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And now that I know what I'm capable of, can I really blame her for running away.

I inch closer and attempt to draw her close, but she flinches at the contact, twisting the knife expertly as I let out a painful sigh and withdraw my hands, preparing to get up
and face
my demons in private. But she stops me from leaving by leaning towards me, and placing her head on my shoulder as she silently weeps on me.

"Shh, hush now, come on Beth" I whisper in pain, a lump forming in my throat as I stroke her hair, soothing her where I hurt her. I rest my chin on her head and close my eyes to breathe her in. She smells of lemons, of blooming jasmines and honeysuckles, with just a tinge of apples. The old sense of familiarity has me kissing her hair for comfort. For giving and taking it. She clings to me, clutching her hands on my collar as she weeps her heart out.

And they slice me in two.

“Ssshh, now, shhh, Beth please don't cry. Stop crying. I'm so sorry duchess, I'm so sorry."

I frame her face with my hands and look into her eyes before repeating,

“Please, blue eyes, come on, no crying. Please Beth, please?”

My pleas must have finally gotten through to her, as she wipes her nose with the back of her hand, giving a loud, childlike sniff. I smile at her, abruptly reminded of a 5-year-old Beth.

"I… Cannot… Aaaaanswer…. Yyyou", she cries against my chest between hiccups. I shake my head and hold her closer to me. If the answers are so painful, I don't think I want them. Besides, they aren't as important to me as this moment is, when she's finally in my arms.

So, I got no answers, and nothing was resolved. But for this brief moment suspended in time, it didn't matter.

A few minutes later, I feel her body go limp against me and I find her fast asleep in my arms like old times. And just like old times, I pick her up and carry her to her room, oddly content with the feel of familiar weight in my arms.

I place her on the bed, tucking her in beneath the soft covers after and listen to her sigh in peaceful contentment. After watching her sleep for a minute or two, I turn around, ready to leave, when she sighs again, this time louder and a little anxious. Or maybe it was my hopeless imagination, running rampant with the joy of finally getting to hold her like this, not wanting to let go of the pleasure yet. For once, I don't question my motives, and pull up a stool to watch her sleep for as long as I can. If I can do this for her, give her a night of untroubled peaceful sleep, then I will.

For as long as she needs me

9. The bitter realization

We were standing outside the Tanner house! After 3 years of self-imposed absenteeism, dad had decided to renew the acquaintance by visiting them personally. For my part, dad had been unusually secretive, not even hinting me about the visit. So here I was, dressed in a yellow sundress, my hair impossibly disheveled, my nose Rudolf red from the cold weather, my body practically frozen, and my heart beating uncomfortably fast.

After 3 years of endless traveling and globetrotting, I was finally standing outside the one place I considered home.

“You’re shivering Beth. Should have put your coat on” my father chided, trying for a sterner expression than the lopsided grin he managed. I was way ecstatic to take notice.

“And you should have told me where we're going before bundling me in the copter dad", I replied exasperated, but still happy. Very happy.

I could hear the impatient stomp of advancing footsteps, before the
door finally
opened.

And then the familiar old screams began.

“Beth,, EEE EEE hh
, Oh my God, Beth, mom ,MOOMMMM,,, dad, look who came bearing gifts.
Moooommm,” Kate was shrieking and yelling and laughing, all at the same time. She pulled me forward in a king size hug, and we jumped up and down like two clowns, making enough racket to wake the dead. A minute later, I saw aunt Clare running down from the parlor, as she enfolded me within the familiar cocoon of her arms, smelling of lemons, and old books, and well, mother. I inhaled her greedily, rubbing my face on her shoulders, and saw that dad was similarly occupied with uncle Jonathan, albeit more manly. They looked like two brother bears, laughing and slapping each other’s backs. Then uncle Jonathan extended the same courtesy to me, with a milder pat on my head.

I grinned back, massaging the spot. He laughed at me and patted again.

In my utter state of euphoria, my eyes didn’t notice him descending the steps. But my heart must've been alerted when it began to beat wildly, loudly, freely, like the December winds.

“Is that all you could find to wear duchess, or are you winter-proof"?

I turned around, and saw him standing on the last step of the staircase, his brown hair windblown, his eyebrows quirked in mocked condescension, his eyes glinting mischievously on a face more angelic than my wildest imagination. And watching him so, my heart stopped beating altogether.

He approached me slowly; his eyes appraising my lack of winter wear with a frown. Or the frown could be a product of my windblown hair and unkempt look. But I couldn't find it in myself to care.

I stood like a nitwit, incapable of speech and half faint with happiness, as I watched him come to me. And then he gave me my favorite grin, my Nicholas grin, wrapping me tight in his arms, and my heart resumed its staccato rhythm.

“God, you’re freezing Beth”, he whispered against my forehead, raising goose bumps on my flesh. He placed a swift peck there, and my toes curled in pleasure. I was fourteen years old and stupid and hopeless in love. And I was never never going to wash my face, ever ever again.

“Dad flew us from Carolina without telling me”, I murmured.

“Surprise huh?” He shrugged off his coat and draped it around me, rubbing my hands with his own. It didn't help that my hands were probably sweaty and I had the most stupid goofy grin on my face. I was home.

Elizabeth chronicles-December 2
This diary is the property of Elizabeth Whitfield

“Wake up sleepy head”

I turn around and attempt to tune her out. I had been up for the most past of last night; first watching Beth until she had finally succumbed to a dreamless relaxed sleep, which didn't happen until the middle of the night. And then I had returned to my room to snatch a handful for my own, where I dreamt of her in trouble, crying out for me in fear. I woke up in a cold sweat, ran to her room to check on her, and after ensuring that she was indeed, safely sleeping, finally made my way towards the Game room, giving up sleep altogether.

