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Tessa sighed and watched the dark water of the fountain churn under the encroaching edges of ice, trying to remember the floral scent of her mother's soft hair. Was she forgetting? She frowned as her vision blurred and quickly dabbed the moisture from the corners of her eyes. It was no longer thoughts of her mother that brought her tears; it was always Ferremor. He snuck into her thoughts whenever she was weak and wounded her over and over again. She wasn't angry with him, and even regretted slapping him a few months before. It was his pain and loneliness that she lamented. What if she could ease his hurt? What if her love could save him from his dreamless existence? A chill passed through her in spite of her thick garments, and she shivered, pulling her knit shawl closer.
"Alexandra was my best friend, since I was seven." Ferremor's quiet voice to her right startled her, but only for a moment.
Tessa quickly rose from the bench and faced him. She wanted to hold him, but she was afraid she would drive him away again. She hesitated before reaching into his cloak for his hand, drawing it into hers. She was surprised once more by the chill in his flesh that she felt even through her gloved fingers, but smiled at the thrill of simply touching him.
Ferremor watched their hands as Tessa wrapped both of hers around his fingers, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he spoke again of the subject that he'd always avoided. "She would walk three leagues by herself every two weeks just to visit me. She made other excuses, but I knew." Ferremor cleared his throat and looked away, his loss painful to watch. "She didn't simply accept me in spite of my demonic heritage, it was more than that. She made me feel that anything I was, or did, or said was special to her simply because it was me." His eyes glistened and his voice cracked, trailing off.
Tessa bit her lip, and stepped closer. "Are you afraid that I will ask you to stop loving her, Ferremor?" she whispered. "I will not. She is a part of you, and will always be. Just as my mother is a part of me." She looked down at his hand in hers, eager to lay her heart before him. "I understand that you would be with her now, and not me, were it not for a terrible tragedy," she admitted. "All I want is you, all of you, exactly as you are. I want to help you bear this pain. I want to be in your life through all of this darkness." She lifted her gaze to his, her passion and longing heavy in her voice, and she watched moisture gather around his eyes. "Every ounce of the burden you lay on me is welcomed, because it all would seem weightless if I could bring you one smile."
Ferremor suddenly embraced her, weeping. Tessa's heart could have burst. She was surrounded by his cold and his fathomless sorrow. She laced her arms around his back, under his wings, and rested her head against the fabric of the cloak draping his shoulders. She let him weep, let his sadness rock her.
"She was so much to me," he exclaimed, his voice thick with grief. "When she died, so much of me died with her! The sunny, joyful half of my heart. I owe her everything, everything," he wept. His pain was like a brand, burning deep into her heart and awakening her own tears. "And so soon after she's gone, I want another! I am evil! I betray her by letting thoughts of you invade my heart."
Tessa cried against his chest. "She would never wish for you to be lost forever in the sadness of her memory," she urged. "She would want you to remember her kindness and beauty, and she would want you to seek out happiness. I know that she would never forgive herself if, in any way, her memory kept you from living your life."
"You cannot know," he sobbed. "You cannot know."
"I do." She held him tighter. "If she loved you as I do, then all she would care about, in this life or the next, is your happiness. Forever, your happiness."
Ferremor drew away and shook his head, his intense blue eyes glistening with tears. "I can't, Tessa. I can't be with you, when I'm thinking of her. It's false." He abruptly turned away. "I just miss her so much! And I see her in you, now. It wouldn't be fair. Not to you, not to me . . . and not to her."
"I do not care about that!" Tessa put herself in front of him again, desperate to make him understand. "If it eases your pain to think of her in every moment, even those you share with me, I welcome it. Have the peace her love brings you. All I want is for you to overcome this hopelessness and stop punishing yourself needlessly." She smiled, placing her hands on his chest, but he looked away. "I know that you care for me, and that is enough. That will always be enough. I would leave everything for you, Ferremor. I will run away with you. I want to."
That drew his eyes sharply to hers. "No. Your mother's garden. Your father . . ."
"Both are in my heart and will ever be," she insisted. "I will write my father often with news of my happiness, and perhaps, in time, he will accept you as family." She had thought often of her life with Ferremor, what it would mean. She'd always known that her father wouldn't bless the union, but she didn't care. "If not, I have you. That is enough for me, just you."
Ferremor embraced her again, and she eased into him. The feel of her arms around him, of her body pressed against his cold chest, felt natural, perfect. It felt as though she had always belonged there. "I would leave tonight with naught but the garments I wear if you wished it, Ferremor." She looked up at him, her smile inviting, welcoming. "But I know you will need time. I will wait, my love. I will wait until the sun falls from the sky if I must."
"I don't deserve this," he muttered miserably, reaching up to caress her cheek.
"I believe you do," she whispered fervently. "You deserve love and happiness and a future to look forward to. Everyone does." He didn't kiss her, and she didn't expect him to. He had opened his heart to her, but it was still broken, and only time would teach her how to heal it.