I went to work on Monday morning like usual. As soon as I walked in the door, I could tell Henry wasn't expecting me. He glanced up from behind the counter, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he saw me.
"Oh," he muttered sourly. "It's you."
I was used to Henry's moods, but there was something about his tone this time that made me flinch.
"It is a Monday," I replied, trying to hide my hurt as I approached the counter. "What did you expect?" He didn't look at me, but instead kept his eyes focused on the paper in front of him. I rested my elbows on the counter and leaned forward. "Henry," I sing-songed. "What's wrong?"
He lifted his head, frowning slightly. "What are we doing, Ella?" he asked quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what the hell are we doing?" he repeated. "This thing that's been going on between us for months now—what is it? It may not be a physical affair, but it's certainly an emotional one. Except here's the thing, Ella. I can't do this anymore. I can't deal with the flirting and the making eyes at each other and the little smiles, and then watching you go back to your husband every time. I'm not an idiot. I can see this is going nowhere. You're going to choose Edmund every time. And I love you—you know I do. But I can't keep getting my hopes up only for you to shoot them down every single time. I can't even figure whether you love me back or if this is just a game to you. Sometimes I think it'd be a whole lot better for both us if you stopped working here."
I understood what he was saying. It all made sense. But the thought of not seeing him regularly anymore made me feel queasy. "What if I don't?" I asked, leaning in closer. "What if I just keep coming in? Will you fire me?"
"You know," he murmured, shaking his head, "I must be a fucking masochist. As much as I wish I could just fire you, I can't. It hurts to be near you knowing I can't have you. But it hurts even more when I think about never seeing you."
"Just so you know," I whispered. "It's not a game to me."
He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, studying me. I shifted slightly under his piercing gaze. "No?" he muttered hoarsely.
I shook my head. "No."
The corners of his mouth twitched up and I felt myself grinning right back. I loved when Henry smiled—really smiled. He was always so beautiful, but his smile could light up a room.
I walked around the counter, draping my arms around his shoulders and staring up into his eyes. His arms encircled my waist and he leaned his head down, burying his face in my neck. I felt his lips brush against my skin, trailing feather light kisses down toward the base of my throat. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but it felt so right. And there was a part of my mind—the senseless, love-sick part—that had convinced myself that as long as I didn't let him kiss me on the lips, then I wasn't really in the wrong. We were just friends who were being friendly. That was all. Even though I knew perfectly well that wasn't really the case.
We were too absorbed in each other to hear the bell above the door, and neither of us noticed that two customers had entered until I heard someone clear her throat. I pulled away from Henry and looked to see who had come in. My heart immediately plummeted into my stomach. Standing on the other side of the counter were my stepsisters. Drizella was smirking widely, looking absolutely gleeful. Anastasia stood beside her, her mouth hanging open in shock.
"Well, well, well," Drizella murmured. "All those rumors about you were true after all. I wouldn't be surprised if you're glad you lost that baby. Now you'll never have to explain to your dear husband why it didn't look a thing like him, will you, Cinderella?"
I let out a loud gasp. I had always known Drizella was cruel, but never had I imagined that she would go as far as to openly mock my miscarriage. I felt Henry tense up beside me. I glanced over at him and saw that he was staring at Drizella, hatred burning in his eyes. But before either of us had overcome our shock in order to actually say something, it was Anastasia who spoke.
"Drizella!" she exclaimed, looking horrified. "What in the world is wrong with you?"
I was stunned. Anastasia always went along with whatever her sister said or did, no questions asked. She had never been the brightest girl and so she had latched on to someone smarter than she who could have opinions for her.
Drizella also seemed shocked by her sister's outburst. "What did you just say?" she asked quietly.
"I asked what the hell is wrong with you?" Anastasia hissed, sounded even angrier than before. "That poor girl lost her baby before it ever even got a chance at life. There's a line and you just crossed it, Drizella."
For the first time in her life, Drizella was speechless. She gaped at her sister, as if she couldn't believe it was really her who had just spoken.
Henry broke the silence. "Drizella, I'm going to have to ask that you leave my shop immediately. And please do us all a favor and never return. Anyone who speaks that way to Ella is not welcome here."
Drizella seemed to recover from her shock and she straightened up, looking Henry directly in the eye. "How sweet of you," she cooed, "to stick up for your little whore."
"You know," Henry hissed, his eyes flashing, "I've always believed that under no circumstances should a man ever hit a woman. But I have never felt so inclined to break my own rule than right now. I won't, of course. But I wish I could."
Anastasia let out a sharp bark of laughter and Drizella glared at her. "Come, Anastasia," she said, beginning to walk toward the door. "Let's take our business elsewhere."
"I don't want to," Anastasia replied, staying where she was. "I didn't get kicked out, did I? I can stay if I desire to."
Drizella let out a furious string of expletives, directed at all of three of us, and then stormed out the door.
"I have very few memories of Drizella from childhood," Henry muttered after she had disappeared. "But I do remember that one time she tried to kiss me under that old oak tree that separated our yards. She smelled like sour milk and I ran away."
