It always amazed her how excited people were to ring in a New Year. They counted down the seconds as though they couldnât wait to be rid of the last.
Wishing the time away could only be the pursuit of fools who hadnât lost as much as she had.
The crowds had gathered at the front steps of The Kingdom, and the excitement amongst guests was palpable. Things had gone off without a hitch thus far; an expected feat, given the person she was lucky enough to be co-hosting with. People were happy. Hopeful for what was to come. It was a helplessly contagious feeling, and as the woman squeezed her husbandâs hand, stepping outside so they could have a better view of the night sky when the fireworks began, she realised sheâd spent more of the last decade missing that feeling than experiencing it.
To say the years before had been difficult was an offensive understatement; so inadequate a description of the hurt she had suffered that sheâd selfishly laughed in the face of all empathy.
AurĂ©lieâs mother had been pried from her by the cruellest of Russian hands, and she knew then, the same as she still knew today, that she didnât have it in her to recover. Losing her little sister had only compounded the pain. Itâd hit home the fear that everything dear to her was at risk. That she could be without those closest to her at any moment. That they would never have enough time. Launceston had taken so much from so many peopleâitâd almost taken her best friends, itâd almost taken herâthat calling it home for a lifetime wasnât enough to keep her from leaving.
A fresh start. Surely she deserved that much.
As she looked up at Oliver, she considered their life now, and how different it was from where they had started. To this day, she was sure she had never regarded someone with such awe. Had never loved someone so completely that the idea of ever being without them physically hurt in a way she wouldnât have imagined possible before him. They had lost so much but gained even more. AurĂ©lie wasnât too proud to admit that he was the reason she had survived. The only reason, in her darkest hours, that sheâd wanted to.
She thought about their three beautiful children.
About a grandfather she wished theyâd had more time with.
âI love you,â she mouthed, no hope of being heard over the chants as the countdown began.
The woman smiled, her arm loosely finding its way around his waist as she leaned into him. Blocking out the rest of the crowd was always easy when he was her company. The very first time sheâd met Oliver Parra, he might as well have been the only person in the room, and whilst they both mightâve changed over the years spent at each otherâs side, that never would. Never could. AurĂ©lie rested her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes as her body fought bittersweet tears.
Aurélie had never been a fan of resolutions, but this year she had a big one.
For all she could cry about what the last decade had taken from her, she was the only one who had the power to make the most of what she had left. Jenifer and her mother were goneâno amount or mourning, or revenge, or punishing herself could bring them backâbut no matter what had transpired between them since the divorce, she still had her father. A man who had tried, despite the protests from a scorned child, to be a part of her life even when she had done nothing to deserve his kindness.
This year she would fix things with her father.
She owed him that. She owed herself.
She owed her children, Nicolas, Ăliza, and CĂ©lĂšne, the same relationship with their grandfather as the one thatâd defined her entire being. The one that had encouraged every meaningful part of her. The one that had made her the woman she was today.
When the clock struck midnight, she was holding Oliver so close.
They might not have been big on public displays of affection, but given the nature of the evening, she didnât leave him with much choice. The kiss was gentle. So was her smile.
A moment later and her head found its way back to his shoulder, glancing lazily up at the colours that flooded the night sky overhead. Her fingertips clung to the back of his jacket, and she found herself hoping, as the sky turned red with light, that she got to spend all of the New Years she had left like this. With him. Content in the realisation that for as long as she had the love of her life, she could work through whatever the decades to come would throw her way.
AurĂ©lie had drawn her attention away for just long enough to scour the crowds for Veronikaâs face.
Another she was sure she couldnât be without.
She couldnât help but grin at the sight of so many looking as happy as she felt.
When sheâd heard the screech behind them, she was sure that somebody had let loose a bottle of champagne on another guest. It seemed like they were already trying to flood the streets outside with the stuff. Out of mere curiosity, she turned back to see what the commotion was about; eyebrows raised as though ready to judge someone for crying about their Versace ten seconds into the new year.
The scene she was greeted with was anything but.
The confusion of the guests out front faded into insignificance. They pointed to the skyâstopped cheering only to mutter amongst themselvesâbut she noted little.
All she could see was him.
As though her muscles ceased to work, her grip faltered, and the hand sheâd been holding onto Oliver with fell away. Her knees almost gave out with it. Her chest. Her everything.
Aurélie had opened her mouth to call to her uncle and yet nothing came out.
It was as though the air had been sucked from her lungs; desperate to shout to him, but physically unable to do anything but watch as she witnessed him fading. Leaving them. Her.
When the others began to noticeâas though the mere acknowledgement of those around her made it realâpanic began to flood. The support sheâd had from her husbandâs hold was gone in an instant as Oliver reacted, on reflex; so sure of himself whilst she could only stand there like a deer in headlights. Still, after all this time, useless in the face of this.
Maya screamed out and she could feel it.
Until she couldnât feel anything.
The sound of the fireworks would surely mask the echo of gunfire to those at a distance, but to themâthose who were right in the middle of the chaos as it began to unfoldâit sounded as brutal and real as sheâd come to expect.
When she fell to the ground she was choking.
For a moment, she wondered if it was shock thatâd put her there.
Then her hand found the blood pooling in the hollow of her throat; spilling down the sides of her neck, into her hair, down to her dress with each attempt at a breathâŠ
The gunfire didnât seem so loud after that.
AurĂ©lie had been near death once beforeâamusingly, at the last attempt sheâd made at opening a hotelâbut she didnât remember it being like this. It had hurt then. Seared with such agony that she had wanted it to end, even through the shock.
Was that how you knew you were going to make it?
Was the fact she felt nothing at all a sign that she was leaving them, too?
When Oliver clambered over to her side, pure panic, hands pressing to her throat in an attempt to find and stem the bleeding, she almost smiled. She wished desperately to reach up to his arms but her body was not her own; everything was disconnected, cold, wrong.
She wasnât sure who helped him drag her out of the firing line.
âI love you,â she repeated as they did.
Never had she struggled so hard to say it. Never would she again.
It felt as though she needed to cough, to clear her chestâno doubt she was inhaling enough of her own blood to drown in itâand yet she couldnât. Her body wouldnât allow. It was crushing. Taking away every chance she could to breathe.
âMyâmy dad,â she attempted, desperate to get out even strangled words whilst she still could. Every ounce of energy she had went to keeping her focus on him. âThe kids. Make sure.â
âItâs the fucking Russians!â
The bellowing from another Commandant was so loud that it had snapped her back to reality.
To the gravity of the situation around them, instead of only hers.
Once again, taking a mother from her children. They were good at that.
Wishing the time away could only be the pursuit of fools who hadnât lost as much as she had.
Couldnât she have had more with them?
âRutherford party,â she said, despite the protests of a woman trying to silence her.
People were still screaming and the gunfire was still sounding, yet a kind stranger had still tried to help save her. Help a lost cause.
Would Oliver cope without her?
Would it be easier for her children than it had been when sheâd lost Emily? They barely knew her, after all. They hadnât gotten the chance.
âThey brought them here.â A final act of bitter defiance against themâone last burst of energy enough to break from her paralysisâhad her reaching up to grab at Oliverâs shirt. A little strength, but a whole lot of meaning followed: âKill them all.â
titsay
stormborns
janainaart
discoholicmusic
origamiaround
ellievsbear
theartofmadeline
jacobvanloon
