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“Okay.” We leave with the dogs, put them to sleep, then head up to bed, but I can't drift off.
I can’t get Giselle out of my mind.
Knight and Giselle’s story was full of sorrow, but it was also full of love.
As I watch night turn into day, I realize my problem, and it’s not that I’m jealous of Giselle as a person.
I’m jealous that she was the keeper of all the parts of Knight I can’t touch.
The parts I can’t own with the ring on my finger.
Those are the sacred parts of his heart that make him create art inspired by her.
No matter what Knight and I have become, I will probably never own those parts of him, because we are a contract waiting to expire.
The thought hits me with a wave of desolation, and I realize the crux of my problem is that Idon’twant us to end.
The hard truth opens my eyes to this paradox I’ve fallen in. It’s one I never saw coming and never thought I’d have to worry about.
I don’t need to be told the Giselle and Knight would have been forever, it feels like that was a given.
But I’m just the temporary wife.
I get out of the bed and head down to the beach, where I sit for hours. As it’s Saturday, I don’t have to worry about going anywhere else for the day.
I sit there and think about what I’m doing, and what I’ll do when I reach the end of my marriage.
It’s funny how I’ve sat on this beach so many times wondering how I would survive living with Knight, yet now I’m wondering how I’m supposed to stop loving him.
It starts to drizzle, so I make my way back to the house, but damn me, just as I’m walking by the workshop, I'm drawn to go in.
Given my mood, I should keep walking and avoid the place, but as I’ve always succumbed to curiosity and all things bad for me, I go inside.
I head straight to the main statue of Giselle and stop before her. As usual, she's looking at me with that spark in her eyes. That radiance for life Knight captured so well, I can only imagine how many hours he must have spent staring at her.
As I observe her, I wonder what it must have been like for her to go through so much pain. What did she feel when she knew she was going to die and leave the man she loved behind?
Knight loved her, but she obviously loved him back. I can see it in her eyes.
"I see you found your way to the truth," a syrupy voice says from the door, shocking the hell out of me.
I nearly jump out of my skin but compose myself when I turn and find Chelle standing there.
She comes closer, holding a stack of folders to her chest. I’m surprised to see her here so early, but those folders are probably something Knight asked her to bring by.
She must have seen me come in here and decided to follow and torture me.
I’ve been thankful not to have any run-ins with her since the wedding, but from the I’m-the-head-bitch look on her face, it seems she’s back in action.
“Is there something I can help you with, Chelle?” I ask, keeping my tone level.
“Nope.” She smiles wide. “Seeing you looking at dear old Giselle is plenty enough. It looks like you figured out like the rest of us that you can't compete with the dead girlfriend."
Her words hit me like a left hook to my gut, and I try to mask the truth with a hard glare.
“Why would I need to compete? I'm Knight’s wife.” I really, really try to sound confident, but I know I don’t. So does she.
“Oh, please. Knight would've marriedherthe proper way. She would've been proposed to, in some grand hall with the world watching. He would've put her on a pedestal for everyone to see and know that he madethatgirl his wife. You are just a contract, Aurora Wright.” The sourness in her voice grips me to my core, as does her use of my maiden name. “It's only a matter of time before you see there is no competition with Giselle.”
