To Change a City (Divergent/Eric) 3 of 3 COH Series

Chapter 11 (Eric's POV)

I open my eyes revealing that I'm laying beside my gorgeous wife and I smirk. Last night was amazing. Every night with her is amazing, every single moment for that matter. I caress her bare arm as it's resting over me. She's always so cool to the touch. I pull the blankets over her and she doesn't wake. She must still be exhausted. I smirk at that. The things she said to me moved me, though. She told me how dear she holds me, how much I mean to her. I sigh in contentment, so glad to have her as mine. There are times when I doubt my worth and last night was no different. I have my doubts with her still in the back of my mind, like a voice whispering in my ear telling me I'm not good enough or that I've done too many terrible things. I never feel like I deserve her or anything that I have for that matter. But she's constantly telling me how much I mean to her, how important I am in her life. It's nice to have the encouragement, the reassurance that she values me.
Then, I think about what Four had said last night, how he didn't want me to leave the room without telling me he's my brother, that he loves me. His words to Nita cut me deeply. Hosanna's insistence that they weren't true helped, but to hear it from him... well, that meant so much.
And there's Elizabeth. I can't believe she'd rather be with me than our parents. That just baffles me. I didn't even think she really liked me. She's my sister and of course she loves me—we're family—but to choose me over my parents... I just don't know what she's thinking. We have the greatest parents. Perhaps she really just doesn't remember them or see what I see when she's around them. I am surprised by her choice but I'm also grateful, too. Even being separated by two different factions, she was always on my mind, worrying about her safety. She is my family and she's always been there for me. I couldn't imagine a world without her in it... maybe that's how she feels about me, too.
I feel a cool caress along my cheek. I blink to see Hosanna's face before mine. She kisses me gently with her soft lips. "You looked so sad. What's on your mind?" she asks me quietly.
"I was thinking about Elizabeth," I admit.
"Doesn't it make you happy?" she asks me hesitantly.
"I'm ecstatic. I almost can't believe it, actually. My parents are so wonderful. I'm curious what she sees in me," I admit.
I meet her eyes with mine and her smile is so wide, dimples so deeply set. "The same thing that I do: life without you is imaginable. You complete us," she replies.
I laugh at her words. I'm flattered really, that she would say something like that.
"You know, your dad spoke with us both also, afterward. He placed her hand in mine and said that I'm her new mother, that you are her father. He told her to respect us as such. He's so understanding but I know he's heartbroken, too.  I don't know if your mother knows yet though," she says trailing off. 
"I won't say a word," I tell her kissing her temple. 

