The room was silent for the first time all morning. They had finally left her alone with her thoughts, leaving her staring out the window at the bustle in the yard. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen so much white blanketing the entire lawn, wispy white threads of ribbon hanging from the trees. It should have looked beautiful, but she couldn't even bring herself to care. Her hands were kept busy by the ring she held, twisting it over and over again. She didn't need to look at it to know how it appeared, each part of it etched into her mind from the simple little stone it contained, right down to the golden colouring of the band.
Sunlight caught the other stone on her finger, sending scattering ripples through the room, distorted and fractured, in a mocking imitation of her own soul. It bounced off the walls, illuminating the white flowers on the dressing table. A painful reminder of what today was. It was hard enough to look at the flowers. She hadn't dared risk a glance at herself in the mirror, couldn't risk seeing the white dress that flowed along her body. Because that would make it seem all too real, and right now, Darcy wasn't ready for that.
She had been so excited in the beginning. She had been unable to wipe the smile from her face or the light in her eyes when she showed off the ring she had been given, beaming in a way that she hadn't for such a long time. She had thrown herself into the preparations, wanting everything to be perfect and for a while, she had thought it would be. But as the date drew nearer, she slowly found herself realising that something just wasn't quite right. And she had no idea what it possibly could have been.
Her fiance was a good man. She adored him, wouldn't have said yes if she hadn't, and yet, there was still something niggling at the back of her mind, like a storm cloud lingering over the horizons. Logically, she knew there should be nothing to dampen this day, because it had been something she had been waiting for for some time now. It had only been when she stumbled across the other ring locked away at the back of a drawer in her room that it finally washed over her like a tidal wave, knocking the very air from her lungs. She knew then and there what was missing, what had been missing from the very beginning. And for the first time in a long time, Darcy had cried herself to sleep that night, the ring clutched tightly in her hand.
The sound of chattering voices below the window was enough to break her from her thoughts, startling her back to the present. She had promised herself she wouldn't think of it, and yet here she was, unable to keep even that simple promise to herself. It would have made no difference anyway. That bridge had been burnt the day he had walked out of her life for good, leaving behind nothing but his final letter to her, and she knew that. She had moved not long after that, needing a fresh start, a chance to get away from the house that held too many memories. She had met Mike then and hadn't looked back since. Or so she had thought. She guessed there were more memories buried then she had realised.
Outside the window, everything looked perfect, almost like something out of a fairytale. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture it, how it was supposed to go. She could even see it as someone else's special day, distancing herself completely from it, nothing more than a spectator watching from above. Escaping reality forever wasn't going to work, that much she knew, so with a sigh, she let her eyes flicker open again, taking in the view. It was perfect, just like she had always imagined. But it wasn't just quite as perfect as she had previously hoped. It would have to be enough.
There was a knock on the door, no doubt another well wisher making an early round before the wedding itself took place, and with great reluctance, Darcy pushed herself off the bed, careful not to crumple the dress any more than it already was, turning to face the visitor. She hadn't expected to freeze, eyes widening from the shock of it all, nearly dropping the ring in the process.
He was standing at the edge of the threshold to her bedroom, looking every bit like he had the last time she had seen him. His hair was longer now, perhaps the only difference she could actively see. In his hand, he held a bouquet of flowers, a mixture of daffodils and tulips. He wore a tie, perhaps the first time she had ever seen him adorned in such a thing, but his boots remained the same old army boots that had been beside her front door all those years ago. The wave of emotions went through her like a kaleidoscope of colours, leaving her without any definite sense of direction.
There was a badge on his hip now, attached to his belt, perhaps the only thing she managed to notice in her dazed state, though why she had fixated on that, she didn't know. It jumped out at her, bold as brass, and maybe her eyes had trained on it to avoid looking at him. Maybe it was her body's way of trying to get her brain to catch up with what had transpired. She didn't know.
"Tim?" The word had come out as a whisper, half convinced she was still locked in some dream like state.
"Hey Darcy," he greeted her, his own voice nearly as quiet as hers, sounding exactly like he had, throwing her further into the past, disorientating her further, unable to get a decent grip on what was happening.
Her mind was on autopilot now. She wasn't even too sure of what had happened next. All she could remember was the sound of the door slamming shut and somehow she had ended up on the ground, back pressed against the door, head in her hands. The makeup they had worked so hard on was ruined now, running down her cheeks with the tears that washed it away. The sound of the bustling activity outside her window had faded to nothing, replaced by the sound of her own half choked sobs.
How had he found her? Why had he even bothered? Those were the questions that circled around her mind, unable to quieten them. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, running those two questions over again and again. But eventually the tears slowed, finally coming to a halt. On the other side of the door, she could still hear him, the gentle sound of his breathing, the mumbled curse words that escaped his mouth. It was all so familiar, and perhaps, if she had not been so exhausted, it would have caused more tears to be shed. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to care, and slowly, she forced herself back to her feet, wiping away the tears (and smudging the ruined makeup even further), she turned back to the door.
Her hand rested on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. But she finally found the courage she needed, cracking it open he was, destroying any hope she had clung to that maybe this was nothing more than a bad dream. His head snapped up at the sound of the opening door, and there was a look of hesitance there that she remembered well.
"I guess it really wasn't a good time," he told her. "I just…. I heard you were getting married, and I guess I wanted to see for myself… I suppose what I really wanted to do was apologise for everything that happened… and I.. um..."
He made a half gesture towards the bouquet of flowers, and she found that she had the urge to laugh at how ridiculous it all was. Of all the things she had planned for today, this had not been one of those things. She stepped aside, making room for him to enter the room, and he took the invitation. Once he was in, she closed the door behind him, a little more gently this time then the last. It clicked softly shut and Darcy turned to face him once more.
