The WAR: A Story of Family

11. Your Hands On Me

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"We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief."

TOUCH

Avyanna sat with the other women as Ivy tried on her wedding gown, and all Avyanna could think was that she had never seen both a beautiful and sadder bride to be.

Ivy was not present, busy with her own thoughts, she stood beautiful in a light-colored gown, almost white, a simple gown with no flounces and no fuss. It was a classic ballgown, unembellished, it hugged her small waist and transformed into a skirt that floated with every step she took.

She was absolutely beautiful, and she looked absolutely miserable.

Avyanna stared helplessly at her, helpless to do anything about her situation. After all, it wasn't hard to determine that she was in love with Will yet for some reason she was marrying someone else. Gavin Withers.

Avyanna understood arranged marriages, unexpected suitors who came to ask for a hand, and surprising marriage proposals, but Avyanna had been lucky because she had wanted to marry Alistair.  She wanted to be his wife.  But if she hadn't, then she would have said no and that would have been that.

Couldn't Ivy say no?

They made eye contact and Ivy tried to smile and failed before she looked away.

The dressmaker prodded at her and pinned her gown in different ways, too long... too much skin... a trim here, an adjustment there... and all the while Ivy's friends offered their opinion and their advice while Ivy gave none of her own.

She could have been a doll displaying the dress for someone else to wear on their own wedding day.

It should have been a joyous day with a future to look forward to, but all of them were relieved to part company from the heaviness of whatever Ivy was carrying.

Kat had tried to hug her and was rebuffed.

Even the cold, and normally aloof, Lillian had asked Ivy if she was alright, only to be met with a single nod.  Yes.

Avyanna knew the truth though. 

And to an extent Bettina knew that it was not alright.

Avyanna tried to speak to Ivy after the fitting, to offer some support, but Ivy, on the verge of tears brushed her away, "I don't want to talk about it, Avyanna."

"But surely you have a choice. You can say no."

Ivy's gaze was bitter, "I don't. I can't. It doesn't even matter.  Will doesn't... he doesn't..."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Ivy looked hopeful for a moment... but she shook her head and she had turned and climbed into her carriage without another word.

It was late in the afternoon when Avyanna returned to the manor.

She bypassed everyone; she didn't have any dinner.

She was somber when she pushed open the door of the bedroom, and the light struck her from below, the room prepared for the evening.

Avyanna undressed slowly, with only the sound of the shifting fabric of her gown filling the silence.

She sat in the hot bath for a long time, she sat thinking until the water had turned cold before she got out.

Avyanna lay in bed that night and pressed her palms to the cold sheets where Alistair should have been. Eventually she fell asleep past midnight.