Dark Corners READY FOR PRC (44 page)

I sighed and I tried to think of something to tell him that would make sense.

“We were going abroad to search for your missing mother, Krista Mangum,” I paused again for any sign of recognition, but not even a flicker passed.  “My parents didn’t want us to go away together for that long, being in a situation where we might be tempted to do things we shouldn’t.”

“So they had us get married?”  The skepticism returned to his face.

“Well, we were actually already engaged and planning on getting married in September.  It was a matter of moving up the date a few months,” I replied trying to sound nonchalant, as if this whole conversation wasn’t making me extremely nervous.

His glance moved over me before he spoke.

“So you're saying we'd never been intimate before then?” he asked me point blank.

“No, we hadn’t. And that was your idea, not mine.” I told him.

“My idea?” he laughed, and his gazed raked over me again.  I could plainly see the disbelief written on his face.  “Now
that
is hard for me to believe.”

I felt the blush creeping over me, my body reacting instantly to him.

“Well, it’s true,” I said, turning away from him, trying to cover my physical response to his appraisal.

He surprised me when he reached out, grabbing my arm and yanking me back to face him.

“And what about after this so-called marriage?” he asked, staring into my eyes with a searching gaze.

“What do you mean?” I swallowed thickly, trembling at his rough touch.

“You know what I mean,” he replied.  “What was this physical relationship like after the marriage?”

It hurt my heart that he didn’t remember, and pinched even more because I could tell he was trying to mock me.  He didn’t believe me and it made me a little angry with him.

I brazenly took a step toward him, so our bodies were nearly touching.  “It was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life,” I answered, throwing it back in his face.  Something changed in his look and he released me, stepping away, but he continued his hard stare.

“I’m not that person anymore,” he said bluntly.

“Yes, you are.  You just don’t remember,” I replied indignantly, the tears welled up in my eyes.

He moved angrily toward me until he was right up next to my face.  “Look … Portia, was it?  I don’t know you or your life, and I certainly don’t care about it.  Why should I?  For all I know you could be some silly little girl out to take advantage of the situation, trying to fulfill some strange fantasy.  What proof do you have that any of this is true?”

“How about this?” I said, lifting my hand up and shoving it into his face to show him my wedding ring.  “If you will check your hand you'll see the mate to this set.  If that isn’t enough proof then feel free to take it off and have a good look at where our names are inscribed together on the inside.  And the tuxedo you're wearing?  You wore it to our wedding.  I have the pictures to prove it, if you would care to see them.”

He glanced down, noticing the ring on his finger for the first time.  He pulled it off as I’d suggested and used a flame to read the inscription out loud.

“Vance and Portia forever, huh?”

“That’s right,” I challenged.

“Well, apparently forever didn’t last very long for you, did it?” he said with callous indifference, though he slipped the ring back on.

I took a step away from him, letting the tears stream freely, the hurt being more than I could stand.  “You know what?  You're right.  You aren’t my Vance.  My Vance would never be so intentionally cruel.”  I turned away and began walking briskly back toward the cemetery gates, where I’d left the motorcycle.

He caught up with me quickly, matching my pace stride for stride.  He ran a hand through his hair, giving a grunt of frustration.  “Listen, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what's going on and I’m confused.  I’m baiting you with my irritation,” he said, somewhat apologetic.

I didn’t answer him and I kept walking, the tears still flowing.

“Hey.  Are you deaf?” he continued.  “I said I was sorry if I offended you.”

I stopped cold and turned to face him.

“Sorry if you offended me?  Really?  Let me shed some light on the subject for you, Vance,” I yelled at him, my anger flaring.  “I just spent the last few days, watching my husband, who I love more than anything in this world, get murdered in front of me!  Then, afterward, I held his dead body in my lap while we drove back to where we were staying. I got to sit with those remains while they were shipped back from Scotland on an airplane where I had tortured dreams of how he was calling to me for help.  After that, I planned his funeral and watched him get buried under a mound of dirt.  Being parted that way was excruciating!  Even in death I couldn’t stand to be away, so I came here tonight and I found you standing at the foot of his grave.”  I poked him hard in the chest.

“Think what you want, but YOU ARE HIM!  I've already been through hell because of you, and I don’t need you or your pompous attitude to add to it!”  I turned and stormed off again, leaving him behind.

“Wait!” he called after me.  I stopped, taking a deep breath trying to calm myself.

“What?” I asked, turning back around.

He eyed me nervously for a second.

“Take me with you,” he said abruptly.

“Excuse me?” I replied with an incredulous glance, not believing what I was hearing after his previous insults.

“Take me with you,” he said again, moving a step toward me.   He gazed around the cemetery, before coming back to settle on my face.  “Look, I don’t have anywhere else I can go.  If you’ll take me with you, I'll listen to your stories and you can show me your pictures.  I’m not going to promise you anything, but I will listen.”  He seemed sincere.

My heart jumped a little at his request, but I knew there were other factors involved he might not be prepared for.

“Our family will be there,” I told him, continuing to watch him with a wary eye.  “They're going to remember you too.  Do you think you'll be able to handle that?”

He thought things over for a moment, sliding his hand into the pockets of his tux.  He stared down at the ground, rubbing the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

“Will me showing up freak them all out?” he asked after a minute of consideration.

“Everyone except my mom is magical, they'll deal with the shock okay.  But they do love you and they're going to be excited to see you,” I said with a shrug.

He considered this before he spoke again.  “I'll do my best to be civil,” he replied with a nod.  “You have to know this is all really weird for me.”

“I understand,” I said, taking a step back toward him.  “And I’m trying to be sympathetic, but you're making it difficult for me too.”

He acknowledged my point with a slight nod of his head.  “So what do you say to forming a truce?” he asked, and the grin I loved so much spread out across his face.

He had no idea how much I wished I could kiss him right now.  My mind was swirling with more emotions than I could possibly hope to sort out, let alone process.

“Truce … sounds good,” I agreed, nodding back at him, trying to keep my breathing even.

He sighed deeply.  “Alright then, let’s go.”