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“I still can’t believe we’re both getting married!”
Leila smiled at Jazz, her own excitement difficult to smother. “Strange how that worked out, isn’t it?”
“It’s a sign! We’re both going to be happy forever and ever.”
“So it seems. I like that dress on you, by the way.”
Jazz had on an ivory Vera Wang creation. It had a sweetheart neckline and was fitted around the waist with a bow above her left hip. Delicate beading decorated the mermaid tail that flared out from her knees. With Jazz’s colouring and her petite frame, this was the perfect complement.
“You should take it.”
“It won’t fit a couple of months from now,” Jazz complained. “It won’t look as good, then.”
“Wait, I thought you moved the date to after the birth?”
Jazz toyed with the bow. “With you getting married so soon, I’m feeling a bit left out. Your wedding is going to be unlike anything this world has ever seen because Uri’s mom is the bomb. Who’ll want to come to mine?”
“Don’t be absurd! If anything, my wedding will be an opportunity to see how you can improve your own.”
Giving her a look, Jazz asked: “Do you really think that Catherine Quinn will settle for anything that’s even remotely sub-par?”
With great reluctance, Leila admitted defeat. “She’s on another level, that’s for sure. What am I getting myself into?”
“I think it’s only right that FHM’s most beautiful woman in the world, three years in a row, marries into a family that could easily be mistaken for royalty.”
Leila winced. “That doesn’t mean that I’m becoming a different person.”
Jazz came over to squeeze her best friend’s hand. “I know. You’re still the Lala who doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about.”
“That makes me feel better, but—”
“Only because you’re not smart enough to see how amazing you are,” Jazz quipped, intentionally breaking the spell.
“There she is!”
“I’m still trying to wrap my mind around why you two are getting married so quickly. What’s the rush?”
“Well, his parents are only in the country for another four weeks. It might take a while until they get another visa to come here... You know how most countries view Russia. I don’t know when else we’ll get a chance to have everyone in the same area again.” Leila paused. “Besides, if we wait, he might change his mind.”
Jazz’s blue eyes widened. “Are you insane? The man worships the ground you walk on.”
Leila pulled a face. “He might come to his senses if he—”
“He could forgive you running off with another man, Lala,” Jazz interrupted. “He’s in this for the long haul.”
Inclining her head, Leila had to admit that Jazz had a point. “I’m actually looking forward to being married to him. I can’t explain it, but it feels almost... destined.”
“You two look meant to be.” Jazz turned back to the mirror, turning this way and that as she scrutinised her reflection. “So, you think I should take the dress?”
“Definitely.” Leila got up and walked over to her best friend. She lifted Jazz’s long hair and piled it on top of her head with the finesse of an ex-model. “You’re perfect, Jazz. With a hint of make-up, you’re going to look spectacular.”
Jazz’s eyes filled with tears. She turned around and embraced Leila. “Thank you for always being there for me, Lala.”
“Always,” Leila whispered, closing her eyes. Their friendship has stood the test of time and Leila couldn’t imagine her life without Jasmine Samuels.
Catherine stepped into the room and gasped. “Jasmine! You look phenomenal.”
Jazz pulled away from Leila, wiping the tears from her cheeks and smiling brightly. “Thanks, Catherine.”
Uri’s mother circled Jazz with an appreciative smile. “It fits you very well. You won’t even have to alter anything.”
“Until the pregnancy progresses,” Jazz reminded her.
“You know how to look after yourself.” Catherine turned to Leila. “Have you picked out a dress yet?”
Leila fidgeted guiltily. “No, I was too busy gawking at Jazz.”
“I don’t blame you, but you’re getting married first. We must get something soon, especially if it still has to be altered.”
“Yeah, Lala,” Jazz said. “I’ll help!”
Leila watched her friend unzip the gown with a laugh. “Okay, you’ve made your point. Where is my mother?”
“She said she’ll be right in.” Catherine placed her clipboard on one of the ottomans in the large dressing room and walked over to the mobile racks of wedding dresses the assistant had wheeled in about half an hour ago. “Do you want to get married in white?”
“I think that’s a bit presumptuous,” Leila answered. Then she remembered who she was talking to, her cheeks going pink. “I never gave it much thought, to be honest. I mean, white is fine, but...”
Catherine glanced over her shoulder with one of those small smiles. “That’s quite alright, daughter. Uri is not untouched, having been married before, and we live in an age where it isn’t frowned upon for women to experiment sexually before marriage.”
