SCARLET
I’ve been staring at the name on the headstone for a while now.
A name I hold so dearly in my heart.
A name that evokes sweet memories, at the same time, painful emotions.
Ivanna Miller.
“I miss you so much,” I whisper, running my fingers against the headstone.
“I wish you were here.” I sigh.
“I need you.” The last words barely leave my throat.
This is the only place that makes me feel closer to her.
The conversations are always one-sided, but, what else can I do?
I take in a deep breath, trying to fight the tears threatening to fall, again.
I feel like shit, and the night is overwhelming.
My emotions are all over the place.
My eyes sting.
I must have cried a few litres of tears.
I don’t want to be an emotional mess.
I hate it.
But again, after what I just discovered, controlling myself seems like a full-time job.
I needed someone to talk to, and I didn’t want to stay in that mansion any second longer.
I thought, who’d understand me better than my dead mother?
I sit before my mother’s grave, with a bottle of vodka by my side.
The night is cold.
The cemetery is quiet and the security lights do not provide enough light to see clearly.
Am I safe, sitting alone at this time of the night in the cemetery?
I’m not sure.
Do I care?
Of course not.
I just want to sit here, close to my mother, sipping my bottle of vodka.
I don’t think anything else matters right now.
It feels like my world has been shuttered, and I think the dead would understand better.
My phone dings, warning me of low battery.
Time displayed on the screen, 12:13am.
I know it’s late, but again, I don’t care.
*
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FOUR HOURS EARLIER…
I’m so nervous.
Why, you may ask?
It’s the eve of my wedding!
Yes, I’m getting married to the love of my life.
It’s a day I’ve been eagerly waiting for, since Kelvin Harrel proposed six months ago, on my birthday.
Truthfully, the entire process has been hectic.
There’s an urge for perfection.
I’d beat myself up if anything went wrong.
The announcement of our wedding date evoked a lot of discussion.
Some said we’d set the date too soon after engagement, others went ahead to advise us to push the date forward.
There was a funny suggestion: we cancel everything and start anew.
The latter was the most ridiculous, and I remember laughing out loud when my friend suggested it.
The former, however, sounded logical.
It would have eased the pressure.
In the end, I took none of their advice.
What mattered most was that I always had my man by my side.
He would hold my hand and say, “Babe, it’s our wedding. We should be the ones to decide, and I want to make you my wife as soon as possible.”
Currently, I’m in my room, in bed, smiling to myself when I recall his words.
He was right.
Everything went smoothly after that.
In the end, we did it!
I shuffle out of bed to have a look at my wedding gown for the millionth time.
It’s still as beautiful as the first time.
I fell in love with it at first sight.
If it had a soul, then that was the moment we connected.
I run my fingers on the material, the smile never leaving my face.
After walking around, I take a deep breath.
“This is really happening,” I whisper.
Yes, it is.
Half an hour later, I’ve prepared myself for the big celebratory dinner.
I’m not sure whether that is a tradition, but our families are having a joint dinner tonight, to celebrate the upcoming union between the Harrels and the Millers.
Dinner with my in-laws on the eve of my wedding?
In fact, from what I know, a groom is not supposed to see his bride the day before the wedding.
I only agreed because I didn’t want it to be an issue.
After all, it’s good to maintain a perfect relationship with your in-laws.
What’s the worst that could happen?
I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror when Karen suddenly walks in.
“Hey, sweetheart, dinner is ready. They are waiting for you,” she announces, walking towards me.
I smile when she gets close and holds my shoulder.
“You look so beautiful,” she compliments.
I’m in a black, floor-length dress, with tiny sleeves, and a slit that goes way up to my left thigh.
The dress doesn’t hug me, as it’s a little loose, but it’s perfect for the occasion.
I have my hair tied into a bun, with a few strands hanging on either side of my face.
My makeup is light, because I’d told myself I was preserving my face for tomorrow.
I’ve prepared my appetite for Karen’s delicacy.
She’s usually a magician in the kitchen.
All my life, I’ve been enjoying her food.
She has shown me a few of her recipes, so I would cook for my husband after the wedding.
“Now, let’s go see your in-laws,” she says, taking my hand to lead me out of the room.
Indeed, everything is set, and I was the only one running late.
The table is jovial, as lots of laughter fill the air.
Kelvin’s parents are seated next to each other, at the right of my father, who’s in the head chair.
Next to them is Kelvin’s sister, Stacy, who waves at me, smiling.
She then pats the empty chair next to her, calling me to take that space.
She’s a darling, and we get along so well.
Except, tonight, I’ll have to pass on that offer.
“Are you trying to steal my wife?” Kelvin speaks up, referring to Stacy.
“Shut up, Kelvin, she’s not even your wife yet,” counters Stacy.
“Ignore her, babe,” Kelvin turns to me as I walk over to sit next to him.
When I’m settled, he places his hand on my thigh, making me shoot him a glare.
What is he trying to do in front of our parents?
“You look so beautiful. Are you trying to tempt me into eating you before the wedding night?” He whispers to my ear, making me blush.
Those fluttering comments usually go straight to my heart.
“I’d never jinx it,” I tell him, slowly peeling his hand off my thigh.
I wouldn’t want to get body reactions in front of my in-laws.
I prefer preserving myself for our honeymoon, where we’d have all the time to ourselves.
The dinner goes well, with our parents mostly talking business.
The Harrels are insistent on us having a joint business.
“We could have joint shares at the MPH,” Robert, Kelvin’s father, suggests.
He’s talking about Miller Private Hospital, and I immediately know what my father’s answer is going to be.
“After all, our children are getting married, it would be a joint family business for the grandchildren to inherit,” Josephine, Kelvin’s mother, adds.
Kelvin and I steal glances at each other when she mentions grandchildren.
I know exactly what ran through his mind, but I brush it off, to focus on the topic.
“I’ve already thought of a joint name,” Josephine says, ignoring my father’s words.
“We can change it from MPH to a combination of Miller and Harrel. Think of…MIRELL. That would be a legacy, don’t you think?”
“Wow,” Stacy, who’s been silent all this while, speaks up.
“That was great thinking, mum.”
“MPH is not just business. It’s a place that means a lot to this family. Let’s call it something sacred for my family. I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to that,” father gives his response.
“But Scarlet is the heir to MPH, it would still be the same. Besides, aren’t we family now?” counters Robert.
The Harrels don’t get what my father means.
It’s my mother’s legacy we’re protecting here.
It’s not supposed to be something like a business transaction.
“We can start something else. Just not MPH. There’s no debate about that,” father declares.
The little debate is interrupted when Kelvin’s phone rings.
He quickly slides it out of his pockets, stares at the screen, and then gives me a glance.
“It’s one of my patients. I have to take this. I won’t take long,” he says, before disappearing to pick the call.
My father tries to spark up a different conversation, not willing to talk about MPH.
Once we’re done, Stacy and I help take the dishes to the kitchen.
It’s been over twenty minutes and Kelvin hasn’t returned.
Is it strange?
Could it be that his patient has an emergency?
I want to think that way, but I suddenly have this pit in my stomach.
I shouldn’t ignore my gut feeling, should I?
Hello loves…
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Author Mirelle_21.
Back, better and with great things to offer.
Reconnect with me as we dive into this amazing love story.