Choosing Eternity Read online

  “I don’t know if Tommie will want to attend,” said Bran gently.

  That hurt. But I understood. I didn’t want to cause Tommie one more ounce of pain. I nodded resolutely. “That’s all right…she doesn’t have to come. But the others? If they’d like?”

  “I know they would,” said Bran, inclining her head to us. “Anything else, Rose?”

  I took a deep breath, let it out.

  “Whatever happened to my wedding dress?” I asked her.

  ---

  “Rose…” Gwen stared at me, eyes wide. If she hadn’t already been sitting down on the edge of her bed, I assumed she would have had to sit down on it right about now or possibly risk a collapse.

  She stared up at me, and she appeared to be in a sort of shock, her mouth having fallen open, her face utterly disbelieving with that furrowed brow and that expression of “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  But I really, really needed her to believe me.

  “I know it sounds impossible. I know…I know it sounds out of this world.” I shook my head, and I knelt down in front of my best friend, balling my hands into fists and placing them on my knees as I leaned toward her, beseeching. “Trust me…if you were telling me this story right about now, I’d have a hell of a hard time believing you. And…I don’t claim to know how it’s all possible. But what I’m telling you really happened to me, Gwen.” I grimaced as I said this next part: “I…remembered my past life. And I know that sounds woo woo and—”

  She lifted a hand, lips pursed together. “Not woo woo. I mean…I’m a new age chick, right? Got a crystal collection. I believe in chakras, ghosts…” She trailed off, her eyes widening. “But, Rose…this is all so hard to swallow, you know? I find out last night that we’re living in a house full of vampires. I mean, vampires!” The chuckle she let out just then sounded a bit hysterical. “And now you’re telling me you’re this vampire’s long lost love? And you have a doppelganger who is parading around right now and threatening to kill you? That’s a bit much for anyone to swallow.”

  “My ‘doppelganger’ isn’t really me,” I said emphatically, my voice practically a snarl, and I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, it just really pisses me off that she’s taken my damn face, after everything else that happened. It’s just the straw that broke the camel’s back, you know?”

  “Hm…I feel like there may have been other straws,” said Gwen mildly, shaking her head. “Like, all of them.”

  We stared at one another, and then—at the exact same time—we started to chuckle a little, weary and breathless.

  “God, this is crazy. This is absolutely crazy,” Gwen breathed. “But, dude…I was attacked by vampires. I was right there and I saw them and…I know I’m not making that up. And you don’t make shit up. So…” She trailed off, stared at me with wide eyes. “You’re really getting married? To her? It doesn’t seem…sudden?”

  “I mean, it’d be sudden if we were just going on this life.” I said with a little shrug, trailing off. “But we’re…not. I have multiple lives with Kane, multiple times I’ve loved her…it’s love that drew me back to her…” I sighed, took a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it, but it’s real. Our love story is over a century in the making. And I know that sounds far fetched, believe me…but, it’s true.”

  Gwen leaned back on her hands on the coverlet and raised a single brow. “All right. I totally believe you. You’ve got this…look on your face. I’ve never seen it before, and it’s pretty awe-inspiring. Makes me want to go out and find my one-true-love guy, and I’ve never thought I was the marrying sort.” She made a little sniff, and her eyes were watery, like she was about to start crying, but she checked herself, stood, winced and put her hand over her ribs. “God, this hurts.”

  “Sit back down,” I commanded her, and then helped her back into a seated position on the bed, Gwen wincing all the way. She grimaced and glanced up at me with a sigh.

  “They gave me stitches and pain killers, and I just feel like there weren’t enough pain killers, and who do you really complain to about that?” she chuckled weakly, her breath shuddering out of her. “I’ve never had stitches before in my life, and the doctor was all like, ‘yeah, stitches in your side are the worst, sorry ‘bout it,’ and I was like ‘how about more pain killers then,’ and he just laughed because he thought I was joking. Super, super, super not joking.”