Leila blushed scarlet, rendered speechless.
“Let’s start with your favourite colour?”
“Navy blue, like Uri’s eyes.” Impossibly, her face grew hotter.
Catherine’s smile intensified. “Midnight blue for you, and silver for the bridesmaids?”
“Bridesmaid,” Jazz corrected.
“I keep forgetting it’s going to be a small wedding,” Catherine murmured.
Leila shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Would you have preferred a big affair?”
“Uri’s last wedding was a lavish one and look how that turned out. Besides, I want you to have the wedding you want, Leila.”
“Hmm, then I don’t think midnight blue and silver will work for me, after all.”
“I know!” Jazz exclaimed, grabbing Leila’s left hand. “Match your dress to the pink of your diamond!”
“I don’t even like pink,” Leila retorted.
“Lala, this pink is the exact opposite of the green of your eyes.” Jazz rocked back and forth, unable to contain herself. “Do you know how your eyes will pop?”
“Jasmine is right,” Catherine agreed.
Leila found it odd that Jazz didn’t mind that Catherine called her by her real name. “Do you really think so?”
“You’ll see!” her best friend insisted.
“Okay, then. What do I know?”
Sienna burst into the room with a delicate gown in her arms, looking flushed and animated. “Leila! I think I’ve found the perfect dress!”
Leila noticed that it was a light cotton candy pink and frowned at Catherine and Jazz.
“Telepathy,” her best friend shrugged.
“Coincidence,” her soon-to-be mother-in-law added.
“Put it on,” her mother urged. “I think it’ll look so good on you.”
Feeling as if fate was having a laugh, Leila obliged. The strapless, full-length chiffon gown had intricate silver beading and hand-painted designs on the bust. She loved the feel of it as she sashayed to the mirrors: it clung to her torso but billowed while she moved. She would be able to dance with ease on her wedding day, an absolute must in her book. She froze as her gaze took in her reflection. She had an out-of-body experience, viewing herself as a stranger would and not understanding how anyone could be this ethereal.
Am I really Ananke...?
“Oh wow,” Jazz murmured, distracting Leila from that train of thought.
“This is it,” Catherine nodded. “A very good choice, Sienna.”
Sienna beamed at Catherine.
“I love it,” Leila agreed. Her voice sounded different to her own ears.
“You should straighten your hair,” Jazz said, “and wear those teardrop silver earrings you have. We should get you a diamond bracelet.”
Catherine smiled. “I don’t know why I’m needed here. Jasmine seems to have everything under control.”
“Ha! Maybe when it comes to this, yes. I have no idea about the venue, catering, music... I don’t even know what to plan for my own wedding.”
“Luckily we’ve both been through this before,” Sienna said, linking arms with Catherine. “We’ve got you covered on that front. In fact, we’ll get right on that and give you two a moment.”
Jazz hugged Leila from behind, standing on tiptoes to rest her chin on her best friend’s shoulder. “Uri is a very lucky guy.”
Leila burst into tears. She glanced at the door and was relieved to see that the two matriarchs weren’t in the room anymore. Jazz let go of her and she stumbled over to a chair, holding her face in her hands while she cried.
“Lala, it’s okay,” Jazz soothed, kneeling in front of her best friend. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m getting married. Me, Leila Martins! How did this happen?”
“You met a guy who is really the best. A guy who is committed to making you happy every day of your life, until the very end.”
“Is he the right guy?” Leila whispered, looking at Jazz. “Why does it feel like I’ll never be enough for him?”
Jazz took Leila’s hands in hers, inhaling deeply. “You haven’t admitted this out loud, but Taine really hurt you. Don’t feel guilty about moving on, Lala. He ran away. You deserve more than that. Uri will always be there for you.”
She understood what Jazz was saying, but she felt like she was losing her mind. The man everyone knew as Taine Carmichael was, in reality, the God of Hell, Tartarus. He’d implied that she was a Goddess in human form, but how true was that if they couldn’t be together in this lifetime without dooming the planet?
This is too much for anyone to bear!
“Lala?”
She snapped back to the present, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. “You’re right, I’m just stressed. I mean, I’m getting married!”
“It’s a Christmas miracle! Maybe the world will end in 2012.”
A cold drop of sweat trickled down her spine as her friend’s light-hearted joke echoed her much darker sentiments. Leila forced a laugh. “As if I could cause the end of the world.”
You have, before.
Leila shook her head. “You’ll need to kick my ass if I get a silly notion like leaving Uri at the altar.”
