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She sighs. “They’re fairy tales, Liam. Wishes from kids who didn’t know any better.”
“It is not a fairy tale,” I say. “Fairy tales are fantasy. This is reality. And I intend to keep these promises.”
She sighs. “How?” She holds up the one about marriage. “You don’t even know who is going to marry who. What if it isn’t you? What if your parents pick Luca instead?”
My heart squeezes tight, like she reached out and squeezed it with her own bare hands. “That won’t happen.”
She clutches the paper tight, like it’s her only lifeline. Even if she says she believes it’s all a fairy tale, she still clings to the hope that maybe these promises could save her when nothing else could. “But what if it does?”
I grab her face and caress her cheek. “I won’t allow that to happen.”
Her face contorts, and she pulls away from me. “You don’t have that power. None of us do.”
“My parents listen to me,” I reply.
She gets up and turns around. “They won’t, trust me.”
“I will make them pick me,” I growl, getting up too.
Suddenly, she spins on her heels and turns to face me. “I don’t want you to!”
I’m flabbergasted, too shocked to even respond.
“Why would you say something like that?” she growls. “Why would you want to sacrifice yourself for your family?”
I wince. Out of all people, she should understand. “It’s not a sacrifice. It’s duty.”
She snorts. “Don’t give me that shit, Liam. You know as well as I do you want nothing to do with their business.”
“No, but if I have to, I’ll—”
“Well, I do! I want to be the next in line,” she spits. “And I don’t want you to save me.” I can see the pain in her eyes as they fill with tears, but nothing I do or say will make it go away.
“Stop playing the knight in shining armor,” she adds, her voice fluctuating in tone from all the emotions, and it tears me apart.
So much that I go back onto my knees in front of the box, rip out an empty piece of paper, and take out the pencil we left inside. And I scribble down the words as fast as I can, not giving a shit that they are barely legible and come out crooked as fuck.
“What are you doing?” Jasmine mutters behind me, but I take no second to answer.
When I’ve put down the dot, I fish my knife from my pocket and puncture my skin, pressing down my thumb onto the paper without giving it a second thought.
I hold up the paper. “Read it. Out loud.”
She stands, taller than ever but broken inside, the gentle wind flowing through the thin fabrics of her lilac dress almost enough to make her bend through the knees.
“We will always let each other have what we want. No matter the cost.”
Present
* * *
There aren’t many memories clear as day, but those involving Jasmine couldn’t be any clearer to me. Like a tether to a reality that once was mine.
What I want is her.
The memory of her.
The girl I used to dream about every single night.
