Of Literature & Kisses (Forbidden Romance)

Chapter 39 - Alessandra

(From Jamie's POV)

Alessandra. She had done exactly as she promised me two years ago.

"James. Even if I were to die, I would linger. One day when you least expected it, I'd come back."

I looked at her as though she were a madwoman. She only smiled very softly, the gesture adorning the features of her eerily perfect face.

"You don't sound like yourself when you say those things, Alessandra. Be careful with your words."

She crossed over to me, layer her hand against my chest. "You're too perfect. How can a woman stay sane around a man like you?"

"I'm not perfect. Neither are you. It's part of the human condition, and the sooner you realize it, Aly, the sooner you'll find peace."

I gently removed her hand from me and walked onto the balcony, feeling those cat-like eyes looming in the distance. It was getting hard to hold the pretenses, and even harder not to walk out that door right then and there.

Celia knew about her.

Somehow, even through my most diligent attempts, a part of her had lingered and been discovered by the one woman I wished to hide Alessandra from.

What could I say? What had she, the woman who recked my life for two years, left behind for another to find in her place?

It had been a summer wedding in the Nantucket coastline. A buddy from high school was getting married to a fine woman. They had decorated the venue in white and blue, a nod to the groom's Greek heritage. I had come alone, regardless of the plus one. I had no one serious to bring to a wedding, and bringing someone I didn't know very well would only add the unnecessary worry of ensuring she had a good time. Other friends would be attending, and it could be a good moment to catch up between too many nights of work and study.

The reception party was now in full force, and I hung with some guys by the bar, listening to music as we brought up memories through laughter and drinks of whiskey.

Someone's hand circled over my arm as I finished a story, softly enough to make me second-guess I had even been touched at all. Surely enough when I looked to my side there was a woman, average in height and slender in build. Her body wore the dress, it didn't wear her, and it clung to her every curve in deep, blood red. Her hair fell in a pin-straight cascade of deepest brown, nearly black, by the start of her tiny waist. Full lips, giant smile, graceful voice, olive skin. Her eyes were a vivid green, almost neon in the dim lights.

The guys grew silent. I did too.

"Hi," she smiled, a wide display of perfection on an already flawless face. Unbelievable.

"Hi yourself," I murmured. "Can I get you something?"

"How about a dance?" She asked.

She didn't have to speak another word. I felt the envious, star-struck stares of the men behind me as she led me away, but I didn't look at them once more for the remainder of the night.

The irony of Alessandra had been in the veil of perfection. Flimsy and ephemeral, like an enchanted object out of a fairytale, some spell cast over it to disguise the poison inside. Eventually the spell would have to fade, revealing the trap you'd fallen for.

How could I tell Cece, the most amazing person I had ever met, about the biggest mistake in my life? A mistake, a period of time, that I was guilty of pretending as though it had never taken place. For months I had known Celia, for months I had harbored for her feelings that were too strong for me to quell, even when it would have been the most ethical choice. She had told me everything about her; her family, her fears. I couldn't say the same about myself. It was only now that she was facing me, asking me to reveal the worst of my past.