Jazz brightened up. “Deal!”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.”
But the dread stayed in the pit of her belly for the rest of the day.
* * * * *
With only two weeks to go, Leila was doing her best not to get affected by her nerves. She went to work methodically, ignoring the jibes from her co-workers—“Barbie and Ken, getting married!” and “Who could have predicted two genetically perfect specimens would end up married?”—and enjoyed her evenings at home with Uri. He’d basically moved in with her, which suited her fine since she loved her apartment. It made her feel more secure amidst everything.
She hoped she was returning the love that Uri showed her. He gave and gave and gave and she wanted to match him every step of the way. She wanted to be enough.
It was Saturday, and she was waiting for him to come back from the gym. She’d donned his FC Barcelona shirt to show her support, even though she had no clue what European football was about, wearing nothing underneath. It fitted her like a short mini dress: it was ridiculous how tall her fiancé was. She was busy deciding whether she should drape herself seductively over the couch or meet him at the door with a beer in hand when she heard his key turn in the lock.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
Over the last few weeks, she’d felt permanently aroused even as she’d battled with her sense of unworthiness. Uri has been nothing but patient, seeming perfectly content to wait until she was ready to do more than kiss and a little heavy petting. Their showers were getting longer, their touches always lingering, and the foreplay had her nearly out of her mind with desire.
“Honey, I’m home!” he called.
“I’m in here!” she exclaimed, grabbing the bowl of popcorn she’d made and placing it in her cross-legged lap.
He smiled as he entered the room, his step faltering once he saw what she was wearing. “Barcelona, huh? Tell me the line-up.”
“How about I share my popcorn, and you tell me?”
He pouted. “Fine. You’ll watch the game with me?”
“I got all dressed up, might as well.” Her gaze followed him as he sat down next to her. “Besides, we’re getting married in two weeks. I have to start loving soccer—”
“Football,” he corrected.
“Football, yes. If I don’t learn, I’ll literally never hear the end of it. It goes ‘until death do us part’, remember?”
“I do.” He winked at the double meaning, seeming pleased when she laughed, and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “What am I supposed to wear?”
“Get your own shirt.”
“Isn’t that one mine?”
“What’s yours, is mine.”
“Right, right.” He gave her a lingering look, taking her in from head to toe. “Are you wearing anything underneath?”
“Nope.” She turned up the volume. “Are we going to watch the game or what?”
He took the remote from her and switched the TV off. “I’ll catch the highlights.”
The butterflies in her stomach experienced a burst of activity. “Aren’t you going to teach me the rules?”
“Which rules?” he countered, transferring the bowl from her lap to the coffee table.
“The, uhm, rules of engagement, or whatever.”
He trailed one finger from her knee to mid-thigh before that navy blue gaze made contact with hers. “It seems you have me engaged already. Off to a good start.”
She felt dizzy with want, dangerously close to giving in first. The only thing separating them was their clothes. She swallowed, looking at his lips, as he shifted on the couch to get closer to her.
“Is that so?” she breathed.
“Riveted, in fact. This was your intention.”
Even though he didn’t say it accusingly, she blushed, all the same. “Yes.”
That finger made it to the edge of the shirt, brushing the top of her thigh, although his gaze stayed glued to hers. “You want me to make love to you.”
Oh, God, more than anything!
She shivered, biting her lower lip, and nodded.
“You’re ready to let me in.” His hand gripped her, so close to where she was aching for him, while a muscle jumped in his cheek. “Completely.”
Whenever she had his full focus and attention, her insecurities vanished, and her confidence bloomed. She jutted her chin out even as her cheeks flamed. “All the way.”
“Oh, Leila.” He leaned in to kiss her. “How I have yearned for you.”
She melted as he dominated her mouth, her body arching to get closer to him. His lips, tongue and hands picked up where they’d left off earlier that morning, getting every nerve ending buzzing with frantic energy.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long,” she panted.
“You’re worth the wait.”
His words were as arousing as the rest of him. She closed her eyes. “Have you felt neglected?”
“Not in the slightest,” he assured her, “although I will if this is the only time you’ll have me.”
She rested her forehead on his. “That’s impossible. I’ll always want you.”
His answer was a strangled groan as he shut down their conversation. Soon, she was gasping for breath, burning while he set that leisurely pace he seemed to love. His touch was gentle even as it seared her with its intensity; his devotion as uplifting as it was primal. She felt adored, desired, as he took her to new heights. And once they were joined, she swore she saw a God in him.
