After a review made about how things are happening too fast and being improperly timed, I would like to reiterate that I have very little time to write new chapters and try and make them as eventful as possible as I'm almost always working. Obviously if I had an unlimited amount of time then, yes, I would be able to spend a lot more time on both the quality and the quantity of this story, however unless you'd prefer to wait months for a new chapter, then things are going to happen a little faster than necessary and maybe they will be improperly timed but I'm honestly trying to keep it as eventful as possible for you guys.

Also, in regards to the vampire that Amelia was going to leave John for, no it isn't Godric. That would just be weird. It also wasn't going to be an important point of the story, like I hadn't planned for the vampire to pop up later on. As of right now, that vampire is just the reason that Thalia's dad hates vampires so much.

Six months later

"What about these?"

Aimee is holding up a bunch of lilies with the sort of expression that I'd normally associate with intense concentration whilst studying. Apparently picking out flowers for a wedding requires the same amount of deliberation, if not more.

"They're nice. Does Alex want lillies?"

Aimee rolls her eyes. "If it were left up to Alex, he'd pick a few dandelions from the back yard and done with it." She looks down at the flowers in her hands for a few moments before sighing. "Ok, I can't be bothered to do this today. Lets just go home, I'll come back tomorrow."

I grin and push myself off of the wall I've been leaning against. This must be the fifth fower shop that we've come to in the past week alone and Aimee still can't decide which ones she wants for her wedding. They have to be perfect and as of right now, she still hasn't found the right ones. She's been in wedding fever for the past five months or so, ever since she and Alex set a date (five weeks from today) and I've been roped in to helping. I was kind of grateful for it, actually. With all the wedding preparations coupled with college, all the weird supernatural stuff just seemed to melt away. I stopped having weird dreams about mom and, as far as I know, so did Ethan. I haven't had anymore dreams about Godric, either. Well, I had two others in the weeks following the first dream, but after that, nothing. In fact I've not seen nor heard anything of Godric since those dreams. Not gonna lie, that was kind of a relief. I mean, moving on is hard enough without being dogged by dreams about your ex.

As we're walking out of the shop, Aimee is reading a message on her cell. She frowns at it for a moment.

"Are you bringing a date?"

"What?"

"To the wedding?"

Oh. A date. Honestly, I hadn't really thought about it. "I don't know. I mean, maybe. I don't really…I mean, I haven't really given it much thought."

"Well you better hurry up, otherwise you'll end up with Mark."

Oh lord, not Mark. I mean, he's nice enough, I suppose. Well, not really. From what I've gathered over the past few months, he doesn't really like anything. Except beer pong and world of warcraft. And me apparently. I kind of can't stand him. "Would it be totally weird if I brought my brother? I really don't think that I can handle a whole day as Mark's date without brutally murdering him."

Aimee laughs. "You could always just not bring a date?" She suggests.

"No. Because then Mark might try to, I don't know, try it on. Because, you know, eight rejections isn't enough, right? You know what they say, ninth time lucky!"

"So you're going to pretend that your brother is your boyfriend?"

"No! I'm going to let people assume that, unless they ask."

Aimee rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. She's met Ethan a couple of times, and liked him (I think) so me bringing him to her wedding (for company, not as my date) shouldn't be a problem.

I turn the card over in my hands with a sigh. It's been carefully crafted with delicate hands, I can tell. The intricate gold writing inside has been handwritten. It's a generic message inviting me to a wedding. Of course, that's not what has me frustrated. It's the implication behind it. Aimee hasn't invited me to her wedding because we're good friends and she wants me there on her special day. She's invited me in some ridiculous attempt to reunite me with Thalia. It's infuriating. Maddening. She knows, I know she does, that I want nothing more than to fix things with Thalia. I did what I had to do to protect her, not just from the Fellowship but from anyone else who might want to hurt her because of her relationship with me. From the point of view of those who hate vampires, Thalia is guilty by association. I had to cut her off. I handled it badly, I know, but I didn't have any other choice. She almost died because of me! Aimee knows this, and yet she still seems to believe that it would be advisable for me to attempt to rekindle our relationship. It wouldn't. It would be disastrous. And that kills me. It's taken me every ounce of self control that I possess not to throw caution to the winds, these last six months or so, and seek out Thalia to beg for her forgiveness. Her face, the way she looked at me the last time I saw her, still haunts me. I dream about her, too. On rare occasions she's happy. She'll smile at me, caress my face and tell me that she loves me. Other times she'll scream at me. She'll tell me that I was the worst thing that ever happened to me. That I deserve to die. That she wants the pleasure of killing me herself. These are worse than the dreams in which she is happy, obviously, but both pale in comparison to the more commonly recurring dream in which she is dead. I'll find her, pale and unmoving. At first I'll think that she's sleeping, but as I go to shake her awake, I'll realise that her heart is still in her chest. And it's my fault. It's always my fault.

I crumple up the invitation, I can't go to the wedding, not if she's going to be there, and throw it to the other side of the room with a cry of exasperation. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of it. I wasn't supposed to fall for a human. It was never going to end well. It has never ended well in the past, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now.