Aspen's P.O.V.

So marriage is supposed to be this overly amazing thing that joins one thing to another.

In this case, those things being conjoined are Lucy and I.

And I'm happy! I really am.

So why do I feel the need to prove it to myself?

It just feels wrong- like this isn't right. Like I shouldn't be doing this.

Like she isn't the one.

I mean, I'm throwing my whole life away for this one girl that I…

That I don't…

Love.

It is so hard to admit that I am wrong, but I am.

Because I love America.

And that's wrong! I shouldn't love her!

But I do.

For Christ's sake, I'm marrying another woman who, quite frankly, isn't even liked by me, much less loved by me! Lucy is too pushy and too showy and too fake and too everything and I can't deal with it.

Now America- she's perfect. And now I can't have her.

Because perfection always finds true love.

So after I (wrongly) propose to Lucy, I get registered and tested so that I can become a guard. The other new recruits and I get onto a seemingly cargo plane to head to Angeles.

It's going to be a long ride, I say to myself.

After speaking with a few of the new guards, I begin to clear my head and think about something other than (ugh) Lucy and America.

America…

No. Stop.

Blue eyes that hold such mystery and promise; hair a natural, soft red that only accentuates her eyes…

Stop.

Soft pink lips, so perfect; porcelain skin that gleams with an inward glow that can't help but shine through…

No…

That voice that mends and breaks my heart every time that I hear it, with the song that has no ending and no beginning- only harmony, beauty, and a soft fire that burns your soul from within.

I give up.

I remember a time when we had first started dating. I lived in a house that had a secret tree house that only America and I knew about, and we would "sneak" out of our living arrangements and stressful days and just go up there to talk and eat something that she prepared.

It was our castle.

I was the king.

She was my queen.

And we had it all.

But it was all just an illusion; a façade that was built up to show that everything was perfect in our lives. To her, I was just a distraction from stress or work.

But to me, she was everything.

I think that at some point she convinced herself that it was real, and that just added another brick to the façade.

Brick by brick, we built a wall on a foundation that was mostly truth. But that one percent of lies was enough.

Enough to change everything.

I realize that my eyes are closing just as the guards behind me finish their conversation; probably about women.

I fall into a mindless, dreamless sleep that finally clears my mind of America.

For the moment, that is.

I awaken to the sound of shouting and sit up straight. I notice that there are several of us new recruits that are just waking up, but I only think of where I am. I assume that we are in Angeles because the plane is stopped and people are getting off, so I get up and make my through the group of tired recruits to the door.

As I jump out of the door, I know exactly where we are.

The palace.

I quickly straighten up as a highly decorated man approaches me and hands me a uniform, telling me to put it on once I reach the building. I turn and walk towards the breathtaking architecture of the palace and push open the heavy doors with a sigh.

It is simply beautiful. All cream and marble and expensive finishings that make up the hall alone. The country's national colors, which include a rich royal blue and an exquisite gold, adorn the walls with paintings and tapestries so well executed that not even the finest seamstress in Paris and the most talented Fives could make these a reality.

I go into a room where a huge gathering of men are changing into their uniforms. I begin to change and as I am changing I realize that I am standing in a room that has over ten times the amount of people that were in my plane. I guess the entire country's draft process started today.

When I finish changing, I follow a group of new guards down a hallway; probably to where we are staying for the night.

As we walk, my thoughts once again stray to America. What is she doing right now? Not that I should care; I mean, I am marrying someone else, which makes America off limits to me. But still.

All of the sudden, I hear a sound coming from one of the rooms to my right.

I realize that it is music…and then I hear a voice.

America.

Thinking that no one will notice me, I approach the room and enter it, closing the door behind me softly as to not disturb her.

And there she is. Sitting in, quite frankly, the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.

But that's not what captures my attention. Oh, no- she's beautiful, but that isn't what amazes me right now.

It's her voice.

It has taken on a sort of strength and beauty that I've never heard before, not even when I could hear her in the recording studio.

It sounds free. Like she's letting everything go and not holding a single thing back from herself.

It's such a lovely and perfect sound that I can do nothing but listen and stare as she weaves a tapestry that is ten times more beautiful and perfect than those in the halls. If her voice right now was a real and tangible thing, then all of those paintings would look positively shabby compared to it.

She finishes the song, much too early in my opinion, and notices me standing there for the very first time.

And the look on her face… it's like she goes from a creature of harmony and sound and beauty to a creature of hatred and stone.

It breaks my heart.

Who is this person that stands before me? Who was that weak person that I knew for 5 years while we were dating?

Who has she become?

I don't honestly know what I was expecting. Most certainly not love and forgiveness, but at the very least some kind of greeting that isn't hate filled or hurtful.

But there is no forgiveness to be found; no love to bind us together. I realize now that my love for America is not mutual, bound by the trust that goes both ways. I am parasitic to her; something that she wishes would go away forever and never bother her again.

And this confuses me, because I don't understand why her hatred has gone to the next level of pain.

And anyways, she has no real reason to hate me this much, unless she knows about me and Lucy…

Why did I do what I did to make her hate me?

When she finally speaks, the thing that was thought to be impossible was sadly confirmed.

"Don't ever speak to me again. I know, okay? You and Lucy are getting married…"

Oh. Well there you go.

I respond with the first thing that comes to mind, "America please, just let me explain!"

I realize my mistake as soon as it has been made. This just makes her angrier, and that makes this harder than it has to be.

"Did I forget to say congrats to the happy couple? Well congratulations," she says bitterly.

I stand there in shock at her tone, wondering what I did to deserve this.

Scratch that. I know what I did.

Something changes in her eyes, and I see the little spark of finality that drives me crazy any time we fight.

Well, fought. Something tells me that this will be the last argument that we have.

I see the thing that I fear the most: Finality. She's done with me.

She's done.

I try one last ditch effort to win her back and explain things to her. She turns from me and walks away, and I, being the lost puppy I am without her, follow her.

"America," I say as she walks away towards the door, "Please give me a chance." I follow her until she turns around to face me.

"No."

I stand there in shock, feeling as though I was just punched in the stomach. All breath leaves my lungs, and I take one last shallow breath.

No.

That one word changes my life. Just like that one word 'yes' changed it for the worst. I realize in that moment that I lost her…

And that the wrong girl said yes to me.

No.

This isn't how this is supposed to work. This isn't how love is supposed to work.

This isn't what I wanted.

With pain so evident in my eyes and my heart, I wait for the words that will tear me apart to fall from her lips.

"Goodbye, Aspen."

As she walks out the door and shuts it in my face, the tears begin to fall.

No.

I deserve it, I know, but I thought that I could just explain Lucy away and we could go back to the way things were before.

What a fool I am.

I should have known better than to do this.

With a heavy heart and a tearstained face, I say my final goodbyes to the one that I loved the most.

My first love.

And what's sad about all of this is that I still love her, and I always will.

I. Still. Love. Her.

Goodbye, America. My perfect, beautiful America.

Goodbye my eternal love.

Goodbye.

So how did ya'll like it? Favorite, Follow, and Review! Oh, and I will respond to the reviews I got from the previous chapter in this one response group ONLY. I cannot tell you guys how much of a blessing it is to see so many people reading, following, and reviewing my story. If you are reading this story, then thank you for your support of just skimming over my story when there are so many other things you could be doing. Thank you, and I lurve ya'll!

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Thank you all again, and I hope to see everyone again in the next chapter! Lurve ya!

-A