"Marius?" she whispered, and met his eyes. She wanted to ask him something, but was embarrassed to say it, lest it make her sound like a child. She blushed.

"Yes, darling?" He spoke tenderly, and she was pushed to move on.

"I was wondering if you could stay here tonight? I'm just worried I'll be terribly lonely-"

He held up his hand once she tried to explain herself. "Of course I will." When he was sick, he had slept there for many months. Even once he was better, he had stayed in the guest bedroom until he found a place of his own. The room had essentially become his.

After he accepted, Cosette felt a rush of relief. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"Anything."

For a few minutes they sat in silence. Despite Marius promising to stay that night, Cosette felt her tears continue to ebb and flow, ebb and flow, until she couldn't stand the cycle any longer and was getting embarrassed by her behavior. I've got to get myself under control, she told herself. I'm getting married tomorrow, with or without my father. She wiped away her tears and, though she had always hoped to be escourted down the aisle by her father, she had no choice but to do it alone. And if this was the price she had to pay to marry Marius, so be it.

"I should go to bed," she said, standing up. "We both have a very important day ahead of us." They smiled at each other, and she felt happy for the first time since Marius had told her the news. "I'll just go tell the housekeeper that you're staying, and she can light the fire in your room. I think everything else is still in order." As always, once Cosette had a task to set her mind on, she felt better. For the next couple minutes, she bustled about with a concentrated look on her face, making sure everything was alright for Marius to stay the night. Watching her, Marius felt a rush of affection and protectiveness. Despite himself, he felt anger to her father for making her hurt this way, for he could see that even in her small actions she was feeling broken. He recognized the tone in her voice from when she busied herself with his recovery, and would speak under her breath to him. Though he was still sick, there were memories he had of Cosette patting his forehead with a wet cloth, and smoothing his bedclothes.

Right before she went upstairs to retire, Marius reached for her forearm and pulled Cosette to him, watching her eyes widen in surprise before she smiled up at him.

"Goodnight," he whispered, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. A wisp of her brown hair had come undone from the loose braid that she had wound her hair into, and he tucked it behind her ear, enjoying the blush that played across her cheeks.

"Goodnight," she whispered back. "I'll see you tomorrow..."

Closing the door behind her, Cosette slipped between the sheets of her bed. She was not worried about Marius seeing her tomorrow: customs said they weren't supposed to. But she knew from the other nights he had spent in her house that she woke earlier than he did. She planned on leaving early for the church, so she could get ready there. She wold probably be gone once he woke up.

She tried to read a book for awhile to get her mind on other things, but it didn't work. Either she would think about the coming day (and night, of course) and her stomach would clench in nerves and excitement, or she would think of her father and her mind would cloud over in sadness. Finally she gave up and blew out her candles.

Her thoughts were a tangles snarl in her brain. Papa.. she would think, and tears would spill over her eyes. Then she would roll over and try to think of something else. What if I trip and fall in the aisle tomorrow? She asked herself, thinking it was a perfectly innocent question. Someone will catch me, she assured herself. But then she thought, further. It won't be papa. He won't be there. She could see his face, as though the picture was permanently etched inside her eyelids: the kind creases around his eyes, tufts of white hair, his large arms perfect for enveloping her in a warm hug. Now that she was alone, she had no reason to keep her emotions in check. Slowly but steadily, the tears flowed, until her cheeks were very wet, and the pillowcase was as well. She turned the pillow over so that it was dry, buried her face into it to muffle the sounds, and started to sob. For many minutes or hours- she wasn't sure- Cosette lay alone crying and trying to explain to herself why her father had left her. Her eyes stung from the tears and her throat was scratchy. She tried hugging the pillow closer to her, but no matter what she did, she only felt more and more alone.

The night before her wedding, she was supposed to be obsessing over the next day. She was supposed to be worried about her wedding night, and thinking over what she was supposed to do the following day. But instead she was not acting like a bride. A part of her was glad that these petty worries had been taken away. her father leaving had put everything into perspective, and any qualms about the next twenty-four hours were meaningless. She was marrying Marius, after all, and there was nothing to worry about. What those worries had been replaced with, however, was a different matter altogether.

How could he do this?

She was suddenly gripped with the unshakable desire to see Marius. He would be asleep by now, surely? I'll just quietly go into his room and see if he's awake. If he's not, I'll be sure not to wake him up, she told herself. She secretly hoped he was asleep. All she wanted to do was see him, and if he was asleep, then no questions would be asked. And he was the only person who could make her feel better right now.

Tiptoeing out of bed and not bothering with a candle, she slipped from her bedroom and made her way down the hall. She hadn't put anything on her feet, and they were growing cold very quickly. She shivered. Sneaking out of bed like this reminded her of when Marius was sick: she would spend nearly all day at his bedside, leaving only for meals. She would watch his face for signs of life until late into the night, when her father would come in and make her go to bed. But as soon as Cosette was sure he was asleep, she would sneak back into Marius' room and lay next to his weak and unconscious form, praying for him to wake up. On more than one occasion she had fallen asleep there, only to wake early in the morning and rush back into her bedroom before her father could find her.

It seemed that every memory she had- even those of Marius- were touched with memories of her father. Even her memories of her and Marius in the garden where they spoke for the first time reminded her of her papa: after all, her father was the one she had spent most of her time with in that garden.

She cracked open the door and slipped inside.

"Cosette?" came Marius' whisper from across the room.