Chapter Three

I walked out into the square, hoping I would run into Aden as I passed. I wasn't as lucky as I had hoped though. The red brick around the tree in the center

of the village stood out against the cold blue sky.

"Sita!"

I turned sharply at the sound of my name.

"Allie." I said dumbly. "What is it?" Allie was about thirteen with medium-long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had freckles and always wore a dirty

dress with grass stains—evidence of romping around in the dirt with the young boys.

"You have to hurry," she said out of breath.

Without question I raced after her. My feet couldn't keep up as she twisted and turned this way and that through the alleys and walk ways. By the time we

reached the destination, I felt like I had just run a race against the young boys who held running competitions each year. It was part of becoming a man.

I wasn't a man though.

We came to a stop in front of Delia's house. I instantly clammed up. What were we doing here? Had something happened to Aden? Was this a prank?

"C'mon." Allie led me into the house without a moment's hesitation.

"Uh. . . Allie? Don't you think we should knock first?"

"Nonsense," she giggled. "I live here."

Sweat broke out on my forehead as we entered, "Since when?"

"Delia took me in after Pop died last month."

Why hadn't I heard about it? Were they really that detached from village gossip?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

She shrugged, "It's no big deal." Her hands clasped the handle, "Besides, I'm okay now. I don't have to worry about him anymore. Everything is okay."

I wasn't so sure she was convinced, but I let it go as we stepped into the kitchen. "Delia is waiting." She said pointing to the sitting room. I cautiously

approached. A fire had been lit in the fireplace and the warmth set my insides at ease. Perhaps this was an emergency.

Sitting in a hard backed chair, reading a book, was Delia. When she caught sight of me, she smiled. "Ah, you have made it safely I see." Her white teeth

gleamed.

Delia was a few years ahead of me and roughly the same age as Aden—only two months younger I think. She had dark ginger curls and pale blue eyes that

glistened from the fire blazing in the hearth. Her smile was ruthlessly cruel, even though she tried to hide it. A knot twisted in my stomach; I looked away

trying to forget that she used to be someone else completely. That person she once was would never resurface.

"Yes," I drew out slowly. "Allie came to me in a panic, so I followed." My gaze traveled over the length of the room and took in each detail. She was a town

seamstress, now that she was providing for not only herself but little Allie as well. There were tall wooden shelves along each wall and numerous books and

baskets full of threads, all varying in color.

The chair she had been sitting in was furbished with an unusual cloth of golden beige and had strange looking arms and intricately carved designs into it's'

frame.

"I see," she raked her fingers through her ginger waves before glancing into the fireplace. "He isn't doing so well." Delia said at last with a sigh. Instantly my

throat caught.

"He . . . ?" I questioned uncertainly.

"Aden has been staying with me now and then. He came last night and it came to my attention he was not well. I had Allie search for you, but you were not

home. So I had her go again this morning."

My head began to spin. He came over here last night . . . . That could only mean one thing: they were involved with one another. Fear clenched my heart.

Why had I let this come to be? Why had I followed Allie? I could have stayed home, or gone to the old church and prayed or done anything but come here to

hear this unbearably painful news.

"You are the only one I know who can cure him," Delia said humbly. "Please, will you help him?"

Her strained, worried manner frightened me only slightly. She never asked favors of anyone . . . not since the funeral. For her to ask me of my services was

almost too shocking to stand. Then there was the concern about Aden.

She had no idea that he and I had once been arranged. Why did that knowledge somehow give me a fleeting hope that he would return to me upon seeing

my face?

"Yes," I sighed gently. "I can cure him if he's not too advanced in the sickness. Where is he?"

Allie appeared behind a corner, her face down trodden and sad. Delia gently pushed her aside and led me into a back room where the air was much cooler

and completely in shadows. I pinched my nose as the smell of humid air and sickness hung along the walls. She lit a small candle and beckoned me to follow.

Even with the light it was difficult for me to see. We reached a room at the end of a small hall.

Making my way inside, I took note of everything. There were shelves of books on two walls and a desk with sewing refineries. The bed was large and

spacious, taking up most of the room. The only other thing inside was a chest of drawers that held clothes.

On the bed, smothered in blankets, was Aden. His eyes were lightly closed, indicating he was in a light state of sleep. I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying

to hide my fearful expression. He looked worse than I had imagined. Pale and weak looking, Aden wheezed with each breath he took.

"Is he alright?" Delia asked, dire concern marking her tone.

Snapping out of my fearful state, I looked at Delia with new light. I could be alone with him and help him get better, if his body allowed. He could emerge

from this sickness with new feelings for me. We could once again be arranged to wed. If . . . only . . . . But that was just a dream. I shook the thoughts away.

Keep it together now, I silently reassured myself.

"Yes," I said, hiding my fear. I had to be strong. "Allie," Forcing a smile, I searched behind me for the child. "Can you get me the herbs from my home? They

should be in my basket near the fireplace. There's a ribbon on the base of the handle."

