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I didn’t even know I wanted love and happily ever afters. Not until I ruined the first real chance I’ve ever had at it by lying and running away.
I was a mess when I left the hotel. It took me weeks to stop wasting entire days thinking of him. And now, it's only my sleep he haunts. I have vivid dreams where I can feel him inside me. In my dreams I talk to him. I tell him everything and he still wants to kiss me and touch me.
I wake up in the middle of the orgasms that his mouth or fingers or cock have brought me to only find myself alone, cold, and unbearably sad.
If he knew the truth about me, he wouldn't kiss me. He wouldn't want to hold me and he certainly wouldn't touch me the way he did. No one would. So, I live a lie and I know that nothing can grow in the shadow and darkness my deceit has created.
Leaving in the way I did was shitty, but it was the right thing to do. There was too much dishonesty. I was starting to have real feelings for him and there was no future in it. He would have been disgusted once he’d found out how much I lied to him. The woman he thought he wanted to keep seeing doesn’t exist.
I regret leaving the way I did, but it’s a wasted emotion. I'm never
going to see him again, so there's no way for me to make it up to him. And as amazing as the time we spent together was, I don't know if I was just one in many for him. He’d been engaged before, whether he loved her or not, he’d been in a relationship for years.
One of my coping tools over the last few months has been to tell myself that what I felt was one-sided and that he was just doing what men do—fuck the women they find attractive.
But then, I recall the real tenderness in his eyes, the feather light touches of his hands on my cheek as he wiped away my tears and I know I let something special slip from my grasp. Regret may be a wasted emotion, but I feel it in spades every time I think of him.
The sudden slamming of the car's brakes sends me flying forward in my seat and shakes me out of my thoughts. Freya's hand comes across my chest as if she could stop me from flying out the window with it.
I glance at her and she moves it back to the steering wheel. Her eyes are wide, but her smile is bright.
"You two okay? I'm sorry, a herd of stag ran by and I was afraid they were going to dart into the road," she says a breathlessly.
"A what of what?" I ask, looking around but not seeing anything but the still quiet woods that line either side of the road.
"A herd of stag, stag are male deer. And they usually lead the herd, so I'm assuming the females are close behind. I need to keep an eye out. Nothing is more devastating than hitting a deer...for both the animal and the car," she says grimly.
"Oh, but venison makes the most delicious stew," Jan sing songs happily behind me.
"We're almost there." Freya peers out of her windshield as if it's snowing heavily. It's not. It must have fallen after they left because our tires are the first to drive over the fresh snowfall. The snow and the near miss with the deer have clearly affected her confidence and she’s driving more slowly now, her focus fully on the road.
We ride in a blissful silence the rest of the way. As the snow-covered landscape rolls by, I use the quiet to relax and prepare myself. I know I'll need to have my "Lilly" face on when we get to their house. Good old Lilly, happy, warm, and strong. It's an exhausting act, but I play the role every time I see them. They never notice that it's a veneer, strong but so thin.
She takes a slow turn on a lane that appears out of nowhere off the main road and my breath catches in my throat. The trees that line both sides of the road have branches that meet in the middle, creating a snow covered arbor that stretches out ahead of us. It feels like we've entered an enchanted forest.
"This is beautiful," I breathe out. The knot of unease that usually has a permanent home in the center of my chest eases slightly. This place feels like home.
"Thank you. It is. Isn't it?” I can hear the pride in her voice and I completely understand it. This place is spectacular. “Our family has lived on this land for hundreds of years and this is one of the original features of the estate."
The sunlight breaks through the branches and gives the road a halo as we drive down it.
"I've enjoyed driving up and down it all week. We don't live in the main house anymore, so I don't have occasion to drive up this way often. At night fairy lights come on and it's stunning."
"So, where do you all live?" I ask thinking it’s only polite since she'd opened the door.
"We live in the cottages that used to be occupied by the estates tenants. The blacksmith’s, different farmers, head of the village schools, all sorts. The only one we still maintains is the vicarage."
"I still live in the house. Me, and Mr. Barryman - the Butler, and the staff that keeps the house running all year round do—below the stairs, of course," Jan pipes up from the back.
She might as well be speaking Greek, but it sounds fascinating to me and I laugh as I say: "Oh, it's like Downton Abbey for real."
“Yes, but without all the scandal,” Freya says proudly.
When we exit the tunnel of trees, the sun's bright light bounces off the brilliant snow creating a soft white glow that momentarily blinds me. But when the fog lifts, my laughter dies in my throat as the biggest house I've ever seen in my life comes into view.
"Oh my God, it's a castle!" I exclaim, as I take in the moss-covered, stone and glass behemoth that sits on the crest of the hill we're climbing. We're still on the same narrow drive, but we're abutted on either side by what looks like open pastured dotted with tiny stone statues and buildings. This part of the drive is dotted with fully decorated Christmas trees. As we pass the first pair, I realize they're all at least ten feet tall. I’m awestruck.
"What are those?" I point at the structures that dot snow covered grass stretching as far as the eye can see.
