A/N: This the first book in a trilogy, so things that don't make sense after the story is done (it is multi-chaptered) will be explained in the next two books. Hope you enjoy this story!
Prologue
Thursday, 10 May 2007
7:20 P.M.
"Remember, two months from tonight, you need to go and 'spend the night' at Jane's house," whispered James, my fiancé. James was also my orchestra director and 27 years old to my 16, but we didn't care about those things; we were in love. Besides, under the new laws in my state, I was allowed to get married without my parents' consent at the age of 16.
James clasped my left hand, which had my aquamarine and diamond engagement ring on it. "This hand," he said, "is the most beautiful hand I've ever seen in my life." "James," I laughed, "my hand is bony, has big knuckles, and is scarred! How in the heck can it be beautiful?" "Because it belongs to you, Lara," he stated with his beautiful green eyes wide-open and the kind of seriousness that most people associate with a young child. Yet, the seriousness of those words melted my heart, just like every other compliment that he gave me.
"I don't want to leave you the day after, James; I want to stay with you forever," I begged him. I knew that staying with a man forbidden to me by my parents, even if he were my husband, could not be. Yet, I couldn't help wanting to stay with my husband, could I? "We'll never be apart again, Lara; we will be forever one," he reassured me.
With that, he bent down, kissed me gently on the mouth, and led me to forbidden pleasures...
Our wedding was never to be. Nine days after that night, a guy in the band attacked James with a bottle of 12M hydrochloric acid and sent him to the hospital. On Sunday, James slipped into a coma from the extensive damage to his brain. I left for a trip to Hungary three days after that, though all I wanted to do was stay by James' side.
On the day I was coming back from Hungary, I got a call from Mr. O'Neill, the head band director. He told me that James' mother had pulled the plug on James two days ago, and James had just now died.
All hope went out of me at that moment. I had at least had the hope that James might come out of his coma sometime while I was in Hungary. Now, though, I looked forward to life as a ruined almost-widow. I was heartbroken and nothing bad that happened to me could be worse than this.