  I chuckled at that, sitting alongside her. I was so weak with relief that it was nothing more serious, that Gwen was all right—though, to be fair, I was wracked with guilt that she’d had to get stitches because of me…

  But Gwen had been my best friend for eons (give or take) and knew what I was thinking. “Hey,” she said, raising a brow and grasping my hands into her lap and giving them a squeeze. “Don’t worry about me, all right? If you’ll remember correctly, it’s because of me you’re even here, right? So, I’m totally like…a minion of fate or something.” Her eyes lit up. “Do you think I can put that on my resume?”

  “Sure,” I muttered, giving a little chuckle, but I shook my head. “I mean, yes, I’m thankful you brought me here, but it’s because of me that the vampires came after us, Gwen, not you. You being hurt…that’s a hundred percent my fault.”

  Gwen wrinkled her nose. “No, pretty sure it’s the fault of the asshole vampires who came after us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, seriously.” Gwen sighed. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. What’s done is done. It’s not your fault. Case closed.”

  I sighed, too, and then the two of us stared straight ahead for a moment in silence.

  “Are you going to still leave?” I asked her quietly.

  There was silence for a moment more. I didn’t dare glance sidelong at my best friend.

  We stared straight ahead and were quiet.

  Until:

  “I mean, no. I was pretty pissed about the whole vampire’s almost killing us part, but now you’ve got this mega love story thing on your hands and you’re getting married—would seem like a pretty shitty time to leave at this point,” said Gwen, raising her eyes to the heavens.

  I leaned toward her, jubilant, and hugged her fiercely.

  “Ah, ah, gentle with the merchandise,” wheezed Gwen, wincing horribly.

  “God, I’m sorry,” I said, and loosened my grip as Gwen held her side, paling.

  “Don’t mention it,” she grimaced, then grinned a little, taking a deep breath. “So, when’s the big day?”

  I blinked at her.

  “Dude, your marriage. When are you getting hitched to sexy vampire lady?” asked Gwen, leaning back on her hands on the coverlet again.

  I blinked again, breathed out. After telling her the entire story, I’d left out one tiny, pressing detail…

  “Um…” I glanced at the clock above Gwen’s bookcase. “In, like, an hour.”

  She stared at me.

  “Yeah, so, at this dance thing…there’s a danger that I might be killed. Sort of. Just a little danger,” I said, holding up my fingers and holding them apart about an inch. I gave her a sheepish smile. “So we’re getting married just in case anything happens, because the last time we tried to get married…I died before it could actually happen.”

  I thought Gwen was going to tell me this was a terrible idea. She’s a spontaneous person, it’s true, but she also really, really enjoys planning big, fun parties. But she nodded thoughtfully after considering it for a long moment. “Yeah,” she sighed begrudgingly, “it makes sense.”

  “And then Kane’s going to turn me into a vampire,” I continued with a huge smile, not skipping a beat.

  Gwen stared at me, and then she flopped onto her back on the bed, laughing again with a slight hysterical edge to it. “Sure,” she finally said, brandishing her hands in the air. “Sure.” She turned and pressed her weight into an elbow, regarding me with a stern look. “But that doesn’t give me much time to give you a talk on the birds and bees, missy.”

  “I’ve got that cove
red, thanks,” I said with a brow raised.

  “Just remember,” said Gwen, brandishing a finger at me, “your wedding night is super special. So you’d better enjoy the hell out of it!”

  “I’m going to try,” I said with a little shrug. “I mean…I don’t know what comes after it, is the problem.” I swallowed a little. My mouth was suddenly dry as the events of my death played back for me in slow motion in my mind.

  That was a little tough to hold in my head…and wondering if something similar was going to happen to me tonight. Kane was right. Vampires weren’t immortal. They could be killed. And if Magdalena was angry enough, she could kill me…couldn’t she?

  I had to try to stay in the moment, had to try to be as brave as possible.

  My happiness was taken away from me once before.

  I’d be damned if I let someone take it away again.