And so I'm cranky and irate this morning, on top of sleep deprived.

It doesn't help matters, with Kate practically shouting in my ears, evoking spasms of pain that ricochet in my head. I consider slugging he just for the pleasure of it, but reject it an instant later in lieu for her well-known penchant for violence. While I ponder upon my options, she begins chanting commands in successively louder frequencies.

“Go away Kate, far far away", I growl, burying my head beneath a deck of pillows.

"Its 11 ‘o' clock your doziness, and your friends are waiting for you in the parlor."

And you're way too cheerful at 11 in the morning.

"What friends? I don't know any friends. Now go away", I groan, ducking beneath an extra pillow.

"I can see you are your usual cheerful self this morning. But tell me, has the late hour sleep got something to do with you sneaking out of Beth's room like a thief in the middle of the night?"

Darn it. And I thought I was careful. Kate's open-mouthed guffaws prove otherwise.

"I was checking on her, not that it's any of your business. I thought I'd heard something weird in her room".

"Hmmm, well, be that as it may, the entire clan is waiting for you downstairs. And just Fff !Yyy ! Iiii!!!, Taylor was last seen sniffing around Beth, fueled by the rumors of your break up doing the rounds in the valley."

That has me getting up and jumping on the bed so fast, I nearly hit my head on the bedpost in the process. Her ear-piercing giggles resound on the newly painted walls, making me regret not decking her earlier. I decide to table that thought for now.

Dressing quickly, I go downstairs, skipping two steps at a time and almost upsetting my balance. A dark haze obscures my vision, and thoughts involving my fists and his face, fill every inch of my brain.

I see him standing against the porch swing next to her, their back facing my front, and his right hand twitching behind her back, as if wanting to touch her.

I see red.

And then I notice the assembly in the parlor. The surprised frowns and knowing grins focused on the pair of them. Some cheer, some whistle, while others bark words of encouragement. None of them notices me, or the expression of absolute shock on my face.

Because according to the valley, and according to
me
, we
were
broken up. It happened six years ago, and all the wishing and pretending in the world wasn't going to change that. She was free to date whoever she wishes to date, and I was no one to say otherwise.

And the realization halts my racing steps, brings my aching miserable heart to a standstill.

"So, what do you say, Beth? Movie this Friday?" I hear him speak, and compose myself with an effort before the now hyper aware crowd.

"Wow, no one invited me to watch. How unfair!" I announce coolly, and the crowd gives collective gasps of surprise and anticipation.

I watch them watch me, watch
her
watch me with a look of horror on her face. Watch
him
smirk as he angles his head towards her. And I do not move a muscle, do not speak a word, do not so much as breathe, while they wait for the outburst.

"Good morning, Elizabeth. Sleep well?" I ask sweetly, hiding my anger expertly behind a venomous smile.

"Nicholas", he nods at me, while Beth flinches as if coming out of a daze, and swiftly realigning her body away from his. I do not bother acknowledging the gesture or its implications.

“Hey, carry on. Don’t let me interrupt”, I whistle through my teeth, smiling charitably as I make way towards the kitchen in a fake search of food, while my gut churns with helpless rage, threatening to spill over the Big Mac from last night. If push comes to shove, and things become too difficult to handle, I'll spill it
on
him.

"There is nothing to interrupt", she answers at the same time he says, "methinks, the lady thou protests too much" with a lecherous glee, the sick fart.

The lady doth protests too much, you miserably whiny uneducated lout.

"And methinks you should leave it alone if that is the case", I answer with a full mouth, stuffing it quickly with toast and jam. If this continues, I'm definitely throwing up on the desperado.

"Why don't you convince her for me", he suggests slyly, and I have a sick feeling that the asshole was doing this on purpose. Making a spectacle out of her, to get a rise out of me.

"Dude", I begin, then wash down the ill chewed toast with milk before calmly adding "if you think I have that kind of power on her, you're delusional. Maybe you should move on, you know, try your philandering prowess on someone who's more receptive, perhaps?"

That shuts him up for a full minute. I begin to exhale in relief thinking the bastard will keep it that way, but he squishes my hopes when he spouts "I hope my actions wouldn't earn me a split lip this time", grinning like a Cheshire cat, to which I reply just as sweetly "Well, some people just don't learn their lessons, do they?" finally stilling the audience.

“Just kidding. Haha. Anyways, as entertaining as that was, I refuse to believe that we’ve gathered here to watch the show. Are we really this bored with our lives.”

Another round of gasping ensues, this time of distinct relief.

"Not quite so, darling", someone speaks in my ears and I turn around to find Drew, her eyes mocking and her lips stretched in a teasing grin.

"Enjoy it"? I whisper, and she smirks in response. I let out an exaggerated sigh. She arches one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and continues to regard me with mock severity.

“So, what’s with the circus this morning?”

"We came here to discuss our plans with you", she replies, baffling me.

Okay! What plans?

She reads the obvious confusion in my eyes and answers, "Well, since most of us would be returning to our jobs, or leaving Valley the next week or so, I had planned a little outing for us."

Now a
little
outing was probably an understatement, going by the number of
guests
in the parlor. I also know for a fact that Drew rarely plans small events; now flashy and lavish,
that
was more her forte.

"Define outing", I demand in a voice full of skepticism.

"Stop being so skeptical. We were planning a vacation to Mount Saint Ann's this weekend, just us friends for a couple of days. The weather is awesome, and it's snowing there and we'd get to build snowman and snow castle and snow dwarfs and snow…… “.

“Okay, okay I get the picture.”

Frankly, her enthusiasm is infectious and I find myself painting a similar picture.