* * * * *
Leila was now pregnant with his child. Following the tsunami and having been distracted since, she’d forgotten to take contraceptives, which meant their first coupling in months had sealed the deal.
Heaven on Earth will be birthed in 2012, right on schedule.
As promised, Leila had let him in completely, and he now saw the scars Tartarus had left. He had no doubt that she loved and desired him, too, but Uranus wasn’t sure that Ananke would forgive Hell when she Awakened in the God Realm. This made his vow to Tartarus that much harder to uphold.
Uranus was not accustomed to having three parties in his relationship. Yes, both he and Gaia have had their fair share of dalliances, but their commitment to their union and each other had always been their main concern. Here, with Leila, he loved her while fully knowing that she loved another; and in this mortal realm, he found himself succumbing to mortal jealousy.
“Brother.”
At first, Uranus thought he was imagining Tartarus sitting across from him. Once he realised that Hell was not a hallucination, his blood ran cold. He hurriedly walked to the main bedroom, where Leila was sleeping, to shut the door.
“Drinking alone?” Tartarus asked, lifting an eyebrow at the beer in front of Uranus.
“What are you doing here?”
Tartarus was back in his usual attire: a short toga with a leather breastplate. His blood-red hair was tied back. “I sensed you needed council,” he answered, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“You should’ve sent Gaia, instead.”
“She would not understand, and you know it.”
Uranus clenched his jaw, torn between his need to speak to Hell and the urge to prevent Leila from seeing Tartarus at all costs. He took his seat and gulped down the rest of his beer.
Tartarus smiled to himself. “The perk of being your counterpart is that I know you better than the others.”
“Then this conversation seems awfully tedious.”
“On the contrary. Just because I sense what you’re feeling does not mean I presume to know why.” Hell’s gaze became distant. “I assume it has nothing to do with her being with child. That should bring you joy. Relief, even.”
“You sensed it, too?”
“The moment it happened.” Tartarus snapped his fingers and two chilled, uncapped beers appeared on the coffee table. He held his up as he levelled his gaze on Uranus. “Is it not our nature to know these things, brother? We are the embodiment of life and death.”
Nodding, Uranus clinked his beer to Hell’s.
“Congratulations. It’s a girl.”
Uranus winced. “I know this hurts you.”
“That doesn’t matter right now.” They sat in silence for a while, sipping their beer, each deep in thought. “There is a complication. It’s highly likely that your daughter will fall in love with Jazz’s son.”
Uranus glanced at his brother. “That cannot happen. They’ll be cousins!”
“Falling in love with someone doesn’t automatically mean acting on it.” Tartarus smiled sardonically. “The probability lines are still fluctuating wildly, so it might not even be cause for concern. There’s still much that’s undecided.”
“She loves us both, but she’s only with me because you left.”
“She loves you more than you think.”
Peering at Hell, Uranus asked: “Why do you say that?”
“She feels farther away from me than ever. I fear—” Tartarus cleared his throat and swallowed down half of the beer.
“What a sight,” Uranus said in wonder. “Hell fears.”
“It’s been known to happen,” Tartarus snapped. “I’m not infallible.”
“That may be so, but you rarely share. Why is that?”
“Perhaps because I look at your life, the one in the Realm, and cannot fathom why you would ever want another. You have the love of a beautiful Goddess.”
“And that’s why you refuse to let anyone get too close? You are afraid that you’ll do the same.”
Tartarus hesitated for a moment. “What is it we always say? ‘The Gods love differently’. What if some Gods don’t? What if I can’t?”
“This is the last Age. Ananke could be yours, and yours alone.”
“As things stand, I’m less certain that Ananke will be mine, because of how sure I am that Leila is yours.”
Uranus frowned. “Why do you believe Ananke will change her mind? She’ll be able to know the difference between her emotions and that of her physical vessel once she Awakens.”
“Ananke is also a flighty Goddess.”
“Ah, like attracts like.” Uranus chuckled when Tartarus swore. “If you remain humble and vulnerable, she will feel safe to do the same.”
“Perhaps all will become clearer once Leila accepts you totally. Once she learns of the pregnancy.”
Silence descended between them once more.
Tartarus tugged at the label of his empty bottle, lost in thought, while Uranus finished his drink. He was relieved that Hell had joined him since Aether and Erebus would not have provided any helpful insight into the love triangle in which he found himself. With Hell, he didn’t mind letting down his guard.
“Was there anything else you needed from me?”
