Marcus
...My Forgotten Love...
Chapter Five
Marcus wished fate could have been kind to him and allowed him to keep his piece of heaven, but like everything else in his life, it was ripped from him.
She had gone into labour two months early.
No one had contacted him.
His father had sent no messenger.
His love had died alone. Without him.
The utter rage and despair that had gripped him could not be described. They had been forced to remove Maryann for her own safety as more than once in the days following that fateful night he had tried to beat her.
He had just wanted the pain to stop.
He couldn't live.
At first he had felt panic and fear, then sadness, then rage, then nothing.
He fell into a sort of numbness that must only come when you fully comprehend your heart and soul are gone.
He would sit in front of the fire they had often made love in front of, clutching her gown which still had her scent upon it and weep.
He lost count of the number of his acquaintances who had seen him holding her gowns to his face and crying as if his heart was being ripped out at that moment.
After the tears, had come the rage.
Bitter, twisting rage.
He hated his father, he hated Maryann, he hated them all.
Every time he had seen Maryann large with his child he would snap and need to be restrained.
"I don't want it!!" he would yell, he didn't want her. Why did that babe thrive?
His lost baby had not been one, but two. Twins. Like William and he had been.
He saw the doctor loading the coffins onto the carriage.
Three. Two small wooden ones, no bigger than a foot. And hers...
He had even grown angry at himself for a while.
He had hated himself for ever touching her, for ever wanting their baby. His selfish love had taken from him everything.
His love had been buried with no ceremony, and a simple grave stone. His sons had received neither, he knew not what had happened with their tiny bodies or where they lay now.
He hoped close to their mother. She would have liked that.
His feelings from that time were still fresh, still aching.
He knew he could never love Maryann. He doubted he could fully accept his son, but he had tried with his son, Nicolae. His love would have hated him if he neglected his son as he had once been by his father.
He spent time with the child occasionally, but he found the boy too spoiled by his mother.
In true Van Keen fashion everything was over the top and lavish with them.
He once again realised he would have given up everything and anything to have her instead.
Since then he had begun raising an army of vampires to help him bring his brother back to him, after he had escaped.
His brother was the only thing left he loved.
Marcus began his meditation for his slumber till his awakening. His final thought was of her.
His love.
His love who no one knew anymore.
Who's name was no longer known, and was forgotten.
Grace.