Chapter 3

This has been the worst week of my life.

Yeah, right, Rock snorted when I whined to him about this the other day over a case of beer on the solitude of the roof of my barn. You're marrying a gorgeous, feisty blonde with more experience than all the other chicks around here put together. Sucks to be you, alright.

And he's right. Muffy is absolutely stunning. She's got a body that any sane man would club baby seals for, and these huge blue eyes that are always laughing at you, and make you feel like you'd walk through a fire to see them do it again. Not to mention, piles of blonde hair that'd probably cover all the basics if she ever wanted to try the Lady Godiva thing.

Now, that would be a sight.

And she's sweet. She just is. She has this ingrained biological imperative to be best friends with everyone she meets, the day she meets them, and solve all of their personal problems within the week.

And she's funny. I've spent more time laughing this week than I have in the past two seasons.

She might not be the brightest girl, but she can hold a decent conversation.

I'm no wizard myself, and what guy wants a girl smarter than him, right?

So, yeah; she's perfect.

For anybody else.

In between meetings to feverishly plan out the meal with Ruby, and trips to town to see about buying a suit, and actually spending a second or two with the bride, my mind keeps wandering...somewhere else. I'll be in the middle of feeding, or cleaning out the barn, and images of light, silky fine brown hair and big brown eyes and this cute, tiny nose and constantly solemn expression and the most beautiful, graceful hands I've ever seen will drop on me like an anvil, and I'll have to sit down before I pass out from the effort to hold back a scream.

God, Lu, do you have any idea?

Sixteen years old, probably never kissed a boy, but one night with you and no one else'll do.

Jack, you fucking idiot. There were no flowers and hearts, and you damn well know that. Why the hell do you think she left?

Lumina...is special. In a little rural town like Forget-Me-Not, there aren't many people you can talk to about classical music, and the distinctions between Baroque and Classical and Romantic, and the respective strengths and weaknesses of the Bronte's. And I guess I like to harbour delusions that I'm a bit of a scholar.

Y'know, half-assed farmer, half-assed scholar, half-assed musician, half-assed chef. Gotta cover the basics.

And she's young, but she's brilliant. Far smarter than I was at her age, and far smarter than I am now if I was honest about it.

Which I'm not.

So, we became friends.

Romana was so grateful that I would take the time to visit her granddaughter. Lumina was so lucky to have an older, wiser friend like that nice boy Jack who runs the farm. I love the old lady – she gave me a cat, for God's sake – but she has it ass-backwards.

From Day One, Lumina put up with my hanging around to listen to her play, snooping through her books, and borrowing one if I could catch her in a good mood.

After a season, she'd actually gotten to the point that she'd leave off in the middle of a song when Sebastian let me in, and we'd spend all afternoon wandering through the village, talking about this book or that book, or the life of some composer she could barely pronounce but could play like a dream. I'm sure the composer himself is smiling in his grave somewhere, muttering that this kid's been inspired by the Angel of Music.

Hell, yeah, she's read Le Fantome de l'Opera. No translations for her, either. Read it in French. And she's sworn ever since that someday she's going to find her Erik.

I offered to throw a bucket of acid at Rock for her. She got mad and stormed home.

But she forgave me. It took five days of bringing her fresh flowers to put on top of the piano while she practiced to accomplish that miracle, but it happened. And we went back to being good pals.

Then, like an idiot, I started thinking about her the rest of the time, while my mind should've been on the crops and the animals, or on a woman who didn't still wear pyjamas with little bunnies, or on anything but the slight curves of her tiny figure underneath those loose blouses and tee-shirts, the faint pink glow of her cheeks and the way her bangs stick to her forehead on hot days, and the curve of those soft pink lips when I can get her to smile.

And damn it, she could tell. Of course she could; she's Lumina. She's too smart for her own good.

It was another couple weeks before everything went to Hell, though. We were on another walk, late in the evening, because a farmer in autumn doesn't have time to just take off for strolls with pretty girls. When we hit the waterfall, she stopped, and started blushing and muttering like she was trying to tell me something but the words were choking her, and finally she just grabbed me by the shirt and kissed me.

It was so sudden, so totally out of nowhere, I didn't have time to prepare myself to push her away, and before I knew what I was doing, I was pushing her back against a tree and one hand was on a very dangerous path down over her shoulder, to her breast. She made this little whimpering noise and pushed closer into my hand, and I lost it.

