Ever After . . .

Chapter 29

~America~

The next day the Illéan officials came. Marissa didn't go to school because of it.

I knew the routine. Check ups, tests, medications, and other things. They had told her that she would be leaving tomorrow. It was when everyone else was leaving their home provinces for the castle. They also apologized or being quick, and rushing her.

By the end of school they were gone. My mother, May, and Gerad had come over, and we began to cook. Marissa wanted a few friends over before she left, so might as well make enough food for them.

The table was set, and the food was hot on the table. Lucas and Gerad got their food first, then disappeared to who knows where. I don't blame them. I wouldn't want to sit at a table full of girls, and be the only two guys. I would track Lucas down later anyway.

The clock read six, and Marissa's friends came knocking on the door. There were about five of them, they were here to help Marissa pack, and wish her luck.

She was lucky to have friends like that. I never really had friends growing up. May said it was because I was rude, and short tempered. I blamed it on Mom homeschooling us. Because of that I never got out unless I had to play for a party.

Marissa's life wouldn't change much after the Selection if she didn't win. She was already a three, she would remain a three. But she would be thought of highly if she lost.

Thinking about that made me miss my life as a five. Despite the fact we never really had the money for nice things I enjoyed my life. It was simple. Earning money for doing something that I loved. Now I was teaching others what I loved. The only thing was that I wasn't performing anymore.

That thought lead me back to the Festival. More importantly when Maxon made me sign up for the talent show to play my violin.

Maxon. My heart ached at his name. I wanted him, and he had made it clear that he wanted me. Yet there was so much between us for us to be together anymore. If it was seventeen years ago when he got married it would've been different.

Before I know it I'm the only person sitting at the table. Marissa and her friends left upstairs, and May and Mom were cleaning up.

"America?" May asks.

"Hm?" I turn my head to face her.

"You're thinking about him again aren't you?"

I look down. She knew how to read me. "How did you know?"

"I've seen that look on you before. You wore it the entire first year after the Selection." She sat down next to me. "It'll be alright. Marissa will be fine."

It's not Marissa that I'm worried about. I think to myself. Honestly it was Maxon. Kriss being a Rebel, Clarkson hurting him, there not being a Rebel attack since I was at the palace.

That made me think. There hasn't been a Rebel attack on the palace since I was there. Northern or Southern. Was it me that both sides wanted? Or was it what I had? There was no way of telling. But I did know that the attacks during my Selection increased when I was there. Maybe because there were so many people there, or was it of me?

I clean my spot, and help finish the dishes. Mom and May crash on the couch, and I go upstairs to my room.

Passing Marissa's room I hear laughter, and giggling. Her door is slightly ajar. I peak in and see all of them on Marissa's bed looking at something. There were clothes in two piles on her floor. I continue to walk to my room.

I close my door behind me. I look around my room for something. Well more like two things. Two painful things.

I find one on my dresser where it's always been, and the other underneath my bed coated in dust. I set them both on my bed.

One was a picture frame with a photo of me and my ex husband. We weren't really husband and wife. We were more like partners. We weren't married when we had the twins but we told everyone we were because we acted like we were. He had preposed to me the night before the fire that killed him. His name was Miles. I had put that photo of us in the frame to cover another painful memory.

With shaky hands I undo the back of the gram to reveal what I had been running from the last seventeen years. Once the back was undone I pulled out the photo. Only this one wasn't of Miles and I. It was of Maxon and I. It was one of the first photos taken of us.

We had went on our first date of the Selection, and there was a hidden camera to capture us. I smiled at all of the memories before the pain came back to me. My hands shook as I looked at the photo. We were so young then. My smile, my hair, my eyes were all brighter. Even his complexion was brighter. Maxon had sent me this photo about a year after the Selection. The photo was too painful to look at so I put a different one over top of it. Now it didn't seem as bad.

He had sent a letter with it. An apology letter. Saying that this was supposed to be my gift on our anniversary. But instead of doing it for Kriss with a photo of Kriss in it he shipped it to me. The gesture was nice, but painful.

Two years later he sent me this box. It was navy blue, and heavy. A letter was attached to it. He wrote that I wasn't supposed to open it until I felt ready to open it. Which meant never. I felt like it was another desperate excuse to win me back over. The box hadn't tempted me once. That is until now.

I had shoved it under my bed hoping that maybe another fire would come and burn it up like it did Miles. But fifteen years later it was still here.

It was just as heavy as I remembered it being. I set the frame next to the box, and blew off the dust. It went flying through the air making me sneeze. Once the dust had cleared, I carefully opened the lid. Underneath was wrapping paper keeping what it was protecting protected. But on top was a letter. I open it and begin to read.

America,

This may sound like another desperate attempt to win you back, but it isn't. You've been on my mind day and night. I thought I figured out the reason. When I thought you were the one I started to put this together to give to you one day. Turns out it would be never now. It has been sitting on my bookshelf haunting me, and taunting me. I played it off as another piece of work to Kriss and my father, but it wasn't. It was my gift to you. This is the last piece of you left in the palace. It's hard to get rid of it, but maybe it'll be better off with you than with me. I have no idea when you'll open this because I don't want you to open it until you wanted to open it. I guess if you're reading this letter then that means you're ready. I'm so sorry for hurting you. I didn't want to be like your ex boyfriend, but I didn't know how to react in that moment in time. I still love you America Singer, and I always will.

Tugging my ear whenever,

Maxon

I set the letter aside, and inwrap the wrapping. What I find underneath brings me to tears.