Stained Glass Shards

13.

My dreams were filled with fantasies that rivaled the scenes in Tucker's films. Playing the romantic lead, he had always been the gallant gentleman who whisked the heroine off into the sunset, but in real life, I had remained his woman in the shadows. Always in the dark. Darkness was where we had found physical pleasure, and I had experienced despair. My dreams had been the only place where things remained bright and rosy. Where his golden aura blazed a promising path for us. In my dreams and fantasies, I had envisioned all the milestones couples go through—courtship, engagement, marriage . . . children. I had never been the little girl who marries her dolls. The doll wearing a paper towel dress with a crocheted doily for a veil, barefoot before her plastic groom, who stood nude because his jeans and t-shirt were less than appropriate for the occasion. There were no tissue paper flowers adorning the plastic couple who married under the rays of sunlight in front of their four-bedroom "dream house" while the other single-expression dolls celebrated the union. I would have been more than eager to marry Tucker at the courthouse, just the two of us in civilian clothing, with the sounds of anxious couples and their attendants waiting their turn. Afterward, we would have returned to my tiny studio and consummated our matrimony with takeout and wine, our bodies entangled in the sheets as we reveled in our sealed bond. Optimistic. But dreams are just that—unrealized wishes that live in obscurity.

--Iliana Gardner, Stained Glass Shards

GRIFFIN

Had we ever gone on a date?

Elyce looked so nervous, scanning the one-page menu. There were only three options for the main course. The other servings were pre-set by the French-trained chef.

I wanted this night to be perfect. She was perfect. I had often noted how special and beautiful she was, but at that moment, staring at her flawlessly highlighted tendrils and delicately natural makeup, I found Elyce stunning.

The weight loss highlighted her strong, angular features and expressive eyes.

Had she changed herself for Ritter?

"So tell me about Ritter Thorman," I said.

She looked at me quizzically, seemingly gathering her thoughts."He's my agent."

"Is that all?"

"That's all you need to know."

"So you're single?"

"I'm not discussing my private life with you, Griffin."

"Oh, so it's Griffin."

"That's your name."

"That's what you call me when you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry, Griffin."

"Griffin," I smirked.

"What's this all about?"

"Can't two good friends have dinner? Catch up?"

"Only if they're truly friends, and I wouldn't categorize us as such."

"Then what are we?" I asked, a twinge of hurt stabbing me in the heart.

"We're former friends with really fucked-up benefits," she seethed in hushed tones.

Her face is reddened with controlled conviction, but she seemed to mind the presence of the other diners and staff within the room. She had training. Her parents, both college professors, had ensured that each of their children was prepared to be a member of high society. And her brother, Lark, had made it big. Huge. But Elyce had rejected his help, preferring to remain common.