Alec & Circe
The more Alec and Circe were together, the more they looked forward to each other’s company. Each morning, Alec looked out the lighthouse window, thinking of her, and it was always her boat he wished to see. More often than not, he found himself disappointed. Though each time Circe arrived, it became more and more difficult for her to leave him.
Weeks had passed without a glimpse of Circe. Alec had spent this time fishing for black-lipped oysters. His reading informed him that these kinds of oysters didn’t exist in these parts of the ocean, which made him even more eager. Alec busied himself, cracking them open and collecting the rare black pearls forming inside.
The rare pearls belonged to Circe as much as he did, and he had to show her in the only way he could think of for a man who’d come from nothing.
On the fourth week without her, he sailed to the mainland.
He anchored his father’s fishing boat and took the rowboat the rest of the way. As soon as he reached the shore, he dragged the wooden boat out of the water and sat it atop the sand.
It was a two-mile walk to the market. Notes from violins and cellos yanked him closer, and when he turned the corner, melodies flowed down the cobblestone streets. Every note was a portal into the places inside of him only Circe had touched, and the thrill of seeing her multiplied with every person he passed.
Tents lined the curved road, where townspeople sold saltwater fish, pastries, freshly baked pies, herbs and oils, and loaves of bread, to name a few. Adorn a Living Soul read across a banner as he passed handmade jewelry, bracelets and necklaces much fancier than my black pearls.
Though people swarmed the square, none of them were Circe. Defeat filled the hole she’d left in his chest.
A young boy with dirt-smudged cheeks and a fiddler’s cap covering his stringy hair had his mouth cupped when he shouted into the crowd. “Bread’s baked every mornin’. Come get it before it’s gone!”
Alec crouched down until the two were face to face.
“Did you make this all by yourself?” he asked.
“No, but Mama Mae does.” The boy hooked his thumb to behind him. On the other side of the table, the young boy’s mother sat, wearing a flour-caked apron, rosy cheeks, and a proud grin for her boy. There was no customers in front of the table stocked with bread. Alec didn’t know that the town had shunned the young boy and his mother since their arrival in Weeping Hollow. “You can’t get bread fresher than Momma’s, I swear to yah.”
Heartbreak consumed Alec, and he flashed a smile for the boy’s sake. “How much?”
“A fiver and nothing less.”
“A fiver, yeah? You’re a tough one.” Alec dropped a silver dollar into his small, outstretched palm. It was the last of Alec’s savings. With no sight of Circe, there seemed to be no use for it any longer. “For you and your mama.”
“Wow! Thank yah, sir!” As Alec walked away, he ripped off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth. “Momma, look! Can you believe it? A big silver coin! Have yah ever seen anything like it? Sir, why don’t yah come back tomorrow mornin’ and try Momma’s hotcakes?! I promise yah, you won’t be disappointed!”
With a mouthful of bread, Alec turned on his heel to wave his farewells.
Then his arm fell to his side when his eyes caught on to Circe’s face.
The sight of her made his chest ache with a sea of tangled emotion.
He’d often read stories about falling in love, but love was an ambiguous thing. Love wasn’t something he fell into, but something that had become him.
She was wearing a bright smile and talking to an older woman who seemed to be in her mid-forties. It took all of him to resist rushing to her and scoop her into his arms. Instead, he hid behind a tent and watched from afar.
A man approached Circe and gripped her bicep with enough force to cause a bruise. Circe’s smile died on her lips, and she turned her head slightly so that this other woman would not notice her discomfort.
“My wife does not parade around a market where Heathens are present. Furthermore, this is certainly not the place to discuss it. I’ll be expecting you hours well before sundown,” the man whispered into her ear, though Alec could not hear from the distance between them. But Alec noticed how he was dressed, his long black coat, pressed pants, and shiny shoes. And Alec especially took notice of the way this man touched Circe. It took otherworldly strength to remain still as he fixed his wrinkled shirt and adjusted his linen sleeves.
Leaving Circe’s side, the man scrunched his face and wasted no time in the square.
Stricken by sudden anger, Circe picked up her skirt. “Lacie, I’ll need some fresh air,” she said, and when Lacie, her maid, began to follow, Circe raised her palm. “Alone.”
When Circe stepped away, Alec knew this was his chance.
He followed her along the dirt pathway. She had her hands clasped behind her back when she walked, and Alec thought she walked with grace after what the man had done to her.
When she turned the corner, Alec reached for her hand and slipped the bracelet he’d made onto her dainty wrist. He squeezed her fingers and whispered, “My Circe,” into her ear.
The sound of Alec’s voice made Circe’s heart stumble as if it were to trip from between the bones of her ribcage and roll right out of her chest. But she also did her best to remain unaffected so that no one would notice. Oh, how it was hardest to stand in his presence and not melt.
When the two turned the corner, she scanned her surroundings in one sweep to find they were alone. Then she grabbed Alec’s hand, pulled him between the apothecary and market, where only the sun could see them, and spun into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, examining Alec’s face as he plucked a stray hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
Alec took her hand, interlaced his fingers with hers, and pinned their togetherness to his chest. “I had to see you.”
Circe couldn’t speak, and her breathing turned shallow, so Alec spun a black pearl from the string wrapped around her wrist. “Each pearl was a day spent thinking of you while without you.” He sighed. “Circe, I am going mad. Please don’t force me to make a necklace next.”
“You found these yourself?” Tears formed and clung to the corners of her eyes. No man had ever made something for her. When she shook her head, one of her tears fell and splashed upon her heaving breasts. “Alec, I—”
“Who was that man? Is he the one bruising your body?”
Circe’s jaw snapped shut. She cast her eyes downward and he watched as she took a full breath. “My husband.”
Alec raised his brows.
His stomach twisted into knots.
“You’re married to him,” he said. “How could you be married to him?”
Circe shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Alec looked away.
“Alec, look at me,” she said, grabbing his face until his eyes set on hers. “Even if you could understand, it does not matter. I’m strong, Alec. And I may spend my nights with him, but you are my only thought in those dark hours. I swear to you, I only think of you.” She pulled him to her until her spine met brick, and he melted into her. “I’m yours,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m eternally yours.”
It seemed as though the world was falling away around them. It was only Circe and Alec under the sun, the only thing that had witnessed their love story, quivering and wrought in lust while harmonies from violins stroked the delicate things inside their chests.
Alec cupped her face and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
Circe’s legs weakened from the jolting sensation, and Alec fisted her skirt. “Leave him,” he pleaded. “We can sail away and never look back.”
Circe didn’t need a moment to think. For all she knew, punishment would always be awaiting each time she returned to a life she loathed. She desperately wanted to leave Weeping Hollow, escape the madman she called her husband, and be with Alec.
“Missus Cantini!” gasped Lacie.
In an instant, Circe and Alec parted from each other.
“Lacie,” Circe acknowledged, fixing her skirt. She laid a palm against her chest and gripped her sapphire to hide her panicked breath. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people. It isn’t polite.”
Lacie glanced at the strange man she found kissing Missus Cantini seconds before. She could only imagine what could have transpired between the two if she hadn’t stopped it. “I was worried about you. Please introduce me to your ... friend?”
“There’s no time,” Circe replied. “He was just on his way.”
Circe turned to Alec and whispered, “There’s something I must do first. Do you remember where we first met?”
Alec’s gaze sailed to Lacie, who was strumming her fingers along her crossed arms, then she twitched her nose up at him. “I remember,” he said through a tense jaw.
“Tonight, meet me at the witching hour.”
Alec’s gaze slammed into Circe. “Not a moment later, or I will come for you.”
“I will be there. I promise.”