Claire buried her nose into his chest, willing an indent to form so that her nose would fit perfectly into Will’s boyish chest. The couch was too small to fit both of them forcing the couple to press tightly together, not that it would have been any other way. Claire never thought that this would happen, that he would actually appear. Prince Charming was a made up man that she spent endless hours waiting for. She would lean her forehead against the chilly window wishing for him to appear and toss pebbles at the thick glass. But he hadn’t shown up that way. Instead Prince Charming strolled into a party at a Dave’s rotting apartment. Claire had a mixture of god knows what in her red solo cup as they lightly flirted with each other over the drunken swoons of other party-goers. It went from a stumbling hug to a short nap locked in each other’s embrace. Claire was shocked that it had turned into more, her Prince Charming actually remembered her later, and still wanted to see her. Before she knew it a year had gone by and they were still snuggling as tight as possible, fearing the other might slip through their tight arms.
However, he was not the Prince Charming she had expected. Will argued with everything Claire said, their constant bickering over nothing always escalated into a shouting match. Will had a past with girls that tore at Claire’s heart, imagining him saying the words she cherished, like I love you or you’re beautiful, to other girls. Will had a stupid haircut, it made him look like one of the Beatles, that Claire desperately wanted to change, but unfortunately he was loyal to his hairstylist. Will was Prince Charming, and despite the many ridiculous qualities that Claire wanted to fix, she couldn’t help but be in love. His stupid haircut was fun to mess up, she knew he loved her more than any of the other girls, and the arguing…well the arguing wrenched her apart, but Will seemed to think nothing of it, so why bother disagreeing?
This night was important to Will. He had rented a cabin far away from the opinions and drama of the people in their lives. The tiny cabin was barely bigger than the queen sized bed that pulled out of the once blue couch that was now closer to beige. The check in counter had provided VHS’s of movies that they had believed were high forms of art when they were six, such as The Goonies. As the classic treasure hunt film played, Will was squeezing Claire tightly, hoping she wouldn’t feel what was in his pocket against her sensitive skin. He knew without a single doubt that this was right, that she would be his forever and there was no way that his love for her would ever change. He found no fault in their relationship; after all, arguing is typical when you are in love. He knew what her answer would be when he asked the question, but his stomach was still somersaulting throughout his entire body, making the other organs very anxious.
When the movie finally came to a close Claire sat up slightly, partly squinting her eyes and raising the corners of her lips into a smirk, indicating that she was ready to advance the night. Instead of leaning in to kiss her Will pulled away and sat on the ground. As a line formed between her brows Will pulled out the small blue velvet box, effectively erasing that line and replacing it with arched and stretched eyebrows. With lots of confidence Will finally asked,
“Will you marry me?”
…
The moment stretched on and on as he waited and soon the line transferred to between his eyebrows.
“I can’t” Was her only response.
What else was she to do? There was a part of her that she could never share with him, a part that needed to be shared between married couples. If she didn’t have sex with him she was sure that Will would have to look to other women for it. As a child Claire had been born to a young woman taken in by a cult. This cult believed that women should remain pure until they fully committed themselves to the cult: mind, body, soul, and bank account. As a child they mutilated her, stitching her up so that no man was ever able to desecrate her “temple.” Sometimes this was easily reversible but the man with the shaky hands that had performed her procedure had stitched haphazardly making it nearly impossible to correct. She had been rescued from the Cult of the Bank (as her adoptive family named it since they were terrified she would go back to find it) shortly after the haphazard procedure. The rest of her life had proceeded normally, and she never even knew something was wrong until she was a teenager. Despite this impediment Claire desperately sought love and affection from her Prince Charming, but now that he actually existed and now that he wanted to be with her fully and forever, she didn’t know what to do.
Will froze, incapable of speech. He knew Claire’s heart; it was obvious that she loved him so desperately that it was close to obsession. But doubt began to niggle at the edges of his heart. Maybe it had been an act, maybe she loved someone else. Then he remembered she hadn’t said no, she had said she couldn’t. What the fuck did that mean? Did he still have a chance? Unable to formulate words as his tongue was busy rolling about his mouth refusing to listen to the brain trying to have some control, Will just sat there staring.
And Claire stared back.
Was this the moment to finally tell him? It would break her heart to have him refuse her over her mutilation. But could she leave it at that and break his heart? The silence dragged on, both of them unable to make eye-contact. The credits of the movie slowly showed the titles of all the songs and then came to a halt before the screen turned blue. Both of their hearts felt like a witch doctor had thrust his fist through their chests and clenched their hearts in his massive fist. Will began to shake with the fear that had settled like a blanket over him. Finally unable to bear the clenching of her heart Claire decided to tell him, she couldn’t break his heart even if he would break hers. As she spilled the story all over the cheap cabin room the witch doctors hand squeezed tighter and tighter, anticipating his reaction.
But Will reacted differently than she had imagined, he didn’t thrust her hand back to her side and storm out. Instead he remained silent with and even stronger look of confusion plastered over his face. Until finally, the expression softened into a look of concern. Claire knew this look, he was going to try and help her, fix her, make all her problems go away, like he always strived to do.
“We can fix this! We will make you all better; we can travel the world until we find the perfect specialist.”
“But what if we can’t?”
“We will honey, don’t worry.”
“But what if we can’t? How are you going to deal with that?”
“It will be fine; we can still do other things, but I am sure we can fix it. Now, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Claire responded. She felt hopeless.
No comments:
Post a Comment