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“Is this your final decision?”
“Yes. You’ll have Killian and I’ll Simon and my baby. It’s the best decision for both of us,” she said, resolute and unswerving when it came to her decision.
I grasped her hands in mine, squeezing.
God, I hoped so.
Two days later, Gracelynn walked into my room without knocking, her grey eyes shining with mischief. “A package from Killian,” she said, handing me the small, well-wrapped box. “It was addressed to Gracelynn. But we both knew who Gracelynn was to him. So, I believe this is yours.”
“A gift,” I gasped, taking the package from her and practically tearing through the wrapping. I opened the box, delving through all the muslin papers to find an antique looking hardcover. “Holy shit. Is that?”
My eyes darted to the thick, black spine. I already knew what the title would say, but somehow needed confirmation. When my gaze landed on the bold letters, I let out a barely audible gasp. Too in shock to even make a sound.
Wuthering Heights.
No way! This couldn’t possibly be.
“Woah,” Gracelynn breathed.
My breathing stuttered as I opened the first page, carefully… almost too scared to accidentally rip a page. A paper, folded in half, slid onto my lap and I blinked, confused. A letter? I unfolded it to find Killian’s careful and fine penmanship.
To my wife-to-be,
Two weeks ago, you spoke of your love for Edgar Allan Poe and the Brontë sisters. The way your grey eyes shone fierce with such eagerness in that moment, I knew what I had do.
We are engaged to be married, but I realized that while I courted you, there were no presents or flowers. I apologize, Princess.
This is me trying to rectify my shortcomings.
Therefore, here’s my first courting gift to you.
A rare copy of the first American edition of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.
“It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles,
but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.”
I remember…
Your fiancé,
Killian Spencer.
My heart thundered in my chest, almost like it was trying to escape through my rib cage.
I had thought Killian was bored while I had talked endlessly about my love for anything classic, especially Edgar Allan Poe and the Brontë sisters. I remembered him staring into my face, without saying a word, just listening. And that had made me pause, thinking that he probably found it annoying, and boring so I had switched the topic to something else.
But…
Killian was truly listening.
“He remembered my… favorite quote from the book. I only told him once, but he remembered,” I whispered, both shocked and pleased.
“Your fiancé is nuts!” my sister exclaimed. “Do you know how much this cost?”
“What?” I looked up to find her staring at her phone, gaping. Gracelynn shook her head, her jaw went slack. She turned her phone toward me, showing me her screen and her recent google search.
“This was up on an auction last week in London. A rare copy of the first edition of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights,” she explained. “The highest bidder was an American and you know what the bid was? Nine thousand pounds. Which is approximately twelve thousand dollars!”
I gaped. “No,” I breathed, appalled.
“Yes!” Gracelynn declared, before laughing.
“This is too much.” I shook my head, carefully placing the book back into the box.
Gracelynn rolled her eyes and she flicked me on the forehead. “Killian is courting you. Accept the gift. And he’s filthy rich, anyway. He can afford this and much more.”
Yes, but still…
Long after Gracelynn had left the room, I was still staring at the box. There was a phantom of an ache in my chest, delving in my heart and feeding into my soul.
Killian was so thoughtful.
And my deception was poison.
Killian,
Your gift is very thoughtful.
I can’t believe you remember my favorite quote from Wuthering Heights. In fact, I can’t believe you were actually listening to everything I said. I had believed that I bored you with my endless talking about classic poetry and novels.
I miss you, but I know that you’re busy. And now that Coal is well-trained, there’s no reason for you to come to the Romano’s Estate every day. When will we see each other again?
At least once before the party my father is throwing this weekend?
Yours truly,
Your wife-to-be.
A second letter came the next day, bearing another gift.
Five hundred pink ranunculus. Enough to cover every surface of Gracelynn’s room – which should have been my room. But a secret was a secret. To my father, Killian’s fiancée was Gracelynn.
My Gracelynn,
It appears that we won’t see each other until this weekend. My father and I are flying to Chicago tomorrow morning – duty calls, Princess.
Today’s courting gift is ranunculus.
I hope you like this shade of pink. I was able to find a farm where they planted unique flowers. So, I handpicked all five hundred of these ranunculi myself.
The mad things we do when we’re in love…
You’ve enchanted me, Princess.