Uranus paused. “You should appear to Leila on our wedding day.”
“Are you insane?”
“She needs the type of support that her friends and family can’t give her. She needs to hear from you. She needs closure, Tartarus.”
“I can’t give her that unless I tell her about everything.”
“You’ve already shown her who you truly are. The rest won’t be difficult for her to understand.”
“You would go against the rules?” Tartarus asked, disbelief evident in his tone.
“Brother, no one has abided by the rules in this incarnation.” Uranus laughed softly as he rose to his feet. “We may as well try every avenue.”
Tartarus clenched his jaw, saying nothing.
Uranus sauntered to the hallway and glanced over his shoulder to the God in the living room. “Will you be alright, brother?”
“I’m fine. I’m always fine.”
When Tartarus disappeared, Uranus sighed: “Saying it does not make it so.”
* * * * *
Leila felt Uri get back into bed, and snuggled up to him. “Who were you talking to?”
“Myself. I’m known to do that,” he laughed softly, kissing her forehead.
“It sounded like a serious conversation.” She opened her eyes to gaze at him. “What about?”
“Marriage. You.”
Just as I feared.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, but I wonder about you.”
She heard what he wasn’t saying and, considering his history, she understood why. “What a pair we make, huh? You, betrayed by your ex-wife. Me, abandoned by someone who meant the world to me.”
“History has a tendency to repeat itself.”
“Not this time,” she vowed. “I am yours, and yours alone. I’m a woman of my word.”
The tension in his body evaporated as he pressed his lips to hers. “And I will be there until your dying breath. Trust me.”
As clichéd as that sounded, she did. She placed her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. “I’m happy you’re the one I’m marrying,” she confessed. “I always know where I stand with you. I’ll make sure that you always know where you stand with me, too.”
“I can live with that.”
“I know I haven’t said this before, but I do love you.”
Uri smiled. “I’d like to believe that you wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t.”
“I also wouldn’t marry someone if I didn’t see a future with them.”
“What do you see in ours?”
“Mutual respect and love,” she answered slowly. “We’ll live in the suburbs. And there’s a baby girl. I’m not sure if she’s our only child, but we have our hands full with her.” She blushed at the intense look he gave her. “I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’d like it to be true.”
He kissed her again. “Then it will be.”
This man...
If she allowed her insecurities to win, every word he said sounded like a line designed to ensnare her. Surely, he was too good to be true? And yet, she’d never met anyone more sincere. The thought of him lying was as impossible as a snowflake in Hell.
“Tell me about your ex-wife.”
“Only if you tell me about Taine.”
“You know so much already.”
“I’d like to hear it from you this time.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He shifted slightly, holding her closer while he spoke. “I met her in France at a conference. She’s a geologist. We hit it off and continued seeing each other for two weeks while we were both in Paris. She’s originally from Germany, so having a long-distance relationship nearly broke us. We eventually moved to Russia and got married, but continued to travel for work. I only found out about the affairs about a year into the marriage. I was devastated and filed for divorce.”
“Did she fight?”
“No, but the proceedings revealed what she was truly after: my resources.”
“What do you mean?”
“My parents are exceptionally wealthy.” The self-conscious look on his face was endearing. “I’m a trust fund baby.”
She gaped at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to make sure you love me for me, not for what my family can provide.”
So much for thinking he can’t deceive me...
“You lied to me.”
“I never lie. It just never came up.” Leila wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and it must’ve shown, because he added: “In the same way we never discussed Taine before. It doesn’t mean you’ve been lying.”
That put it into perspective. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I’m a bit... I don’t know.”
“Distrustful of men?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Then tell me about Taine.” When she sighed, he stroked her hair. “Don’t be afraid to show me your true feelings. I won’t judge.”
“I’m still confused when I allow myself to think about him,” she admitted. “At first, I thought he was a complete jerk, but realised it was a defence mechanism. He didn’t want to get hurt. Then we connected on a deeper level, and it changed everything.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, knowing there were things she couldn’t tell him. Suddenly, she understood the difference between lying and withholding information. “I’m glad it didn’t go on for years before he dumped me. He was always going to leave. I need someone to make me feel like I’m worth staying for.”
“You are, Leila.”
Her eyes locked on his, and her tumultuous feelings calmed instantly. It felt good getting it off her chest. He noted her worst fear, which was similar to his own. He would be good for her.
“Then I’ll stay with you,” she murmured, raking her fingers through his hair and kissing him with all the passion she possessed.