Kristie Cook - Promise

"Tristan," I spat.

"Yes, Tristan. A child from the two of you would guarantee our survival for many centuries. I can't tell you what it means for the Amadis to survive, but perhaps you can understand if you remember the Daemoni are our enemies and, well, let's just say it's not good for them to be left without us."

I nodded reluctantly. I knew where this was going.

"So where does this farce of a relationship and love come in?" I demanded. "Haven't the Amadis heard of in vitro fertilization?"

Mom shook her head. "Just back up a bit here. When you were born, I took you to the Amadis and that's when the council made its final decision…the plans for you and Tristan. I adamantly opposed it, believing it would not turn out well. Tristan opposed it, too. He thought it wasn't fair to you. But the council was settled.

"The council, in general, believed the two of you were meant for each other and you would be true soul mates. They tried to convince Tristan and me, but neither of us believed it possible. We both eventually agreed to the decision, though. For the next eighteen years, he went his way and I took you my way. I figured at some point, when you were much older than you are now, the two of you would find a way to make it happen and then go your separate ways.

"After waiting and brooding over this for so long, though, Tristan became curious. As soon as you turned eighteen, he came looking for you. He's told you the rest from there."

I stared at Mom. I still didn't get how the last nine months had anything to do with it. "So it was all just a set-up. Why did he have to lie about loving me, though? How can you justify that?"

"I don't believe it's a lie, Alexis," she answered quietly. "I feel it's the truth. I've felt it since the day I came back from that trip and saw how happy you two were together. I just didn't want to feel it then. But not wanting it doesn't make it go away. I believe the council was right and you two were meant to be together. You belong together."

My eyes hardened with my heart. "I don't buy it. He came here to complete his little assignment so he could get on with his long, miserable life. I was just a responsibility and he wanted to get it done and out of the way."

"You're being ridiculous, Alexis, and you know it deep down in your heart."

I shrugged. I didn't want to know what hid deep down in my heart because it meant pain ( love ).

"Whatever," I finally muttered. I punched my pillow and lay back down on my side, facing the wall again.

"Alexis, you love him, don't you?"

I ignored her. She eventually got the message and left.

She was right. I did love him, to my core. If I wasn't sure before, the intense pain I felt now proved it. But he didn't really love me. He had to play through the whole thing so he could get used to being around me without wanting to kill me. After all, we couldn't create a kid if he murdered me in the process. He just needed to make it seem real to keep me around long enough. Even went so far as to propose…

I broke down in tears and then full-body sobs again. When the anger followed, I mostly directed it at myself for being so damn stupid. A part of me knew it all along…the part still protecting my most vulnerable, intimate areas…the part that knew he really was too good to be true, that it never was real. I cried through another night.

The next few days consisted of crying, anger, staring at the walls and restless sleep. I didn't eat and had to force myself to even take a shower. No school, no Tristan…no reason to care. My future, my whole life was over. Not over, as in I wanted to kill myself. Just over as in that chapter ended and I couldn't find the beginning of the next one. So many unknowns loomed in my future, and the one thing I'd finally become so sure about—my anchor—was gone. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore.

I lost all track of time. He came by the cottage several times, but I stayed in my room and refused to acknowledge him. He could only be there for one reason—to explain himself and end it in person. I couldn't deal with the rejection all over again. It was easier to just be mad, because I was afraid of what my heart would do if I even heard his lovely voice or saw his… Nope, not even going to think about it. When I'd hear him leave, I had to fight the urge to run after him. So I cried instead.

"Good to see you out of your room," Mom said one morning when I slouched into the kitchen. She was about to leave for the store. "It's only been nearly a week. You look like hell."

"A week ?" I couldn't believe I'd wasted so much time being miserable.

She looked at me with concern. "Maybe you could at least go to the beach or something. I bet you'd like that. It would make you feel better."

"Yeah, maybe," I mumbled. I doubted it would make me feel better. I loved the beach, but it happened to be where I had a lot of memories I didn't want to stir up.

Mom left as I sipped a cup of coffee, staring at the cream-colored kitchen walls and trying not to think. I eventually poured a bowl of cereal I really didn't want. I took a couple bites and watched the rest turn to mush when there was a knock at the door. I stiffened in my chair. It could only be one person. I panicked. I couldn't slip to my room without him seeing me through the door glass. I didn't want to answer it, but he'd become familiar enough to usually enter on his own. I leaned over in my chair to peer around the corner at the door. Whew .

"Hey, Owen," I muttered when I opened the door.

"Hey, Alexis. You, uh, look like hell."

I still wore pajama bottoms and a tank top, my hair pulled up in a sloppy pony. I could only imagine how red and swollen my face was.

"Nice to see you, too," I said. I peered at him and noticed bruises all over his arms. "You look like hell, too. What happened to you?"

I reached my hand out to his arm, stopping just before touching the purplish marks. He cleared his throat. "That would be, uh, your boyfriend…or fiancé…or whatever he is."

"Ex," I mumbled under my breath. But then it hit me what he was saying. "Oh, my! Tristan did that to you? What on earth for ?"

He chuckled. "We sparred at the gym. He's just been, um, a little aggressive lately. No one else will even spar with him anymore. And I'm pretty sure he's holding back."

Well, yeah, or he would've killed you. I felt horrible for Owen—normal Owen who had no idea how bad it could've been and he couldn't even heal himself.

I sighed. "I'm really sorry, Owen. I think you're getting the brunt of…our break up."

"I can take it. Rather me than someone else," he mumbled.

I waved for him to come in and he followed me into the kitchen. "Mom left like an hour ago. Do you need something?"

"No, actually, I just stopped by to see how you're doing."

I spun around, surprised. "Well, I've had better weeks, but I'll be fine."

He smiled. I'd never really paid attention to how nice his smile was. In fact, looking at him now was like looking at him for the first time. I realized he was actually kind of attractive. I also knew he was a good, sweet guy. I thought maybe someday, when I put myself somewhat back together, we could at least be friends. Real friends who hung out and did things.

Then I remembered Tristan was the only person who hadn't fled when he learned the truth about me. I swallowed hard, fighting tears down, not wanting Owen to see me cry.

"No visitors?" he asked.

"Uh, no." Why would he want to know that?

"Okay." Awkward silence. "Would you, uh, want to go to the beach or something…maybe…sometime?"

He must have been asking if Tristan, specifically, had visited. I wondered if he was afraid of him, knowing what just a small bit of Tristan's wrath felt like.