She nodded and ran off to carry out her new errand. To Delia I said, "Please, let me alone with him so I can determine his state and the herbs necessary to

heal him."

Delia cast me a curious, suspicious look before venturing back to her sitting room and her book. Please don't think ill of me, I silently prayed.

The candle she had given me was on the desk beside the table. I lovingly gazed at him as he slept. Old memories once again played in front of my eyes.

"We can marry," Aden said laughing. "You are almost of age, you know?"

I smiled. He was getting way too worked up over this.

"Just think, once you are fifteen, you can leave this place," he intoned. "We can leave this place and make ourselves a new home in the country, away from

prying eyes and such. No more townspeople to tell us we should behave or obey certain rules and such. We can build our own cottage near a lake and go

swimming and climb the mountains that are nearby." He teased me by twirling a strand of my hair.

A breeze picked up and ruffled his hair, making a few strands shadow his eyes. The grass we were laying on belonged to a small meadow within the forest

out-skirting the town. Off to the right of where we were; a small stream lazily flowed out of the cover of the trees to the shallow pool at our feet. Birds sang

in the overlying branches of the trees. My heart skipped a beat as Aden's hand tipped my chin up, making our eyes level.

"We can do so many new and exciting things as husband and wife." He took my cheek in his hand and kissed me. Something in my stomach fluttered as his

hand traced to my neck and then down towards my stomach.

Each time we kissed, a new emotion seemed to boil to the surface, threatening to take me captive and drag me under. I felt like a child drunk on fresh

summer wine. His fingertips playfully pulled on the lace strings on the bodice of my dress. I blushed as his eyes hungrily ravaged my body, while his hands

remained immobile at my stomach. It was one thing to think thoughts of being married, another to carry them out. I knew Aden would never try to hurt me

nor try to force me against my will to satisfy his pleasures.

He leaned over me and our lips met for the briefest of moments, his breath warm and sweet. I relished every moment, placing my arms around his neck.

"Mmm . . . Aden," I said pulling away, trying to hide my contagious smile. "I think we could start our own family here, where we are safe from the wolves of

the wilderness." I had not meant it to sound so offending, but Aden did not understand my reasoning.

He drew back, a frown on his face. "Do you not think I am capable to protect my own family?"

"No," I said hastily. "That's not what I meant at all." My heart raced as he studied me, seeing if I was lying or not. "I just want you all to myself for the rest of

our lives. If something were to happen to you . . . ." I trailed off, sadness creeping into my heart.

"Listen, I will not allow anyone in our family to suffer because of our environment. We will all be safe." He said confidently, his hand touching the blade on his

belt. I nodded, hoping to change the subject to something more cheerful. He hugged me then, his embrace almost desperate to keep me there, to keep me

safe.

I knew he would never let anything happen to me, nor our family, but still, I couldn't help but wonder what would become of us if we ventured away from

everyone else and were not able to defend ourselves from intruders. If something were to happen to him, how would I protect myself and the children?

These were all worries I deemed to put on hold until our wedding day came. For now, I must worry about the present and about the upcoming wedding.

I also knew that if I worried too much, I could create a problem within the relationship and lose Aden in the process. I wouldn't let myself get in the way of

something as beautiful as our vow to always be together. I had to stop worrying and learn to let things go. But deep down I was scared that if I started to

do that, then I would eventually learn to let Aden go as well.

Aden woke up well near dusk. By then, Allie had returned with my basket of healing herbs. I had Delia boil a pot of water over the fire and drop a mixture in

to keep her busy. I also got a cloth and a pail of warm water to put over his forehead.

When he saw me, he began to shiver and tremble. I acted as if I did not notice. He might as well feel embarrassed. He did, after all, make vows for me and

then . . . . Well, I didn't want to think about it.

Glancing towards the door, Aden lifted his hand out from the blankets and coughed, shielding his mouth with the other. I knew instantly what he wanted me

to do. His gaze had fallen on the door. He is afraid of her overhearing us.

I fluidly went to the door and quietly closed it, careful not to make a sound. Upon resuming my sitting position on the bed's corner, I waited for him to speak.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

I refused to meet his eyes, determined not to cry. I was, presently, not only angry at him, but also at myself. I was angry because I had let my emotions

surface for the briefest of seconds without a moment's notice when I learned he was here. I had let myself give in to womanly fears and emotions. How could

I have let myself into such an ordeal? Things such as these had made me a fool all those years ago, and yet here they were, back again; a painful reminder

of our past.

"Three years have since then passed and yet you say this?" I said emotionlessly.

I felt the bed still as he held his breath. The air became thick as my words echoed silently in the room. I could hear them in my mind as well, vibrating and

bumping along, sounding so foreign and menacing that it hurt.

"Three years," he said at last. "I did not expect it to have been so long." The way he talked made him sound so much older than he was. He was acting the

fool and he knew it. We both knew he was acting like a stranger.

