Chapter 96: A fragile bond
Light filtered through plantation wood shutters and cast shivers of gold upon the moon-glazed marble floor, making the whole place beautiful. I laid there, really still, the rosewood headboard of our bed warming the small part of my back, and watched the soft ballet of light and dark upon the walls. The cavernous stillness of the villa was comforting but confining—vaguely as if expectation itself brooded over us in a suffocating silence.
I turned onto my side and rolled across the nightstand for the box that contained the diamond ring. It rested there, soft to the touch, velvet, its contents a burden and a promise wrapped up together as one. I reached down and touched over its closed top, the weight of Caspian's intention pressing against my palm and it felt too heavy for me to bear.
In the quiet still of the morning, the garden down from the villa was enchantment-sounding—rose lips-kissed that had dew drops for tears, hedges perfectly clipped that melted in mist. I put the box down on the nightstand and brought my legs up onto the bed. My feet made contact with the cold marble and I leapt over to the window. Out there in the surroundings, the first birds awoke in the trees, their singing dainty strands of sound that embroidered the air, it was loud enough to keep anyone awake.
I inhaled the scent of night-blooming jasmine carried in by the open window. Outside the villa, the world was vast and serene. But within this gold gilded cage we had built for ourselves, my heart was tangled with questions that could not be untangled.
I was famished so I decided to head to the sunroom to discover Caspian already waiting there, bathed in the golden light of morning sun. He was standing in front of the antique sideboard, filling the silver jug with coffee. The rosewood dinner table had been set for two: fine china, crystal glasses, and a single white rose in a tall vase in the middle.
I moved across the floor in my silk gown, the edge of which swept against the slick hardwood. Caspian's eyes turned toward me at the soft whisper of my slippers. His dark eyes met mine, but the blaze I was looking for was replaced by something else—tension, a fleeting glimpse of guilt.
"Good morning Lily," he whispered.
"Good morning Cass." “How was your night.” He asked as the follow up. “It was okay, thanks for asking”. I replied in a gentle tone.
I sat and placed my hands in my lap. The china mug before me was too fragile to hold the black liquid.
He filled it, and sat across from me. Between us was a moment of uncomfortable silence mainly due to the events of the previous night. Outside, the wind gently pushed against the curtains, the coffee steam curling in the light like little ghosts.
I finally cleared my throat. "Did you sleep well?"
He had been drinking before he could speak. "Enough I guess." He gazed at the rose, and a shadow passed over his face. "Did you sleep well too?"
I glanced at my hands. "Couldn’t sleep for a while but I later ended up getting some shut eye." Was all I could muster.
He set his cup down with a soft clinking. "Lily…"
I expected him to apologize for what happened, some gentle words of reassurance. Instead , even he opened his lips, he closed them, and looked away. Sunlight played on the silver teapot as he poured my cup again. When he finally spoke again, his tone was a bit more measured. "Last night… I figured I could fix everything with an engagement. I—" He swept back his hair. "I figured a ring would be proof that I was serious."
I lifted my eyes to him, expecting the hurt in his words. "A ring would not fix doubts," I whispered. "Not yours, not mine. It only silvered the cracks."
He flinched at the bluntness of my words as I uttered them, his lips folding into a line. "So what do we do?"
I backed away, looking out over the garden. "We learn to trust again. We work with the fear instead of pandering it over time and time again."
He blinked, as though he had not expected that answer. “I’m trying Lily, I really am.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know Cass, I know.”
I left the villa and drove to my bookstore under an autumn sky that promised warmth. On the drive there, I kept replaying the events of the previous night in my head and I knew one thing for sure, i was confused. Inside my bookstore, the air smelled of polished wood and fresh paint. My assistant greeted me with a cloud of lavender perfume and a sympathetic smile.
“Everything okay, boss?” she asked, setting out the day’s schedule on a sleek mahogany desk.
I returned her smile with great effort. “Yes. Just… thinking, lots of things on my mind.”
She nodded, though concern flickered in her dark eyes. “The opening’s in two days. We’ll be ready.”
I breathed deeply and walked over to the new installation—a group of massive abstract paintings filled with color for decoration. I waded through the paintings, bracing the corner here, standing one frame up there, my thoughts running over this morning's conversation.
Caspian's comment: I thought that a ring would show that I was serious.
And mine: A ring won't silence doubts.
I asked myself if ever I would be able catch him without that mask of fear in his eyes. That looked like an impossible task for now.
In the afternoon, after getting off a client call, I took a much needed break and slipped unnoticed through the store’s hidden courtyard—a tiny oasis of ivy-covered walls and stone benches. The sun beating directly overhead threw mosaic lights on the flagstones. I sat down on a bench, catching the fragrance of magnolia flowers.
My phone buzzed with a text from Caspian:
"Will you have lunch with me Lily?"
I gazed at it, caught between desire and anger. I responded:
"Not today Cass, I am really busy."
My phone flashed nearly immediately:
"Please. I'll sit in the garden. Meet me? I will be waiting for you."
He was really trying—I could clearly see that. I knew then how much I missed him, how hollow our grand gestures and smooth faces were without the quiet intimacy of mundane moments shared. I let out a sigh and responded:
"I will be there in twenty minutes, just need to wrap up somethings here before leaving."
I pocketed the phone and closed my eyes, hearing the coos of pigeons and shuffling of leaves calm me as I got lost in my thoughts.