But, had it been the full truth? Or had she merely fooled herself into thinking it so?

She stood slowly from her place on the bed, facing the barren door.

He was there. He was still there. She had to but open it and see him, tell him, that she had been wrong.

But had she? The question nagged her. Had she truly been wrong? Had her heart truly died? And if not, were there any answers to be gained in plumbing its depths?

She sucked in a breath. She knew then that her heart had not been fully replaced by the stone that threatened it, for it beat fiercely in her ears.

She took a tentative step toward the door.

What was she doing?! How could she wish to torment this poor man more? Or herself?

But, there was a chance… Just a chance, that she could make something of this feeling. By the gods there was a chance! She may not have to lose him; to abandon him.

She took a purposeful step toward the door…

She would not abandon him. He had shown the courage to speak the truth. She had merely hidden behind it. Or rather, what she had thought the truth to be.

Another, more determined step…

She was now armed with the full truth, and it was much more powerful than the half-truth she had merely used as a shield against the weight of his pronouncement.

She reached the door.

She would not let him leave her like this. She would not force him to live with such an unbearable pain. She knew the torment it inflicted.

She blinked.

What if he was not there when she opened the door? What then would she do? Would she lose her determination?

And what of he? Had he come to tell her he agreed with her claim? Had he changed his mind?

Her hand, trembling, grasped the doorknob.

She would have to find out when she opened the door. She held her breath and closed her eyes, her racing pulse pounding in her ears.

She felt a light gust of air caress her face and the soft shadow pass over her eyes, knowing them to be the effects of the door opening before of her.

He would be standing there, she assured herself. All she had to do was open her eyes to see his handsome face looking down at her; his beautiful body standing there, arms crossed; a soft smile on his slender lips. All she had to do was open her eyes.

And she did.

Send an Email