Page 3 of Love Me

I haven’t slept without him by my side in years. Our relationship is frowned upon, mostly because marriages in the Family have always been arranged, planned, and executed to perfection to gain influence. Not wanting to linger in my depressing thoughts, I pick up a book and lose myself in tales of far-away lands with girls more courageous than me.

I am halfway through the book, but my restlessness is full-blown now. Kaden should have been here by now. Where is he?

Throwing the book to the side, I pick up my phone and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. I text him next, but my message remains unseen. Unease crawls over my skin. Having had enough of pacing but still antsy, I put on a sweatshirt and rush down the stairs.

Outside, the late summer chill wraps around my bare legs, and I hug myself, trying to keep warm. Thankfully, artificial lights are strategically placed on each side of the paved road connecting all the Family houses so I can see where I need to go.

I stop in front of his house. Chalk-washed walls contrast with the dark gray paneling and rattan screens. Even our houses look similar and harmonious, like the overall image we present to the world.

I insert the key Kaden gave to me and step inside. Silence and darkness blanket the foyer. Switching on the light, I call Kaden’s name. Panic sits heavy in my chest when there is no answer. No one is home. His parents are away most of the time, preferring to live in the city. We have pretty much raised ourselves, along with governesses and staff, under Grandmother’s watchful eyes. But where is Kaden?

My hands turn clammy as I search through every room and don’t find him.

Rushing outside again, my gaze lands on the house sitting atop the hill—Grandmother’s pristine white monstrosity. I run toward it, not caring that I wasn’t invited. The thought of seeing her sends a chill down my spine, but needing to know Kaden is all right trumps everything else.

Swiping at the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, I breathe in a lungful of air, knock on the bulky door, and try to suppress my shudder. The door knocker is in the shape of an eagle’s head, complete with a razor-sharp beak, giving the impression it’s about to rip your head off.

Thomas, Grandmother’s trusted butler, and most longstanding employee, opens the door.

“Miss Langley, what are you doing here?”

“K-Kaden?” I stammer.

His gaze turns compassionate. “He’s not here. You should go.”

Before I’m able to, Grandmother’s gravelly voice roots me in place. “Who’s at the door, Thomas?”

My blood freezes, and his look of compassion turns to pity as he opens the door, revealing Grandmother. She is my mother’s mother, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how she treats me. She is as she always is—cold and indifferent.

She gestures for Thomas to let me in. Inhaling deeply to fortify myself, I take a small step into the grand foyer. The exterior represents an architectural work of art, and the statues and paintings that adorn the walls inside are an antique, regal style that is fit for a matriarch.

Her piercing gaze travels down my body, sharp disapproval painting her face. Dressed in all black, she carries an aristocratic air of intimidation. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“How dare you present yourself this way!”

“I’m sorry, Grandmother, but Kaden—”

“Is not here.”

Any words of reply get stuck at the back of my throat. I watch her in her perfect black dress and pearls, even this late at night. At seventy, she still looks strong, as though time stretches, allowing her to reign unperturbed.

“Please, Granny—”

“Grandmother.” It hits me again how she makes no allowances between me and the other heirs. Every one of us calls her Grandmother as per request, just as we call the elders in the Family, Uncle and Aunt. Titles like that are used to show respect and our knitted relationships to the outside world––the biggest lie possible. Even though I am her blood, I’d say she dislikes me the most. “Now leave.”

“But Kaden…”

She waves me off. “Always so desperate for love, Celine. Don’t be such a burden.” With those parting words, she turns and walks away.

Tears rain down my face as I run home. With dejection and worry dragging me into a hellish hole, I crash on the floor and weep. My insides roll and twist on the way down, falling until I hit rock bottom. My spirit cracks, leaving me vulnerable. I’m not a burden, am I? But allowing these thoughts to linger would disrespect our love and hurt Kaden, so I infuse strength into my bruised being and gather myself from the floor.

We’ll be fine. Nothing could tear us apart.

***

A loud bang jolts me awake, and I shoot up on the couch in the open living room. My mind has been such a jumbled mess, a thick fog wrapping around my sanity. I have spent the last seventy-two hours in such absolute despair that I can’t think clearly. Maybe I’m hallucinating, and hearing things is the first sign I’m losing my mind.

The entry door opens, sways, and hits the wall repeatedly before I see Kaden. My heart jolts to life, but my relief is short-lived. He wobbles on his feet as he steps inside, a bottle dangling from his hand. He never drinks alcohol. Well, he never used to.

---