"It's been four years and you only just decided to show up?" she asked, a little surprised (and grateful), that her voice managed to remain steady throughout. "I was supposed to be getting married today. It's been four years, Tim. You can't just show up and expect everything to go back to how it once was. You walked out on me. You made it perfectly clear you didn't want whatever it was we had!"
Her voice rose a little at the end, and it took her a moment to steady herself again. He hadn't flinched through the exchange, but then again, she hadn't expected him too. Always so calm in the face of fire. Always the soldier. She wanted to slap him, wanted to rage at him, just to hear something, to get some sort of emotion out of him. But she kept her hand still by her side.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You were always there for me, and I was too blind at the time to see it," he replied, and she did flinch from the sincerity of his words. "I had to get out, Darcy. And yet I didn't even stop to think of what it would do to you. I was selfish and all I could do was think about myself. I went to see you, after I got back, but you'd moved. I had no idea where to even begin to look. Not until after…"
After he joined the Marshals. She didn't need him to fill that in for her, finally making the connection to the badge he wore. That at least answered one of the questions that had been buzzing around. But with one answered, she was sure there was more that arose unbidden. There was so much she wanted to say, but finding the words proved more difficult than she realised.
"I think it's time you go," she finally managed to tell him, her tongue feeling like lead in her mouth. Was that what she really wanted? She didn't know. She just knew this wasn't supposed to happen, that none of this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to be walking down the aisle in less than an hour and now… now she wasn't sure what she was going to do.
He gave a nod, as if he had expected that, setting her flowers aside. For a moment, she was reminded of the last time he'd left. Would it be any different this time around? Would she ever see him again? She had thought not, the last time, but here he was, standing in her bedroom once again.
"Tim," she began, and he paused, halfway to the door. "I'm sorry. For everything. I wish… I wish I could have seen you sooner."
"You and me both, Darcy," he told her. She watched his retreating figure leave the room, the feeling of melancholy settling over her like a dark wave. There would be no wedding, no happy smiles or laughing excitement. The wedding gown was nothing short of a mocking reminder that it should have been Tim standing at the end of the aisle. As she turned the ring over again in her hand, she knew that there would be no wedding today.
It hadn't been easy, telling Mike she was calling off the whole wedding. The man had been understandably confused, not sure why she had made this decision. And it wasn't something she could easily explain to him. She couldn't even really explain it to herself. Explaining Tim had always been difficult, though now more so than ever. She just knew that if she went through with it, she was going to regret it for the rest of her life. There were the guests to explain to, but Mike had offered to do that much for her. She had been right in her assessment of him. He really was a good man. He truly did deserve better than a fuck up like herself.
From there, she had no idea where to go. It was a small town, but whether he would stay was not something certain. In the end, it turned out easier to find him than she had anticipated. She had found him sitting on the hood of his truck on the outskirts of the town. She idled the engine back, slowly pulling in behind him, the rumbling sound of the motor the only thing to be heard. There was nothing to gain in putting it off any longer, and so she opened the car door, boots scuffing the dirt as she made her way to his side.
It was clear he had heard her arrive, though he hadn't even glanced back. Sliding onto the hood beside him, legs dangling over the edge, they sat there in silence. Her hand found his, covering it in a habit long forgotten. It was Tim that broke the silence first, glancing over at her.
"What happened to the dress?" It was a ridiculous question, she knew that, and this time there was no stopping the faint bubble of laughter from her chest.
"I decided it wasn't the best thing to start a manhunt in," she admitted to him, watching as he returned her a grin of his own. Her fingers involuntarily squeezed his, a reminder to herself he was real. "Figured jeans would be a better option."
The hand slipped out from under hers, only for his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Her head came to rest in the crook of his neck, letting her gaze linger on the setting sun. This was home, the piece that had been missing all that time. She realised that now. It seemed that they had both realised it. With her free hand, she fished through her pocket, withdrawing the ring, feeling him still at her side.
"I found it, after you left," she told him, lifting her head slightly, watching as he reached out to take the ring from her. "I didn't want to keep it, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it out, no matter how much I wanted to. Just like your letters. I sat there for a long time in front of the fire, trying to burn them, but I couldn't."
"I would have thought after everything you would have hated me." He was trying to sound nonchalant, as if it wouldn't have mattered either way, as if his little surprise visit meant nothing. She knew him better than that. It wasn't the first time he had shown up unannounced on her doorstep. "I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you had gotten rid of it all. After what I put you through, it would have been more than fair. I figured that was why the letters kept getting sent back. Now I guess I know the real reason for that. Kind of hard to receive letters if you don't live there anymore."
He lapsed back into silence, still turning over the ring in his fingers, before holding it out to her again. She took it, returning it to her pocket once more.
"So are you back for good this time?" she finally asked, the question pressing on her, the image of his badge flashing through her mind again. Because if he wasn't, all of this would be worth nothing. She wasn't sure she could accept that this time around.
"I got a job with the US Marshals in Lexington," he replied with a shrug, before giving her a faintly uncomfortable look. "Look, I know I have no right asking you this, not after the shit I put you through, but goddamn it, where the hell does this leave us? I'm going to understand completely if you tell me to fuck off, that you don't want to see me again after today. I'd probably do the same thing-"
She cut him off, her mouth finding his, like it had been only yesterday since she had last kissed him. There was a half strangled noise of disbelief on his behalf, but it lasted a moment before she found him kissing her in return. And when she pulled back, breathing a little harder than before, a half dazed look on both of their faces, she gave him a gentle smile.
"It leaves us with a second chance."