King

 

She walked into the room and I glanced up casually, my attention on my phone call. I looked away, then looked back. Fucking hell, she had a body on her, and I noticed something exotic in her dark features. Enjoying a brief yet detailed vision of sinking my fingers around her lush hips, I glanced down at her resume to check her name. Hmmm.

You have beautiful eyes, Alexis Clark.

 

Memories were a powerful thing. They could at once set you free or take you prisoner, hold your entire life captive.

I think that in the space between birth and death you can have one life, or you can have many. But in order to have many, you also need the strength to end the one that came before. And there lies the tricky part.

In the old life you might have been face down in the dirt, but that dirt held a seductive quality that kept you in its grasp.

There was once a time when I felt trapped in a dark tunnel, and the only light was a false one found at the end of a bottle. The only peace was the numbness that sang through my veins and blocked out the memories of the life I left behind. Edgar Allen Poe once said that he didn’t indulge in stimulants for the pleasure they brought, but to escape from the memories that plagued him. In that sense, we were kindred.

When I was a young man, I was confident, ready to take on any challenge, free of fear.

When I was a grown man, I knew the world and I was winning, even though there were worries that tried to drag me down.

When I was an older man, I was broken; the things I thought I’d done had ruined the things I’d left behind.

Now I was an even older man, and I knew that my memories didn’t have to own me, and nothing was ever lost forever, especially love. It was simply waiting to be reclaimed, and reclaiming required strength.

You see, I told you there was a tricky part.

And that part would never be truly surpassed. Much like a virus that can’t be cured but simply maintained, I would always look at the dirt and see something alluring. It was the strength I drew from within that kept me from succumbing to the allure.

My strength was in my music. It was in my boy, who grew taller every day. And it was in Alexis, who even when I was nothing had looked at me like I was everything. Thinking of her, I felt a sudden need to see her and rose from my seat, my sister eyeing me suspiciously.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Marina asked.

“To see Alexis. I’ll only be a minute,” I answered.

She tugged on my hand and pulled me back down with a surprising amount of strength for a sixty-year-old woman.

“You can’t see her now. It’s bad luck,” she scolded me.

Jay, who was sitting on the other side of the room, made a noise like Marina had answered a question wrong on a quiz show. “Nope. Complete load of horse rap,” he said, casually closing his book and leaning forward. “People made that shit up back in the day of arranged marriages. Picture it here: Dude walks in and sees his bride’s a howler, then goes, ‘Fuck this for a game of soldiers, I’m outta here.’ Before you know it, the wedding’s off.” A silence fell, and my sister shot Jay a scowl. “Or you know, vice versa. Lotta butt-ugly dudes out there, too,” he amended.

Marina pointed to him. “That’s not why I’m scowling. I’m scowling because you’re trying to bring bad luck to my brother’s marriage by urging him to break an age-old tradition.”

Jay threw his hands in the air. “Hey, I’m just laying out the facts. You’ll find that a bunch of those old superstitions arose out of simple practicality. Marriages were little more than business transactions back then.”

Marina scowled harder. “When my friend Rose broke a mirror, she was sick with a different ailment at least once a year for seven years. Then on the seventh year, poof, no more ailments. How do you explain that, Mr. Practical?”

“I explain it with one word: coincidence,” Jay threw back.

I shook my head. Those two were always arguing over stuff like this. In fact, I thought they enjoyed it. Marina touched my hand. “Don’t listen to him. The ceremony is in less than half an hour. You can wait.”

Before I could reply, Jay spoke up again. “Oh, and more evidence to prove my point: veils. Why have a veil if not to hide an ugly face? You’re already married by the time the priest tells you to lift it, and then it’s like boom, here’s what you just pledged your entire life to. Good luck with that.”

Jack, who had been fixing his tie in the mirror, snickered a laugh. I think this must have been the first time I’d ever seen him in a suit. My best man. My best friend.

Marina continued scowling at Jay until he finally got the message to shut up. She’d become something of a substitute mother to the brothers, and though she often complained about it, I knew she loved being needed.

I squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll wait.”

 

I didn’t hear her enter the apartment. The music in my fingers was too loud and consuming for me to be aware of another presence. That was the best thing about it. Music could fill your head and allow you to escape the constant worries that consumed you.

A buzzing sound went off, and my playing ceased. I turned, saw her outfit, and tried to suppress a smile.

“Oh, go on, say it. You know you want to,” she sighed.

God, this woman. Even when my deepest fears tried to drag me down, she always found some way to make me feel lighter.

I released the smile I’d withheld and replied, “What on earth are you wearing?”

 

The tent was full. I wasn’t quite sure why, because I’d been nothing but a rude, careless drunk to these people for years, but it appeared the entire circus was there to attend our wedding. Every time they saw me now, they seemed taken aback by how much I’d changed.

Christ, every time I saw me now, I was taken aback by how much I’d changed.

I wore a fitted tux, designed by Jay’s wife, Matilda. She’d also designed Alexis’ dress, but I wasn’t allowed to see it yet. I believed in my sister’s superstitions about as much as Jay did, but still, I indulged her. Marina had kept me from going over the edge for a really long time.

