Page 62 of Zenith
23
Reader, I married him.
Everything I was, everything I am, and everything I will be I gave to Edward Rochester. It was a quiet affair, just the two of us and a celebrant on the terrace of my late uncle’s house in Madeira, Portugal. It still felt alien to describe that fine property as being mine, and I was sure it would take a very long time to acclimatize to the life I was bequeathed.
It was a beautiful place. The tropical island was rugged in its turbulent volcanic past, but it was reminiscent of an oasis in the center of a chaotic world. Its solitude from the coming and goings of England and the media storm the fire at Thornfield had created was a welcome relief. Here, we could let our worries go and lose ourselves in one another.
Edward’s burns healed as well as could be hoped, though he would bear the scars for the rest of his life. The sunshine and peaceful vistas of the island archipelago that was Madeira eventually brought back his spirits, our time for mourning well and truly passing.
We slept on the private beach more often than not, falling asleep in one another’s arms after making love under the stars. I never thought it was possible for the universe to be so bright, and surely the heavens shone more brilliantly than they ever did over the moors that surrounded Thornfield.
After the fire, I saw to it that Alice, Bessie, and all the staff were well looked after before they went their separate ways, for that was what family did for one another. They may not be of the same blood as I, but it was irrelevant. Each one of those souls cared for me when I could not care for myself, and it was the least I could do in the wake of such tragedy.
We never heard from the Mason’s or the Ingram’s—whatever became of Blanche was unknown to us—and life was as it should be. Calm, tender, and full of love and hope. Treachery was forever behind us.
It was safe to say we never returned to Thornfield. I heard in later months—after Mr. Briggs assisted Edward in selling the land—the remains of the building had been demolished, and revitalization works had been carried out to preserve the original foundations. It seemed the land had been acquired by the National Trust under the advisement of Georgiana, who had taken hold of her own future and had become quite involved with the organization. I was proud to call her family.
Everything had finally found its rightful place.
On the morning of the first day of the third month since arriving on the island, I found Edward on the terrace, his palm over his good eye as he stared out over the ocean below. He’d taken to wearing loose-fitting slacks and short-sleeved shirts, which he often left open so I could salivate over his toned abs, and he was dressed thusly with bare feet.
“What are you doing?” I asked, standing beside him. “Are your scars worrying you?”
“No,” he replied, lowering his hand, then placing it back again. “I fancy I can see a little out of this eye. Perhaps it’s a trick of the mind, but it doesn’t seem so dark anymore.”
I stood to his left, on his blind side, and studied his features. His skin was twisted, and those he’d first met had all given him looks with varying degrees of concern and repulsion. He never blamed them for it. It was a confronting sight to see his shining white eye staring back at them, and it would put anyone on edge if they weren’t expecting to see it.
I smiled, hoping he was right that his sight was returning at least a little, though it would never change my opinion of him. It was never his beauty I fell in love with but his stormy spirit. Edward Rochester was my likeness, my equal, and the lost half of my soul. I would never be parted from him again, sightless or not.
“Shall I make an appointment for you with the ophthalmologist?”
“No,” he said, taking me in his arms. “I feel it is a metaphor more than anything.”
I smiled, placing a kiss upon his lips. “Indeed it is.”
He was right, as usual. For all that he and I had been through, for all the scars we bore, life did not seem so bleak. No, it was bright, shining and happy. The world lay at our feet, open and waiting for us to discover all it had to offer.
No, it wasn’t so dark anymore.
