A Symphony in Shorts

Forever and Always

Forever and Always

Would you risk your life for love? When my best friend asked me that question so many years ago, my answer was quick, automatic. No. Today, if she asked me that same question, a completely different, totally opposite reply would come out of my mouth. It would begin with the now familiar quiver of my heart, followed shortly by a sharp intake of breath. A delicate blush would tint my pale skin pink, and his face would come, beautiful, vivacious, mine: eyes the color of the sky right before the sunrise, hair like a pile of crisp, golden autumn leaves, smile that lifts me up, up towards the sky and sends me flying. Yes.

Yes. A simple word filled with countless possibilities. Yes. If it were for Levi, I would do anything. Anything at all. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—live without him. He was my rock, the thing that got me out of bed each morning, the battery that kept me running. He was the laughter that bubbled up in my chest, the smile that turned my lips upward to the sun, the thought that took my mind off my duties to the kingdom. Levi was what kept me alive. He was the string that kept me tethered to a world full of happiness and joy.

Without him, I was just an empty shell of a person.

My corset was tight and scratchy underneath my flowing white dress. White rose petals were scattered across the long purple carpet that led up to the altar, up to my fiancé. Beside him was the bishop, beaming like a child on Christmas morning. I stopped my steady march to the altar, my heart beating into my throat. I couldn’t say “I do” to a man that wasn’t Levi. The conductor waved his arms to a close, halting the stream of music coming from the pit, and all eyes zoomed in on me.  

“Carmen, what are you doing?” my father, the king, whispered through a fake smile. I could see beads of sweat forming across his hairline. His gem encrusted crown twinkled from the lights pouring through the stained glass windows. The crown that would rest upon my dark curls once I became queen.

“I am sorry, Father, but I cannot marry a man I do not love.”

A gasp worked its way through the crowd like an avalanche down a mountain. What I was doing, it was scandalous. Never before has the future queen put love before duty. And it was ludicrous. Henry Scott was a very wealthy, very handsome man, and any girl would be lucky to have him as her husband. Even I had to admit he was a catch: long dark eyelashes, a strong jaw line, bright chocolate eyes, fluffy curls atop his head.

But he wasn’t Levi. No man, no matter how tall, rich, and charming could ever match my Levi.

I locked eyes with Henry. He looked insulted, dumfounded, angry. A small smile graced my lips as I prepared to bid the Duke goodbye. “I am sorry, Henry. I hope you forgive me some day.” Then, I wrapped my arms around my father, giving him one last hug. “And you, Father. I will always love you. Remember that. Maybe, one day, I shall return.”

“Where are you going?” he protested.

“To be with the man I truly love.”

Outraged words flew through the air as I walked through the double doors out of the church. And there he was just like he promised: breathing, living, and smiling. If you are ready to admit that you love me, I will be waiting right outside those doors on your wedding day, he had told me. Well, I was ready. I was beyond ready. I wasn’t a weak, impressionable, young girl any longer. I wasn’t the toy my father used to fix his kingdom anymore. I was in love. Snow kicked up as I ran into his arms.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

Then his lips met mine. And despite the scream that exploded from my father’s mouth, the shocked exclamations, and the loud thud that came from a body hitting the ground, I finally knew this was what I wanted. 

Levi. My Levi.

His love.

Always and forever.