  A brief, soft knock emanated from Gwen’s door. She gestured a hand toward it, and I nodded, rising, going to the door for her.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “Bran.”

  I opened the door, ushered her inside. For her part, Bran took a moment to make her way into the room.

  She was dragging a large, ironbound trunk behind her. It looked like one of those old steamer trunks that luxurious actresses from the nineteen twenties might have used, though there were no port stamps or stickers along the sides. Rather, it was bound snugly with iron strips and padlocked with five different locks that I could count.

  “Sorry it took me a little while—I had to drag this out of the attic,” Bran sighed, letting the trunk rest in the middle of the room and sagging against it. She took a handkerchief out of the breast pocket of her jacket and mopped her forehead as she gestured to the trunk. “But Kane assures me that this is probably it. There weren’t other locked trunks up there, so…”

  “This…is where she kept my dress?” I asked her wonderingly, crouching in front of the padlocks.

  “Yes,” said Bran simply, and also from her suit jacket pocket, she produced one old skeleton key. “This should open all of them,” she said.

  And so I set about opening the locks.

  They were dusty and rusty from disuse (and probably less than ideal conditions stored up in an attic for over a hundred years). The last one gave me a little trouble, so Bran crouched beside me and helped me turn the key. And then the locks were in a pile on the floor, and all I had to do was open it.

  My palms were damp as I leaned forward, as I pushed the trunk lid open.

  There were pieces of soft paper, overlaying the top, and a bundle of dried lavender. I pushed these things gently aside, and my fingertips brushed against sumptuous satin.

  I dug my fingers into the garment and brought it into the light.

  “Wow,” Gwen breathed.

  I couldn’t find the energy to say a word. I simply stared down at the dress in my hands, speechless.

  Dreams and memories are one thing, but the details of everything were hazy, to say the least. Especially details of clothing. Here and now, I held the real thing. And it was breathtaking. Tiers and tiers of red satin made up the sweeping train of the dress, and the skirts were more of the same, decadent wraps and folds of satin that took my breath away in their elegance and decadence. Along the neckline was the softest, hand tatted lace, done up in different shades of midnight black, one a little more blue-toned than the others, one a little more red-toned. It made the lace seem as if it was shimmering with iridescence.

  The sleeves were puffed sleeves and led down to little middle finger loops that would go about my finger, drawing the sleeves down into a peak upon my hands.

  The thing weighed quite a great deal, as had most dresses in the Victorian era. I held it up in front of me, and after I’d gotten done marveling at its exquisite craftsmanship, I glanced at the narrow waist and grimaced.

  “Bran, I don’t think I can fit in that,” I said, turning.

  “Well…” Bran said, slowly, carefully, “Melody wouldn’t have been able to either. Without one of those.” She gestured back down into the bottom of the trunk, and I peered into it. Gwen did too, and groaned.

  “We used to wear those to the renaissance festivals, remember?” she asked, hooting. “Lord, they are so uncomfortable.”

  “You don’t have to wear that dress, Rose,” said Bran gently as I fished the corset out of the bottom of the trunk, wrinkling my nose and sighing as I hefted it in my hand.

  Great.

  It was made of whalebone.

  That…would be pretty constricting.

  “I was supposed to be married in this,” I said with a little shrug. “So…I’m going to damn well be married in it.”

  “Um…do you remember how to put all this on?” asked Bran, taking up all of the other undergarments from the bottom of the trunk and very discretely not looking at them in her hands.

  I sighed and grinned at her. “Yeah, I remember.”

  …Sort of.

  ---

  If someone had asked me, a few months before that day, if I thought I’d be getting married…I don’t think I would have even been able to answer. The pain of losing Anna had consumed me, body and soul. I had loved her so very much, and—one day—she was brutally taken from me.

  I know, now, that the pain of losing Anna compounded with the pain of losing Kane in the previous life. What I don’t know is why I was drawn to Anna in the first place. If I had stayed with Anna, had never come to Eternal Cove, Maine…if I had never met Kane, what would my life look like? I’m sure I would have married Anna, I’m sure we would have stayed in Greensprings. I’m sure we would have had a beautiful life together, full of love.

