The Fragile Mess of Multiple Husbands

In love, you need to make sacrifices. I know Leah loves me, and she has given up so much for my sake. She has been so patient with me, and looking back on it now… I don’t know why it took me so long to get better. I don’t know why it took me so long to come to my senses and finally ask her to marry me, but after a year long engagement, the day has finally come.

I spent days on my vows. Then I read them back and realized they sounded pretty stupid, cliché and way too dramatic, so I scrapped the entire, overly long speech and thought of just going with a few simple, more traditional phrases…

There is nothing traditional about this love story though. We had a kid out of wedlock, years ago, and my wife is a polyamorous, vampire venom addict. I’m not any better. I am a demon of the night and a mass murderer, who disguises himself as a dorky paramedic, because he’s too much of a cowardly mess to even walk out in public without a glamour.

I could have taken off these glasses at the bakery and gotten the entire mess-up with our wedding cake straightened out within seconds, instead of waiting in line for nearly an hour just to deal with some part time employee who didn’t even remember my four previous visits placing and clarifying this order. I could have removed the lenses and used my compulsion, and I would have had everyone’s rapt attention and been given a replacement for our late, ruined cake, with no hassle and no fuss.

Leah would never have to know, and even if I did tell her… She probably wouldn’t care. Hell, she would probably be happy getting to see my real face again. It’s always pitch black in the bedroom when we settle down to sleep and I finally take off my lenses, but I wake up to her watching me sleep sometimes, after I’ve passed out on her blood. That loving look in her eyes, when they’re free to lock with my own, not being redirected with enchantment… There’s no reason I should put my glasses back on, the second I sit up. We’re in the privacy of our own apartment, where I should not need to hide like that.

But when I’m thinking of nothing but pinning her down and fucking her long and hard before I drink her blood again… I don’t trust myself with even the choice to control her. I need the glamour on to stop feeling like a monster.

But I will never stop feeling like a monster: an unfit father who conceived his kid through borderline assault before possibly compelling his wife into marrying him.

Shit. I think I’m having another panic attack. It’s not regular wedding day jitters. I am not doubting whether or not I want to marry Leah. I’m just thinking I’m not worthy to. I can’t be trusted. I can’t even make love to her without getting overwhelmed and blacking out for fucks sake, even after all this time.

I guess we’ll never have another kid. But we got it so right the first time around, I guess we don’t really need to. Ben really is just so perfect, whip-smart, tenacious, and loving.

I don’t deserve to be his father. Julian is a far better father to him, rushing over to our rescue, even on last minute notice, on absolutely any night that Leah calls. He’ll stay watching Ben for as long as she needs, even when it leaves him stranded inside our apartment the entire next day, hiding from the daylight with nothing to do. I was there some of those times too, especially in the early months of Ben's development. I was right there at home. I just couldn’t watch Ben, because she couldn’t trust the two of us alone together. Looking into his eyes would shut me down sometimes, leave me catatonic, unless I stayed holed up in my room, unemployed and utterly useless.

I have a steady job now, work I actually care about…

It doesn’t pay much though. Leah still has to work, so we can cover the rent, and I know she doesn’t like her job, or most of her coworkers. She could transfer to another hospital… but I know she would never actually want to move.

She could never leave this city, because it would mean leaving the coven, never returning to Club Noctus…

I would like that, truth be told. I would like it if she never met with Luc, not ever again. He still never apologized for everything he did to me, to us…

Leah loves everything he did to her. She lets him do it all still, and a part of me can see the appeal--

That part of me never used to exist. I don’t know what he is, or where he came from…

I never knew my father, but I know he was attached to Luc. He’s the one who would keep picturing Luc naked, up against him, amidst a cluster of writhing praels and hungry mouths. And I know Luc had me impersonating that tyrant for months on end…

Months I’ve blacked out entirely, because I was not myself. I did terrible things, but** it was not me** doing them.

It is all Luc’s fault.

Now he’s right there in Leah’s dressing room, on our wedding day.

I managed to pull myself together, to calm my breathing and get up off the fucking floor, choke down a Xanax, and focus on the simple task of just getting on my tux. I did it all before Kate barged in and demanded to know what was taking me so long. I told her it was nothing but a wardrobe malfunction. She didn’t believe me, so I slid off my glasses, and repeated, with authority, that it was nothing but a wardrobe issue. She went right back to smiling in an instant, skipping off cheerily. That wasn’t an evil thing to do, forcing her to beleive me. It’s the same thing as lying to keep the peace, and on Leah’s special day, that is a goal more important than my personal hang-ups.

I looked to the glasses in my hands before laying them down on the side table. I control these powers. I have not been controlling Leah. It was irrational to even think that. She has a talisman to protect her from that, and she made her own decision to accept this proposal. I do not need a glamour to protect her. I can reign in the compulsion, and I should not be hiding today. I want to hold Leah’s eyes as we take our vows. This church is practically empty of guests anyhow, so who cares if one priest and my straight coworker get a look at my real face?

The anti-anxiety meds made it almost easy to leave behind those lenses and head right to my expected position, stood tall at the altar, waiting for Leah…

Then Leah missed her cue. I guess I did leave her waiting for a rudely long time, so maybe she tuned out watching YouTube on her phone. I wanted to go get her, to apologize, but Kate told me to stay put, and she would handle it.

I didn’t. I trailed right along behind her… and I saw Luc climbing out the window of Leah’s dressing room. He didn’t make it an awkward and embarrassing flight. He slipped out the opening with grace and composure, caught sight of me, and dared shoot me a smile, a gloating little grin.

I do not want to deal with this. Not today, of all days.

The door of Leah’s dressing room is already opening again, and she and Kate are walking out into the hallway, fussing to get on her veil, before heading back this way. They haven’t seen me yet, but I can’t just stay standing here dumbstruck. I can’t start a fight and accuse Leah of fucking Luc while we were supposed to be taking our vows. I was the one who left her waiting, and I can’t resent her at all, not when I know about their arrangement. Luc is her fucking husband. She married him first and she will never divorce him, but today of all days…

I can sure as hell storm out these side doors and punch Luc in his smug, stupid face.