Everything after that was a haze of soft sweet lips and skin and hair brushing my shoulder, skinny little legs wrapped around my waist, because from that first kiss, I was too far gone with need for this girl to know for certain what was happening.

Until afterwards, when she disentangled and pushed me away and went to clean up by the river.

She didn't look away fast enough to hide the tears dripping down her cheeks, but when she turned away I did get a close-up on the little dribbles of blood staining through the back of her shirt, probably where the tree bark scraped her.

She let me take her inside and clean them, make sure they didn't get infected. She even let me walk her home after, and right before we got to the Villa, she looked like she wanted to say something. Selfish asshole that I was, even after taking advantage of her I couldn't bear to hear that she hated me, and muttered something about it's late and I need to get back.

So I went home and waited for a visit from the police.

The police didn't come, but she did, three times. Each time, I turned tail and ran, hid inside the house with the doors locked and the lights out until she gave up and left. I wouldn't have hid from the police, wouldn't even have hid from Romana, and after what I did to her granddaughter, I'd rather face an army than her wrath.

But I couldn't face her. I couldn't trust myself to look her in the eye without hurting her again, so I hid like a coward and eventually she went away.

The third time, for good.

I ventured back into the village after a few days, because I'd had enough of dealing with this without alcohol. Went straight to the Blue Bar, and found out from Rock that Lumina had all but fled town.

Trip around the world with an aunt in better condition to travel than her grandma.

Thought she might go to school in Europe afterwards, if the auditions went well.

I don't know whether it was relief or despair that punched me in the gut when I heard that. Maybe it was just the drink. I swear there was Lysol in it or something.

Long after Jack had left, I was still there, downing drink after drink until Muffy suggested kindly that I might want to slow down.

I think I must've told her to go to Hell, because she gave me a good slap, before dragging me outside for some fresh air.

That was the first night we spent wandering aimlessly until dawn.

And after a season, I came to a decision.

I already said I'm a selfish asshole, right? What other kind of guy would propose to a good friend because he couldn't stand the thought of an empty house and a lifetime to wallow in his own pathetic guilt? I knew that I wasn't in love with Muffy, and I still do. I found the only girl I can love, did something terrible to her, and lost her.

And for good reason. The safest place for Lu is far away from me. And she deserves a lot better than a life on a farm, anyway. She's brilliant, and she's talented, and the whole world's going to know her name someday.

I'm not afraid for Muffy; she's a hell of a lot tougher than she looks. My cheek still hurts where she slapped me.

I think she's enjoyed the last season, too. And I know she's dying to get married.

Maybe that'll be enough to make us happy.

Speaking of my blushing bride, here she is. Just let herself in while I was brooding like an idiot. She bids me a cheery good evening, gives me a special protein drink she and Griffin mixed up because they thought I'd been looking pale lately, and then kisses me.

Shit. Last time a girl did this, it did not end well.

But Muffy knows what she's doing, and before long, my shirt is untucked and she's working at my belt, and hell, I'm not complaining.

I pull her close for another kiss, and when we finally have to break it or pass out from reduced oxygen to the brain, I rest my cheek at her forehead and breathe her name.

Double-shit. She pulls back and now she's staring at me like I've got two heads, and finally it occurs to me that I just called her Lumina.

Okay, Muffy, go ahead; slap me. If you really want to, I'll hold still while you clobber me with a chair. I don't think you'd have the stomach to do what I really deserve right now.

But apparently, Muffy's got a little more class than that, and just pretends it didn't happen.

Or tries to, anyway.

Finally, she just gives up in despair and says something about having an early day tomorrow, so she thinks she's going to head home now.

As the door closes behind her, I lock up and then proceed to bang my head against the heavy wood until my whole forehead goes numb.

Did I mention that this has been the worst week of my life?

End Notes: O-kay. This chapter scared the crap out of me to write. I know what I needed to get across, but I have no idea if it makes any earthly sense as it is. And I'm really hoping that the anguish I'm putting the characters through now makes up for the fact that this is all turning out to just be one big misunderstanding, with an inevitable happy ending.

My other big problem is whether or not Jack's character voice is consistent throughout his section. That's the problem with a character that never talks: it's up to the author to establish a lot of his characterization, and I suck at consistency when I'm not working from an existing character.