Loving Aedera

The words are like rancid honey, a sickly-sweet poison that coats my tongue in a thick layer of regret. We are both still, holding our breaths as if the words will disappear if we don’t acknowledge them, if we stay as quiet as humanly possible.

But they hang there, bearing down on us, demanding to be recognized. The weight of truth is oppressive, suffocating. And there is no denying my words rang true. They’d remained caged in my heart like a feral animal. Clawing, fighting, stalking for the right time to escape. The right time to flee from my lips no matter the destruction they left in their wake.

I’m left wondering if holding my breath is still a choice or the consequence of loose lips. Maybe, if I’m so still Death wonders if he should claim me, Nial will magically forget the cursed truth.

I look anywhere but at him, my eyes darting around the room. The gaudy floral and gold teacup I’d been sipping from moments before rests on the oak end table at my right. I can barely see it in my peripheral vision—refusing to move my head lest I break the spell—but I know it’s there, its contents long cold. My leatherbound journal rests on its face near Nial’s feet on the brocade rug, I’d thrown it to try and conceal the ring box he dropped when his smile fell.

I curated this room carefully. Spending months to choose the perfect paint color (Nocturnal Gray by Benjamin Moore), collecting bits and bobs of brass from antique stores, reupholstering a wing backed chair to match a thrifted ottoman. I know every inch of the room yet now it feels foreign, it feels like betrayal.

This study used to be my safe haven, my quiet place to expel all the thoughts too dangerous to voice. A fortress to lock away the truths too harsh to speak, the honesty too sharp not to wound. All undone with one slip of the tongue.

Suddenly, I inhale. The room zooms back into focus, making me dizzy. Death will not claim me today, though I wish the ground would swallow me whole and drag me to the Underworld. I stop avoiding the consequences I know wait for me behind Nial’s gaze.

“I’m—”

I pause, not wanting to insult him further with a half-assed and empty apology. The truth is out and needs to be confronted. The pain needs to be acknowledged.

“Why?”

His voice is coarse gravel, slightly scraping my ears with the raggedness of heartbreak.

I sigh, biting my tongue so my heart doesn’t speak without the filter of my mind. I needn’t cause more anguish today.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of love,” I finally say.

“So, what then? All of this was a game to you?”

Bitterness coats his words, adding an edge intent to inflict pain. I don’t have the heart to tell him I’ve grown numb, resolved with what I am.

“I loved the idea of you, I suppose. You were the first sign of kindness and hope I found. There was something...safe about you. I didn’t intend to deceive you, not really. It was selfish to think I could possess something good in this world.”

I’m close to talking too freely, revealing too much. The truth is like a geyser inside of me now, bubbling up and up with nowhere to go but out. Despite the danger it can lead to, it's refreshing. Nial’s brow lifts with confusion.

“I don’t know what I am exactly, a witch, fae, siren...all I know is I’m not human. One day, there was nothing. The next, I crawled through thick, tarry mud, clawing my way up in search of something, in search of light. I emerged naked in the bog that was here before the city, here before humans settled this patch of earth and erased its natural form.

“I lived in solitude, numb and waiting. What for, I wasn’t exactly sure. Then, I wandered out of the small thicket still permitted to exist and into the expanse of steel and concrete that now grew unnaturally from the earth. Its people were as harsh as its materials. Until you.”

The day we met is hazy from nearly a decade of suppressing my truth. I see flashes of a warm smile, darker curls that are now peppered with gray, and an innocence that reminds me of a daisy. His light an incandescent glow in a world that had grown blue, cold and digital.

“You deserve so much more than I am able to give, Nial. I am truly sorry for the time I wasted. I wanted it to be real, hoped that if I played along it eventually would be. But the feelings that poured so easily from you never came. Even your light was not enough to warm my heart and chase the darkness from me.”

I slump back into the wingback chair. With my toe, I gently nudge the ottoman toward Nial. Offering a token of peace, encouraging an area to rest.

“Sit,” I command, breaking his stupor.

He listens. I wonder how much of our time together I unknowingly magicked him to do my bidding, to remain blissfully content in this parasitic bond I developed. I don’t wish to know the answer.

“Aedera, what do you think love?”

Stoicism paints his features, dulling his usual warmth.

“Love is a fickle, elusive beast. It mocks my cold, withered heart. It’s something for humans and the gods, but not for the in-betweens like me.”

Slowly, he leans forward; his callused hand gently touches my cheek. I lean slightly into his warmth like always. A ghost of a smile briefly dances on his lips.

“Who has told you that you can’t love and be loved? Despite your instance, you have loved me, Aedera. You love in subtly. A small caress here, lingering touch there, but it is more than that. Your entire being tunes in to listen to my ramblings. You anticipate what I need before I’m even aware something is needed. You love through comfort, through respect, through companionship.

“You say I am your light, your warmth in this world. Is it so difficult to believe that you are mine? I was charmed by your difference and stayed because of your kindness. You are not as cold hearted as you were led to believe.”

His words sound as foreign to me as I’m sure my origin sounded to him. Is it possible I have been wrong? Have I been the author of my own torment and misery this whole time?

“I can tell you need more time, need to discover your truth. So, if it’s okay with you, I can love you enough for the both of us until you have the answers your heart desires.”

I gaze into his amber eyes. The silence is different this time, filled with what I think is hope. My breaths are even, matching his. I realize how in sync we are, how easily caring for him has come to me. It’s as easy as breathing. We lean forward, foreheads touching gingerly. I place my hand over his that still rests on my cheek, savoring his warmth.

Our kiss is a slow summer day, carefree and joyous. Bees buzzing from flower to flower, getting drunk on pollen. It is flowers in full bloom, fruits lush and ripe for the picking. But mostly, it’s hope.

It is an unspoken vow of agreement. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps I do love him. Regardless, I take solace in the fact that he will remain in my life until I discover what I am so I can become who I am meant to be.