Page 249 of The Doll and The Domination

Kane gulps loudly, replacing the place where my hand once was with his own, gently gripping her knuckles. “Thank you. Not just from me, but from my family. Thank you, Mrs. Ambrose.”

“No, Kane,” she coughs, slipping her other hand over his. “Thank you. You protected my girls your whole life. You loved them. You cared for them. You gave my little Skylenna the childhood she deserved. Your mama would be so proud of the man you have become.”

Tears drip from Kane’s bottom lashes directly onto Violet’s fur blankets. He doesn’t try to hide the effect her words have on him. No, because that’s not Kane. Kane is gentle, warm, and compassionate beyond comparison.

“I-I don’t remember doing any of the things you speak of,” he stammers, then moves his eyes across the room to me. “But I’d like to. More than anything. I want to remember so badly.”

He may never understand how much hope he’s just given me. I want to reach into my chest, rip out my own heart, and pass it over to him. Here. Take it. I’ll give you whatever you want for the rest of our lives. I’ll dive into the void, and I won’t come back until I have your memories.

“Take good care of each other,” my mother says, scratchy and breathless. “There are so many couples in the world that will never have what you two share. They’ll never get to grow old together.”

Kane looks down in thought.

I wish he could remember how much he has already taken care of me. It’s my turn to look after him. To cherish. To provide. To protect.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you two, but I had Asena fetch this from Jack’s house.” Violet reaches into her nightstand, plucking something from the top drawer. “Jack wrote letters to me on the rare occasion. He said that Kane asked for his blessing and permission to marry Skylenna…at the age of seven.”

Kane and I both release a surprised chuckle.

“And then again when Kane was nine. And again, at eleven. And then when he was nineteen.”

My quiet laughter is replaced with more tears.

Violet smiles to herself. “Jack’s words in his last letter were ‘I didn’t tell him… but he had my blessing that first moment he asked for her hand when he was seven. He wore his nicest clothes, slicked back his hair, and brought me a bouquet of wildflowers he picked in my backyard.’” She laughs, shaking her head. “These are our wedding rings. And per Sophia’s request, I had her diamond added.”

Violet holds a necklace with her thumb and index finger. It holds a husband’s gold wedding band and a wife’s wedding ring with a pear-cut diamond.

I silently melt in my seat.

It’s perfect.

It’s two symbols that hold so much history.

So much meaning.

Kane lets her lower the chain and rings in the palm of his big hand. He does his best not to react to this beautiful gift. I’m not sure he even knows how to respond.

I, on the other hand, focus on the ill woman in bed staring at us weakly, yet with so much love in her eyes. I unleash a strangled sob, throwing my arms and half my body over her.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Violet gasps before she weeps with me, arms trembling as she circles them around me, softly patting the back of my hand.

“I love you, Skylenna,” she cries.

“I love you too, Mama!”

After several minutes of crying, of apologies, of sweet words, we leave her room to let her rest. We walk back to our house in silence, basking in the sunrise that edges through the leaves. Kane holds on to those rings in the palm of his hand like his life depends on it.

And as I come to the front door of our house, I pause before entering. The trails of my tears are dry on my cheeks, but I can feel a new supply preparing to burst free.

“Skylenna?” Kane raises an eyebrow from inside the house.

It’s the chill of déjà vu again. That tug of nostalgia as I strip my clothes off in front of him, tossing them onto the wooden panels of the front porch.

“How good of a swimmer are you?” I ask, reliving that night Dessin jumped in the water, making me think he broke his neck and drowned.

Before Kane can answer, I spin on my heels, taking five long strides until I’m springing into the air, plummeting to the flat, shiny surface of the lagoon.

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