*****

We meet the others joining us this morning in the lobby.  Hosanna looks to her watch, checking the time.  "What's the matter?" I ask. 
She bites her lip.  "Matthew isn't here.  He said he'd be here and he's always punctual," she tells me. 
"Did you call him?" I ask. 
"Twice," she nods.  "No answer."
"Do you know where he lives?" I ask. 
"Yeah, it's kind of on the way," she says.  "Just past actually."
"Let's go then.  We should see him on the way and if we don't, we'll see if he's home," I say.  I don't want to be late.  Whenever we are, we have the attention of the entire congregation interrupting the service and I hate that.  I've never been to this one before but my guess is everyone knows us more so here than on the inside. 
My wife leads the way.  I hold her hand and turn when she pulls me in different directions through the compound.  We get to the area near the train and it's not nearly as crowded as I expected.  It is Sunday morning though and I guess most people either sleep in or have other plans.  We arrive to a building where everyone is flocking and I change my mind about where everyone is that's up—most of them are here.  This place is huge—and I thought it was a massive crowd watching that boxing match on television before...
"Why don't you guys find seats in that section over there?  Save us three seats.  We're going to see what's keeping Matthew," my wife says. 
"Are you sure he's coming?" Tris asks. 
"Unless he's hospitalized, yes.  He never misses a service.  He comes every Sunday, Wednesday, and on special services, too," she explains. 
Tris nods.  "We'll be back soon," Hosanna confirms waving.  I take her hand again and we make our way to a residential section.  We walk up some stairs and this area reminds me a lot of what Nita's apartment looks like from the hallway—my parents' though, too.  I guess they all look alike from the halls.  Hosanna stops and frowns.  She peers over the railing.  "What is it?" I ask. 
She shakes her head.  "This is where Matthew said they met.  He told me that he accidentally dropped some paperwork over the railing.  She was down there and picked it up and brought it to him," Hosanna says. 
"Who, Nita?" I ask. 
She smiles.  "No, Emily," she explains. 
"Oh," I frown.  This must be the same stairwell she died in... but lower since the damaged live in the bottom levels. 
We walk up a couple more floors.  I realize that the area where we were before took keys.  Up here, there are those same scanners that my father has.  There is a listing of approved guests on my parents'.  Lizzy, Hosanna, and I all added our fingerprints to their list.  We arrive at a door and she knocks.  We wait... no answer.  She knocks again.  "Matthew?" she shouts.  She presses her ear to the door. "I hear music," she whispers.
She touches the keypad. It comes to life, ready to scan. A few pictures come up and I hadn't seen this before, just the scanning portion. She scrolls through the list of people as accepted guests. I see her pass Amar's picture, then George. She lands on an image and gasps, pausing. There's a picture of a young girl with short, dark brown hair. I read the name: Emily Scott. My wife sighs harshly and gently scrolls past a few others I don't know, then Riley's information, before finding her picture, her name. She puts her thumb on the keypad. The door slides open. I can hear the music now, louder than I expected.
"Matthew?" Hosanna calls out. She steps in and I follow. It's much smaller than I expected—more quaint than my parents' place. I hear the music stop and screech. It sounds like strings hit on an instrument to stop the reverberation.
"Matthew?" Hosanna says again.
"In here," he responds. I hear a sniffle and I know what's on his mind. We walk through a compact kitchenette and see he's seated on the sofa. He wipes his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well last night. I hadn't even realized what time it is," he apologizes.
He sets down the guitar in his hands and slumps on the sofa. Hosanna takes the seat beside him and I sit in a chair. "What's wrong?" she asks concerned.
"It's been a year today," he tells her solemnly just staring.
"I'm so sorry," she replies softly, sniffling as well. She leans against him and my heart aches at the sight.
"The worst part is..." he starts, rubbing his face. "I'm already having feelings for someone else. I feel guilty, like I've barely mourned for her, you know. I was so in love with her," he says. He picks up a picture from the coffee table. I see a small box beside it, small enough for a ring...
"She's only been gone for a year and I've already moved on. That's not right," he shakes his head.
"It's okay to have feelings for someone else. Matthew, she's gone. She would want you to move on. You will never forget her and how much she meant to you, but she wouldn't want you to be an empty shell of the person she once knew. She would want you to be happy, to find someone who makes you happy, makes you feel complete," Hosanna says glancing at me and smiling slightly.
He nods. "I know you're right. I shouldn't feel guilty. I should still live, even though..." he says. I see him gulp, Emily's necklace bobbing on his neck. He sighs again.
"Can I ask about her?" she inquires so softly I almost don't hear it.
"Yeah," he responds.
"Who is she?"
He laughs. "It's silly, actually. We've never met," he replies.
"So you've seen her around the compound?" she inquires.
"Something like that."
"Why don't you ask her out sometime?" she encourages.
He shakes his head, "It's not possible. That could never happen."
"Why not?" Hosanna persists.
"Can we... can we just drop it? It will never be allowed. She's out of my grasp. It's just a silly fantasy," he explains.
Hosanna frowns, but concedes. "Okay, I'm sorry." She leans her head on his shoulder. He pats her head like I do with my sister and I do see that between them—they are friends, good friends and that's all. They've helped each other through hard times in life but he'll always just be a friend. "You know what might make your day a little better?" Hosanna smiles.
"What?" he asks.
"Worship," she says.
"Yeah," he agrees. "That's what got me through that first month until you two came to visit."