"I did not wish you to leave," I started, but found it hard to finish. "And yet you still did . . . without a care who you left behind."

Pain, fresh and vibrant, filled my heart. How could I have allowed myself to come here? I should have stayed home upon hearing of his return, but I chose

not to. I thought I could get him alone, perhaps talk to him as I once did. I thought he would still care for me . . . still want to hold me and comfort me. But . . .

but I was wrong. It was I who had to comfort him. It was the worst time for me to comfort someone with these new unpleasant memories floating about my

head like poison.

"That's not entirely true."

"Then what is?" I faced him then, a large lock of hair falling over my shoulder. Pain was replaced by anger. Would he tell me that it had been for a just cause?

That he had only gone to find a place for us to live? What would he say if he knew the feelings I had to bear? The humiliation was more than enough for me,

let alone the pity I received.

"People don't look at me the same way anymore. They call me the 'Abandoned Bride'. Men won't talk to me because they think I'm cursed. Older women think

I'm a witch who tried to kill you and that is why you left." A silent tear fell.

His eyes widened in the dim candle light; his mouth parted the slightest. He sat up, desperately trying not to feel the physical pain his body was enduring. I

backed off the bed, feeling my cheeks flush with heat.

"I wanted to come back right away, but I couldn't." he shook his head, trying to rid the horrible feelings coursing through his blood. "I wanted to . . . no, I

yearned, for you."

"You didn't have to leave."

"I had to," he said in a whisper.

"Why?"

He didn't answer. Instead I was greeted by a scary sight. His eyes were so wide he looked spooked. It was if a ghost had sprung up and grabbed him by the

throat, all the while insulting him and cursing him for his evil deeds. His hands fumbled for the candle, but missed, knocking it off the stand. I went for it, but

missed and watched as the hot wax spilled upon the cold floor and snuffed out the flame. Picking it up, I sighed and tossed my head over my shoulder to

watch him.

I had never seen Aden so desperate in my life, nor so weak.

"I guess I know then." I said rising. His head jerked up towards me. "You will never hold me up as the most important thing in your life. I will never be first." I

set the candle and its stand on the table and walked to the other side of the bed, my heart aching.

I should not have said that because the next thing I knew, he had thrown the blankets off him—while grimacing in pain—in one sweep and held me in his

arms in the next. Stunned, I stood there, frozen and numb.

"I will never put you under me again." He breathed into my ear.

All I could do was nod. I was too shocked to move, but when a light tap on the door and then the sound of it opening behind me was heard, he jumped back

and sheepishly gazed at me in wonder. Then, he fell. He was still too weak and his hurried movements to embrace me were in vain, for he had barely had

the energy.

I had just regained my balance when his knees gave way and I saw everything in slow motion. My hands reached out to grab him, but it was Delia who

caught him.

"Well, you are finally up." Delia said looking at me accusingly. She went to look at him, a smile playfully tugging on her lips.

"I'm so glad."

She turned to me, "The herbs are ready I believe."

"Yes, I shall attend them at once." I left them alone, but not before tossing one last look behind my shoulder at Aden as Delia helped him back into bed.

"You shouldn't be so anxious to walk; you could have hurt yourself and made things worse." She said grimly. His eyes met mine as I turned back; and they

said all I needed to know. He had regretted leaving me and pushing me below his other priorities and now he was suffering for it. He knew that the only way

to atone for it was by making it up to me or by simply taking me back and arranging our previous plans of marriage.

But I, as much as I hated to admit it, was slowly beginning to realize he was no longer the man I had fallen so desperately in love with. No, he had become a

man I learned to hate and yell at because of his foolish ways and ideas. Delia wants him, well, she can have him, I thought angrily. Because there is no way on

God's green earth that I will marry him after everything he has put me through.

After mixing the herbs more thoroughly, I poured out the liquid into a bowl and prepared it for Aden, hoping against hope that I would not ruin anyone's life

that night, nor any other night. As much as I hated Delia, I did not want to see her suffer because Aden was planning on coming back to me. I could already

see it in his eyes.

Placing the bowl on the table, I steadied myself as I tried to forget the anger inside my hollow shell of a heart. Who was I kidding? I could not love anyone

anymore. He was better off with Delia. She, at least, could love him and take care of him. She could provide him the happiness he deserved. And I . . . I could

no longer give those things. Not after all the pain I had put him through as well as all the pain he had put me through. It was too many memories to handle

just then.

Taking hold of the necklace on my neck, I silently prayed God would hear me as I went my separate way. This man was no longer the one for me. I had to

look elsewhere or let God hand him to me. It was one or the other, and I was betting on the latter rather than the former.

To the reader: Hello everyone, so i haven't officially decided if I should continue or not. I haven't received much feedback on what you think, so please, let me know if you want me to continue. i really would love to hear your input. Thanks!

-S.W.