Anastasia giggled. "That little liar. She told me afterwards that you had kissed her."
Henry made a face. "God, no," he said. "There was only one girl next door that I ever kissed." He turned to look at me, a smirk spreading across his face.
I felt my face turn red.
"Are you all right?" Anastasia suddenly asked me. "I hope what Drizella said didn't upset you too much."
I shrugged. "I'll be okay," I murmured.
Henry's face grew serious again. "She's a horrid girl," he said. "Don't let what she said get to you. She's not even worth it."
I knew he was right, of course. But any reminder of my lost baby was like a punch to the gut. The pain was still unbearable. Nobody should have to experience what I went through. To go through all the preparations for becoming a mother and then to never get a child—it was an awful thing.
"Mama!" my precious little boy called out, stretching out his arms toward me. I scooped him up in my arms and he giggled happily. I smiled down at him, loving everything I saw. The rosy cheeks. The bright blue eyes he'd gotten from me. The thick, dark hair he'd gotten from his daddy.
"There's my boy!" Edmund said, coming up behind me. He placed one hand on my shoulder, gazing down fondly at his son.
I felt a drop of rain hit my nose and I glanced up. The sky had turned from blue to gray and storm clouds loomed directly above. A crack of thunder startled my son and he began to cry.
"We better get inside," I said to Edmund.
He nodded in agreement and we both turned around. But, to our utter shock, the castle was gone.
"Where'd it go?" I asked frantically, as the rain began to fall faster. "Edmund, how could it have just disappeared?"
Our son had begun to cry louder now, his sobs drowned out by the sound of the rain and the thunder.
"Edmund!" I shouted. "Do something!"
"What am I supposed to do exactly?" he snapped. "Build a new castle?"
I felt my son begin to squirm in my arms. I strengthened my grip on him, but he only struggled more. I screamed as he slipped right out of my arms, hitting the ground with a thud. I bent down, ready to snatch him back up, but he rolled out of my reach and right down the hill. I chased after him, but he only rolled faster. I could hear Edmund behind me, shouting my name, but I didn't stop running. Then suddenly, I tripped on something and went tumbling down. I scrambled back up as fast as I could, looking around wildly. My little boy was nowhere in sight. I ran all over, screaming his name until my voice went hoarse. But he was nowhere to be found.
The rain had finally stopped, but it was much colder than before. I wrapped my shawl more tightly around my shoulders, shivering. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. It didn't look like any of the property that I'd ever seen.
"Edmund!" I called out. Perhaps he'd found our son and both of them were safe somewhere. "Edmund!"
"Ella?" I heard him say, from somewhere behind me.
I spun around. He was standing a few yards away and my heart sank when I saw that he was alone.
"Did you find him?" I asked, still holding out hope.
He shook his head and I let out a strangled sob. "What are we going to do?"
Edmund shrugged helplessly and something strange began to happen. It was as if he was fading away. I watched in horror as he grew fainter and fainter. I walked toward him, but no matter how many steps I took, he never got any closer. I called out to him, but it was as if he could no longer see or hear me. He stared right past me, slowly disappearing from sight.
Then, suddenly, he was gone.
And I was alone.
I collapsed to the ground and everything went black.
I woke up screaming, my face covered in sweat. I untangled myself from my covers and sat up. The darkness of my bedroom was unsettling. I felt more alone than I had in a long time. I got out of bed, crossing the room and opening the door. I don't think my mind fully knew where I was going until I ended up in front of Edmund's bedroom door. I pushed open the door slowly, peering inside. The lights were on and Edmund was sitting on his bed, reading a book. I opened the door farther and stepped inside. Edmund glanced up.
"Ella?" he asked, looking confused. "What are you doing in here?"
It occurred to me how strange it was that I had never been inside my own husband's bedroom. He had always come to me; that was just how things were done. I shrugged, crossing the room and climbing up onto the bed. I lay back, marveling at how comfortable it was.
"This bed is huge, Edmund," I said. "Seriously, why don't I have a bed like this?"
"I'm the king," he replied, grinning slightly. "I get the king sized bed."
I slipped under the covers and lay my head down on one the pillows, closing my eyes. If I had known how comfortable his bed was, I would have started coming here much sooner.
I felt him shake my shoulder. "Nooo," I groaned, blindly swatting at him. "Let me sleep."
"Ella, I know something's wrong," he said. "You wouldn't be in here if there wasn't."
I opened my eyes, but didn't sit up. "I had a nightmare," I murmured, staring up the ceiling. "About the baby."
"I dream about him too," Edmund replied quietly.
I turned to look at him. "Really?"
"Of course," he said. "But they're not nightmares. In my dreams, it's always just the three of us, doing something mundane, being a happy family. But then I wake up and remember none of it is real. And that's when I get sad."
Both of us were quiet for a long time.
"The baby really was yours," I finally said, not looking at him. "Not Henry's. Just yours and mine."
"I know," he replied.
His voice was full of sadness, full of what-might-have-beens.
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