"When can we leave?"
"The train leaves in three days at six at night." Edward said as he unfolded a note in the envelope. "'After leaving Grand Central, a driver named Marcus will bring you to an apartment we own. Please stay there as long as you like so you can find a beautiful home to start your life together.'" He smiled, "I think we should go."
"But," she struggled for a rebuttal, "What of your mother?"
"She isn't here anymore, my love… She surrounds herself with disease and death… she won't be here for long…" a sigh, "I don't want you to be here anymore. I want us to begin our marriage properly, without having to wake up everyday wondering who we'll lose that day…" A breath, "I couldn't imagine losing you…"
"You won't lose me, darling. I'll always be with you." She smiled, "I do love New York."
"You get to be closer to your sister." He stroked her hair and gave her the envelope.
"I do have family still there." She smiled at him and nodded, "I'd love to!" He embraced her and kissed her cheek repeatedly.
"I love you so much my beautiful wife."
"I love you too my sweet husband."
They kissed lovingly and were only interrupted by the mail slot opening abruptly and paper free-falling to the floor. They glared at it like an unwelcome guest and Edward slowly moved to collect the pile of mail.
Among a few inane notices and one letter that was addressed to the building of the same number a three streets down, the morning paper came along with a fresh wave of melancholy in the form of the daily casualties section. After skimming the list quickly (attempting to rip the Band-Aid off as painlessly as possible), they found two unfortunate names: Edward Anthony Masen Sr. and Desidero Vivas (not near each other, of course). They then took a minute to set up the room for mourning. In a swift arm movement, Edward suffocated the afternoon light with muddy curtains and Cara asphyxiated the music with a lift of her finger and the candles of celebration and engagement morphed into those of death and sorrow. They sat together quietly and wept before drifting to a dark rest.
They awoke within seconds of each other and gave a weak smile. Edward kissed her head and rose from the ashen cushions, drawing the curtains away from the window. The night was as dark as their mood. Edward sighed and thought for a moment.
"What time is it?"
"Umm…" Cara rubbed her eyes and peered at the corner of the room at the standing clock, "One… nearly one thirty… wh—" A look of fear and angst crossed their eyes as the same moment.
"My mother." Edward said as Cara covered her mouth in shock.
They powered through the doors of the hospital, droplets of late rain running down their unbuttoned coats. Cara coughed discreetly a few times on the way and regained composure before speaking with the doctor.
"Has Elizabeth Masen been here today?" Cara asked.
"Visiting hours are well over, ma'am." A short receptionist snorted without looking up from her paperwork.
"Miss, please, I'm looking for my mother, has she been here today?"
"Please, sir, come again during—"
"Velma," a silky voice said sternly from Edward's side, the woman's head snapped up.
"Yes, Doctor Cullen?" she said batting eyelashes and leaning towards him as the lime blossoms lean towards the sun.
"I'll take it from here." Carlisle put a hand on Edward's shoulder, leading him towards the Purgatory on Earth.
"Doctor Cullen… My mother has been here for days, trying to see my father. But now he is gone and she has not come home."
"Edward…" Carlisle sucked in a breath, unsure of how to say it, "I have seen your mother. She began to cough violently and nearly fainted, we had no choice but to hold her here."
"How is she?" Cara asked softly, beginning to stroke Edward's back comfortingly.
"She is strong, we're doing all that we can." Carlisle looked at Edward with meaning, "I am doing everything possible." Edward nodded absent-mindedly.
"W-Where is she?"
They walked over to her. Somehow, they both found themselves producing more tears than before. Elizabeth slept, unconscious of the tears being shed on her bed.
When they returned home, they seemed more tired than before, but this time, neither was prepared for sleep. Cara felt that as Edward's fiancé and best friend, she had to try to comfort him. As the door closed, Cara immediately took his hands and kissed him with as much love and warmth as she could muster. He reciprocated, reluctantly at first, and eased. She pulled away and hugged him tightly, looking around them for some distraction, it presented itself.
"I didn't know you knew how to play chess." Cara said softly after a few more delicate kisses. He smiled a little.
"Learning. My father and I have been playing that game since I was seven." He sighed, "I suppose it will always be a draw." He looked down at the floor. She lifted his chin and kissed him softly.
"Maybe not." Cara walked over to the bookshelf it rested on and took it to the coffee table, "It's nearly in the endgame, we should finish." She sat at one side with hopeful eyes, he sat with her and within a few moves they stopped playing a game of strategy and played a game of lust.
~~~/~~~
Late that night, Cara stirred on the living room floor. They'd created a makeshift bed near the fireplace to keep warm. The infantile flames weakened and perished, darkening the room. She shivered and held the blanket closer to her bare chest. She opened her eyes slowly and coughed.
Once.
Twice.
A drop of blood on her wrist.
A tear in her right eye.
On the third cough, the next breath never came.
She struggled for a moment before nervously shaking Edward's arm.
"E-Ed-Edward… Edward!" she took laboured breaths as Edward was shaken out of a deserved slumber.
"W-What?" He turned and looked at her. She stopped talking and held her throat with one hand, the other clutched at his arm, "Cara, what's the matter?" He touched her cheeks, they burned with the same red intensity of its colour. He looked at her with feral eyes, "Cara!" he shook her shoulders a little.
"I…" another laboured breath, "can't breathe…" her eyes slowly closed and she fell faint. He caught her in his arms, screaming now.
"Cara! CARA!" he breathed swiftly, picking her up—as all husbands do with their brides—and ran from the townhouse towards the hospital. The white queen fell with the slam of the door.
...
Exciting things happening as this delightful story of ours progresses. First and foremost, I'd like to say that I have been including little tidbits of 'three' imagery here and there. You will notice that increase tenfold in the coming chapters. Its quite important because... well... no, I'll leave it, I wont tell you just yet, I'll let all my literary scholar readers out there guess. Anyway, more baby-fire imagery, no, Cara will not throw a baby in the fire, that's not the kind of story this is, it's much more complex. You should know that for many centuries, the game of chess has been known as a game for young couples, generally engaged or in love. Its a courting game, truly. I've played it which is why I can't imagine how it would be romantic, but I suppose if you are as hot for each other as our protagonists are then anything will really get you in the mood. Also, endgame is the final stage of chess. Its the point where the winner is clear and a checkmate is just round the corner. It's also a bit creepy. For me, it makes me think of the minutes before heading to the gallows and such, its very fear-provoking. Please read on my lovelies, cheers!