Page 31 of Fractured
The caterer wheels the cake over to the far side of the room. Alexander’s grip on my tummy tightens as I prepare to step out of his embrace. He moves my hair away from my neck with his chin. His whiskers scrape my neck as the lights low, setting the mood for the evening’s festivities.
“One night, Isabella. Can we not have just this one night?” I don’t need him to explain. He’s tired of fighting his thoughts,of struggling with me.
He’s halfway drunk, and he falters on his constant need to control everything. I move his hand gently and step out of his embrace, turning to face him.
His lips are tight, his jaw clenched, his forehead crinkles, and his eyes are a deep gray. I lift my hand and softly run my finger along his brow, following the deep crease as I had longed to do earlier.
He closes his eyes as I trail my finger over his warm skin and lets out a deep breath. He opens his eyes, and they soften further as he takes my hand, cups it on his cheek, and kisses my open palm as he looks at me.
“Just one night, and then you can go back to hating me tomorrow.” His expression imploring me to answer.
I don’t need to add more bricks to the wall around my heart to protect myself from his words anymore. I examine his strained features; he’s so engrossed in his flawed thinking that he doesn’t realize that I am giving him everything he left me with.
He holds his hands up. “Wait. Don’t answer. Just wait here.”
I watch as he heads over to the DJ. He scrolls through his phone and holds it up to the guy. He nods, and Alexander makes his way back to me. He takes my hand and leads me over to the middle of the dance floor. Everyone in the room is watching us. I look at Anna, who is bundled up in Danny’s arms, her back to his chest as he holds her in the dim light of the room.
She smiles at me and gives me the thumbs up. Carlos is smiling, with his arms crossed as he leans against the wall. I look over at Sebastian. He is sitting at the head table, a sad smile on his face. I weakly smile back.
“The bride and groom will have their first dance as a couple. I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Russo,” The room explodesinto applause. The lights dim further and the thump of a spotlight coming on shines down, encircling us. Everyone stops clapping as the strings of a guitar solo break the silence and echo around the room.
The hair rises on my arms, sending chills down my spine as Alexander gathers me close as Sting’s voice cuts the air. Shape of My Heart plays sensually in the background.
I follow his lead as he glides me around the floor. His vanilla scent, mixed with the acidic tang of the wine he drank, assaults me.
I sway with him as we circle round and around the room. I listen to the words as Alexander holds me tight. The swords of a soldier, the weapons of war, diamonds for the money, but that’s not the shape of his heart.
I finally look into his eyes as he guides me backwards into a turn. He can’t say it. He’s not capable of voicing the words he can’t bring himself to admit, never mind say to me.
He will never love me, but he’ll protect me, and give me monetary security, and a home. Love is not something he is capable of. He lets the song say it for him.
He smiles down at me, anticipating I understand what he is struggling to say. I don’t smile back. He wants me to give him more of myself tonight, with nothing in return. I comprehend that he’s exposing himself to me, but is he willing to give me the one thing I need to survive?
My freedom.
Will he try to earn back the hope he ripped away and tossed aside like waste? I’m not willing to take chances with him any longer. He locked me in my room for over a week. He crushed my life in his hands as if it were his to play with, not caring about the destruction he left in its wake.
The song comes to an end and we stare at each other, locked in each other’s arms, both of us battling the unspoken words each of us cannot give the other. He steps back and takes my hand, linking our fingers together, leading me off the dance floor.
The room is silent as we make our way back to our table, taking our seats.
There is no clapping or whistling of approval for us. The atmosphere surrounding this room is thick with astonishment. Alexander has informed an entire room full of people that he will never love me, but I am his to protect.
Alexander moves my chair back as I take my seat, reaching for my glass of wine. Someone coughs and the single sound bounces off the walls. I look out over the dazed faces of our guests, over the rim of my wine glass. The only one smiling at me is his father. He nods his head and puts his arm around his shocked wife.
The music starts up, breaking the stillness, and the guests go back to chatting and drinking. Alexander says nothing, as he leans back, putting his arm on the back of my chair and slides his large hand under my braid to rub in small circles in the middle of my back.
We sit quietly, watching our parents dance. The bridal party dance is next, and my stomach flips, knowing I’ll have to dance with Sebastian. He looked stunned as we took our seats after the bridal dance. He kept looking at Alexander, then back at me. I don’t know if he was waiting for me to cry, or have some sort of reaction to Alexander’s declaration of a loveless marriage to the room.
The music begins, and Christopher comes up and takes my hand. Alexander follows, and he heads over to Anna and takes her hand, leading her to the floor. Her lips are pinched as she looks up at him. She is so tiny in his arms and I smile at her andmouth, “Be nice.”
Christopher only smiles at me as we dance, saying I look lovely as we sway to the music. We all switch partners as the song changes. Sebastian takes me in his arms and says, “Luna.” I smile up at him. “Ronnie.”
He leads me just as gracefully as Alexander did, guiding me around the other couples. My heart breaks a little more. I missed him while I was basically locked away, and I’ll miss him once I’m gone.
“So sad, Luna? What has you looking so glum after my brother’s grand gesture of love?”
His tone is mocking, but there is an undercurrent of truth to his words.