Speaking of my half-sister, she was the one officiating the ceremony, and she wore her ringmaster’s outfit, complete with top hat and tails. Jack stood by my side; I’d always found his presence soothing, even when I was so far gone I’d forget entire weeks. Just like Marina, he’d been a rock to me, and probably the only one brave enough to grip me by the balls (metaphorically speaking) and tell me the truth that the way I was living was going to kill me.

Of course, I didn’t listen to him. It was only when Alexis came back into my life that I remembered I wasn’t me. Drinking wasn’t me. And that I was far stronger than I’d given myself credit for.

The music began to play, and I turned to see her walking down the aisle. Her dress was beautiful, her face radiant, and when she stopped to stand in front of me, I told her so.

 

She sat astride me, and I couldn’t hide my arousal. She was well aware of it, too, but her reaction wasn’t what I expected. Something forced my gaze down, away from her pretty lips and beautiful eyes, and I saw her nipples were hard. All in an instant, everything fell into place. She’d been lying; she must have been. And I was pissed. Pissed and aroused, and yes, smug as fuck. Mere seconds passed, and already I was imagining all the ways I was going to take her. I wanted to grip her thick, dark hair as I plunged myself into her soft, welcoming body.

She trembled when I leaned in close enough that our lips almost brushed and whispered, “I fucking knew it.”

 

Oliver was our page boy. He also sat beside me throughout the reception, and I spent most of my time talking to him rather than mingling with the guests. I’d missed so much, and every moment felt like a new opportunity to reclaim something of those lost years.

“I think your wife might like to dance with you now,” Alexis murmured in my ear, the husky quality to her voice sending a thrill down my spine. I’d spent weeks asking her to marry me, and she’d finally said yes. Now here we were, six months later. The circus had returned to London, and we were husband and wife in a wedding that had been nothing short of unique.

I took her hand in mine, and Mum came to take my empty seat beside Oliver. She looked happier than I’d seen her since I was a teenager. After all the time I’d spent thinking she was dead, it felt a little bit miraculous to have her before me, alive and so much healthier than she’d ever been.

Leading my wife to the dance floor, I slid my arms around her waist, pulled her close to my body, and swayed us both to the rhythm of the music. Her hair smelled of lilacs and her skin of the sun. Her light olive tan looked pretty against the white of her dress, and I fingered the hem at the back, hardly able to wait until tonight when I got her alone. She gave a little shiver and rested her head on my shoulder.

All around us, our family and friends enjoyed the party. Marina sat with Alexis’ parents, chatting like they were old friends. Mum had Oliver on her lap now, and I knew that my boy was her world just the same way that he was mine.

Alexis’ hand came to my neck, her fingers light and probing on my skin. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she whispered, echoing my own sentiments. “Maybe we could slip away for a little bit.”

I groaned low in my throat, feeling her shift her body so that her breasts pushed harder against my chest.

“Not yet,” I whispered back. “First, I have something for you.”

 

Her body was a dream, her stomach soft and rounded, her breasts heavy and full in my hands. As I stared down at her, marvelling at the flare of her hips and her hair spread out like a dark halo around her head, I felt something strange and intangible take hold. My throat was tight, and the taste of her was still in my mouth. I already loved the taste of her.

“I think this is your cue to beg, love,” I murmured.

She did. Christ, she begged so perfectly.

And when I finally sank myself inside her, the final piece of that strange and intangible thing fell into place. I was surely falling.

 

I sat on the stage in the middle of the tent, our wedding guests seated all around. Alexis was only feet away, and the gravity of what I was about to do caused a heaviness to settle in my gut. My hands hadn’t trembled like this since I’d come off alcohol. I rubbed my palms together in an effort to still them. I couldn’t play music if my hands were shaking.

The wedding band had taken a break, and I sat by the piano, the weight of two hundred pairs of eyes baring down on me. For months I had only played for strangers; now I was playing for everyone I knew in the world. There was a certain comfort in anonymity, but there was no comfort in putting yourself out there for the people who mattered most.

My courage won out, and my hands settled on the keys. My gaze rested on Alexis as I leaned forward and spoke into the microphone.

“Someone once told me that my music can be a gift I give to other people. So, my darling, here’s my wedding gift to you.”

I closed my eyes and played. The music looked like colours behind my eyelids, and I experienced a wonderful moment of synaesthesia. I saw the years flash through my mind, all the pain and loneliness expelled through the tips of my fingers. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Alexis before me, her gaze shiny with unshed tears. Quite like a present waiting under the tree, I knew hers had been opened. She saw me for all I was, and I saw her for all she was. The story in the music of all we’d been through wasn’t pretty, and yet, in that moment I wouldn’t wish to be anyone other than who I was right then. I was glad for my experiences, good and bad. I was glad for what they had made me.

And I was glad that I hadn’t had one life, but that I’d had many.

 

She stood before me, a miracle made flesh, and God, so much more beautiful than I even remembered. Living without her for so many years had been like living in a world without the sun. I didn’t feel worthy of touching her, and yet, my hands wandered anyway. They began at her temples before descending. Drinking her in with my eyes, I felt my way down until I reached her throat and a breath escaped her. She was from another life, the one I’d left behind, but having her there, my hands on her skin, made me feel like I was stepping out of this life and into a new one.

“Hello,” I said quietly.

“Hi,” she answered back.

 

End.