  And maybe, the next time around, I’d try to find Kane again.

  Just because I have a soulmate, just because I remembered my past life…it doesn’t mean I understand how the world works, or that I have any better understanding about souls and love and everything we, as humans, dream of.

  All I know is I was going to get married to my soul mate.

  Finally.

  After all these years.

  After all these lives.

  We were finally going to be married, and—with a vow of everlasting love—we would prove that love is eternal.

  Of course we didn’t need a marriage to say such a thing. There would be those who heard our story who scoffed at it. I don’t claim to know anyone else’s journey in this world, and I don’t judge the journey of anyone else. But, for Kane and me…it had been right to wed. It had always been right, but we hadn’t gotten the chance.

  It had been taken from us.

  And now, I was getting it back.

  I stood in Bran’s bedroom—what was, once, my old bedroom—and I gripped the post of her bed frame. I took small, shallow breaths as Gwen gripped the stays of the corset and she pulled with all of her might. There had been other parts of the undergarments that had ripped from their age, even though they’d been stored properly, and I was so nervous that the corset was going to collapse…but whoever had made it, so long ago, had double and treble stitched it, and it had survived the years admirably.

  It did not crack or break as Gwen put her back into pulling it as tight as she was able…which wasn’t very tight. Neither of us were well versed with what made a corset work, and we’d seen only a handful of period dramas. That, paired with my spotty memories and a couple of minutes on Google had helped us figure out that we had, originally, been putting the corset on upside down.

  There were quite a few expletives muttered when we realized this…and we began the process again.

  I was all kitted out currently in the millions (give or take) of undergarments that Victorian women were fond of wearing. Once Gwen was done tying the laces of the corset, we both stared at the dress that had been lain out on Bran’s bed, almost as if a ghost occupied it.

  We both stared at it together, and then I took as deep a breath as I was able to inside that tight corset.

  “All right,” I
told her, lifting my chin. “I’m ready.”

  “Dude, I’m not,” sighed Gwen, flopping down on Bran’s bed and holding her side tightly. She looked pale in the low light of Bran’s bedside lamp. “Can we take a breather for a minute? Lacing you up ‘bout near killed me.”

  “Thanks,” I quipped, and sat alongside her, gripping my tiny waist and trying not to panic about not being able to take a deep breath.

  We both stared at the door across the room, the door that led to Bran’s living quarters.

  We could hear voices outside. The others were getting ready for the wedding, were preparing the room for the ceremony…

  I wasn’t certain where Kane was. I only knew that when someone knocked on that door, it would be time.

  My heart was in my throat, and I kept swallowing, kept taking sips of water from the little cup that Bran had given me.

  This was so…big.

  This was literal lifetimes in the making.

  And I was so excited and so nervous and so happy and so worried, all at once, my entire self a tangle of emotions, most of them good. I tried, so very, very hard, not to think about this evening. Outside of Bran’s bedroom, through the pretty window with its thick curtains, I could see that the sky was a riot of perfect sunset colors. Bran’s bedroom window looked out to the sea, so I couldn’t see the sunset—it was in the opposite direction, due west.

  But I could still tell that night was fast approaching.

  Soon, soon…everything would happen so soon.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” asked Gwen, and I glanced sidelong at my best friend, grinned a little at her and sighed.

  “I’ve got more than a penny’s worth of thoughts,” I joked, but it fell a little flat.

  Gwen glanced out the window, too, saw the brilliant sky, and she nodded. “Yeah…you probably do.” She stood, struggling a little, and then smoothed out the thighs of her skirt. She’d picked the first dress off of a hanger in the closet to wear—probably one of the only dresses Gwen possessed, a pretty blue cocktail number. Her tight curls were radiating out above her head like a halo, and though she was very pale from her pain—she still looked beautiful.