Page 59 of Forbidden Daddy

“I do, as a matter of fact, a particularly beautiful and niche area of it.”

She blushed, but smiled at the same time—it took me a moment to realize she was bashful.

“I could draw for you if you’d like?”

I nodded eagerly and hunted down the pencil I’d thrown to the side. She flipped to a clean page and took a deep breath.

Then, I watched her work. Evelyn clearly had a different process than me. She sketched an area out and then began drawing some fluid figure that I couldn’t make out. It probably only took her thirty minutes, but I fell in love with the way she glanced around the clearing we were in, the way she looked when she worked, and not just because she was still naked. Instead, it was the way her shoulders relaxed, and she’d chew on the end of the pencil before adding some tiny detail.

“I’m done,” she announced nervously and handed back the sketchbook.

I couldn’t describe her work well enough. Where mine relied on realistic lines and hard angles, everything about her artwork was based on fantasy. A girl drawn from fluid motions sat in the middle of the blanket we were sat on now, but instead of pillows, she was surrounded by candles that seemed to flicker, even in their graphite state. The girl had a crown of leaves and looked joyful in her state. She was completely at peace, with her eyes closed, and hands raised up to the heavens. Even looking at the image felt like I was intruding on something personal.

“It’s beautiful, Evelyn,” I said quietly.

I wondered how there had ever been distance between us, how I ever stayed away from the girl that made me feel this way. I held my arms open, and she fell back into them. When she was close, it was the most peculiar feeling, like I couldn’t catch my breath, but if she was gone, I’d be deprived of oxygen. A moment of insecurity washed over me—it was her eyes, when they hardened against mine, the fact that she’d left in the first place. I tried not to think of it, and I knew that she loved me too much to ever intentionally leave me, but I was scared of those demons coming back to haunt her, of dragging her away against her will. I didn’t need rings or questions or affirmations to know she loved me, I just needed her to tell me she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Evelyn,” I said, “Sometimes I get scared.”

It felt pathetic to be voicing my fears when she had so much more to worry about, but I couldn’t help it, and she had always insisted that she preferred to hear about them.

“Me too,” she replied, “I know you’re scared I’ll leave again. I know you have all those other worries. When you’re asleep, sometimes you ask me to stay. All I can promise is that I’m working on that side of myself—the flighty side. If I ever do run though, I will always come back to you.”

It wasn’t enough for forever, but I hoped we wouldn’t need to revisit the conversation. It was enough for now. If I needed to, I’d chase her to the ends of the Earth to bring her home safe. I pulled her closer to me and hummed into her hair. I knew that she really was working on that part of herself as well—she had been seeing a therapist every week, and told me about her sessions. It was the same woman Hannah saw, and both of them had become more noticeably content with their lives. I considered briefly that I should probably check her out. I heard once that you should see a therapist to stop any mental issues from coming up, like a form of preventative care.

For now, though, Evelyn was solid against me. Her body was warm, the night was cool, and we were laying in the space that would one day be our living room. I put all thoughts of running and therapists out of my head. There was no room for that tonight.

Tonight, was about love, and art, and the brilliance of a future together.

Epilogue

Two and a half years later

I was scared. There was no doubt about that, but I closed my hand around the vial that hadn’t left my neck in two and a half years. My best friend was next to me, her head held high and happy. She looped her arm through mine, and then we were just waiting. I patted the front of my dress, and she told me to stop, told me that I was beautiful, and told me to calm the fuck down.

I laughed at this last sentiment, but I couldn’t help but feel a little scared. There was so much room for error. I made sure my feet were secure in my shoes, and when the music started blaring, I knew that was my cue. Hannah pushed open the doors, and I was exposed to the world.

Everyone was staring at me. I walked forward, Hannah with me, and I did my best not to fall. It had been a while since I’d worn heels. I pushed forward though because the greatest adventure of all was waiting for me at the end. The people watched me pass. Most of them were friends from the college, a few were from Julian’s work. Julian’s face was the thing that kept me going. He looked so ready for me to reach the end of the aisle that I would have broken into a run if I could have. I didn’t care that I looked out of place, that the bump was now showing on my stomach. I didn’t care if people thought it was a shotgun wedding. They were so, so wrong. Hannah and I reached the end of the aisle, and she handed me over to Julian. When I asked her to walk me down the aisle, she cried tears of joy.

When Julian had asked me to marry him, I’d had a similar response.

“Wasn’t Ruth pregnant with Hannah when you proposed?” I choked through the tears.

Julian laughed and held me close.

“Maybe I should stop proposing to pregnant women,” he joked.

“You better not be proposing to anyone after me,” I responded, “Because I plan on being with you for a very, very long time.”

“No more proposals,” he said, kissing me, “Got it.”

He had helped me off the picnic blanket then, and we’d danced like we were lovestruck teenagers.

I saw the same joy in his eyes as he held my hands and the priest began to speak. I was lost in his eyes, only just hearing the ending words.

“...till death do you part?”

“I do,” I said confidently.

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