[REBECCA]
I descended the stairs, greeted by the heartwarming scene of Lynda, Bernadette, and Camilla gathered in the living room. Bernadette’s knees were engaged in a rhythmic bounce, Princess nestled on her lap, their interaction an attempt to amuse the small canine companion.
As my gaze swept over the tableau, an involuntary smile etched its way across my face. The unexpected sight before me was a testament to the depth of these connections.
Aunt Bernadette, the role seemed incongruous at first glance. The transformation was astonishing – Bernadette, once reserved and distant, had evolved into a devoted aunt. This facet of her, while not frequently displayed, radiated a clear and undeniable fondness for Cevia.
Unlike the gentle dispositions of Camilla and Lynda, Bernadette’s demeanor bore an inherent coldness. Her visage perpetually held an air of detachment, her gazes devoid of emotion, and her smiles reminiscent of an empty abyss.
Yet, subtle moments punctuated her steely exterior, moments that hinted at a more tender soul. In those fleeting instances, a genuine smile illuminated her features while playing with Cevia, a softness in her eyes belying her usual aloofness. These occurrences were infrequent, but they didn’t elude my notice – they revealed the hidden depths of Bernadette’s love for Cevia.
Furthermore, Bernadette’s affection was lavished upon Cevia in a manner befitting of an indulgent aunt. The spoiling was evident, adding a layer of doting care that was at once surprising and heartwarming.
Beside Camilla, I came to a halt, enveloped in her embrace. As we parted, I inquired, “When did you arrive?”
“Merely a few minutes ago. I’m here to assist with the wedding plans,” she responded, a tinge of disappointment shadowing her words. “Unfortunately, my boss is making things difficult. There’s a project with another company that demands my attention. But I’ll return a day before the wedding.”
My smile held a touch of understanding as I embraced her once again. “That’s sufficient. Your presence during the wedding is what truly matters. After all, you’re my bridesmaid.”
Amid the exchange, the cooing of Cevia redirected my attention. A damp chin prompted me to step forward, yet Bernadette was already addressing it. Swiftly, she wiped away the drool with a small baby towel, murmuring, “I’ve got this.”
Camilla’s voice then danced through the room, her admiration evident as she cooed at Cevia and praised her adorable outfit. “Who dressed her so charmingly today?”
“Artemy did,” I chimed in, barely managing to suppress my amusement.
Laughter from Lynda accompanied her remark. “Goodness, she truly has everyone wrapped around her tiny fingers. It’s beyond endearing!”
My nod affirmed the sentiment. Brayden, Avim, and Leon had all assumed the role of godfathers, a decision that had turned into a playful competition among them. The trio’s rivalry had culminated in my resolution to designate them all as godfathers – the more, the merrier.
Ultimately, their shared adoration for Cevia eclipsed any differences. My gaze shifted to Lynda, witnessing her gaze fixed lovingly upon Cevia. The smile that formed on my face was instinctual, born from the certainty that Lynda would be Cevia’s godmother from the outset.
While Lynda bore the weight of her past loss, a pang still lingering in her heart, her pure affection for Cevia was undeniable. Each of her smiles at the child seemed to erode the shadows of her past, a testament to the slow but steady healing process.
As the hours waned, discussions of the wedding held our focus, the shared deliberations culminating in a harmonious decision. Eventually, Lynda and Camilla departed to manage the logistical aspects, leaving only Bernadette and me.
Bernadette’s silence struck me as unusual. Time had molded a connection between us, not as profound as with Lynda or Camilla, yet a genuine camaraderie existed. My preconceptions of Bernadette had undergone a revision. True, she retained elements of rudeness and detachment, yet the passage of time and the bonds forged by Lynda and Camilla had ushered her into our circle.
She might not have chosen it willingly, but Bernadette had become an integral part of our group, a testament to the transformative power of shared experiences and growing friendships.
“I’m here if you’d like me to hold her,” I offered, nodding toward the slumbering Cevia nestled in Bernadette’s arms.
Bernadette shook her head, a serene assurance in her eyes. “It’s alright. I’ve got her.”
A calm hush descended between us, and after a brief pause, I cleared my throat, my voice finding its way back. I positioned myself next to Bernadette, my fingers tenderly caressing Cevia’s tiny head. It was a gesture she always adored.
Amid the tranquility, I mustered the courage to broach a heartfelt subject. “I’d like you to be my bridesmaid, along with Camilla.”
Beside me, Bernadette’s composure shifted, the air around us charged with expectancy. Then, an absolute silence enveloped the moment. I moistened my lips, feeling the weight of my words before finally meeting her gaze.
“You want me to be your bridesmaid?” Her disbelief hung in the air.
I responded with a soft-spoken affirmation, barely audible. “Yes, we’re friends. I genuinely want you to share in this wedding.”
A wry chuckle escaped Bernadette’s lips, each sound tenderly subdued to avoid unsettling Cevia. “Rebecca, I’ve been intimate with your husband, and you’re asking me to be your bridesmaid? You do realize how illogical that sounds, right? We might have a friendship, but we’re not that close.”
Her words struck a chord, yet I steeled myself against their impact. I shrugged, managing a gentle smile. “You’re not wrong. But my feelings for you are genuine. Don’t try to shield yourself with coldness, Bernadette. I see past that facade. Beneath it all, you care, and you desire companionship despite your attempts to conceal it. We all need friends, Bernadette. You matter to me, just as Lynda and Camilla do. Accept this, and let’s cease the resistance.”
The sincerity of my words hung between us, a truth I’d been yearning to articulate for weeks. Bernadette regarded me silently, a deep inhalation preparing her next response. Then, unexpectedly, a genuine smile adorned her face, directed solely at me. “I recall a time when you despised me.”
Returning her smile, I countered, “You didn’t exactly adore me either.”
Bernadette shook her head, her attention drifting down to Cevia cradled in her lap. “Hate is a strong word, Rebecca. I didn’t hate you. ‘Jealous’ might be the right term.”
The choice of word caught me off guard. “Jealous? Of me? Why?”
Bernadette’s smile vanished, replaced by a detached demeanor as she explained, her voice carrying a monotone weight. “When you came into the picture, everything changed. I didn’t appreciate it. The sudden transformation of Artemy, from cold detachment to love for you, it didn’t sit well with me. After all, I’d been with him for a decade.”
Before I could interject, she continued, her tone unchanging. “I was fifteen when I met Artemy. Fifteen when he found me in that dim alley, battered and bleeding. He rescued me. He became my role model. You know what transpired two weeks later? He led me into a basement, pushed me forward, and handed me a knife. The man tied to the chair before me, he was the same man who had tormented me. I didn’t question Artemy. The why didn’t matter. All that counted was the man in front of me. I was fifteen when I was introduced to this life, recognizing it was what I craved, what I wanted.”
Her icy gaze bore into mine, sending a shiver down my spine. “I enacted my revenge that night. I ended his life in cold blood, with Artemy standing by, proud of me. Proud that I had killed. Artemy, Rebecca, is a devil in human guise. He lacks a heart, devoid of mercy. You can’t comprehend the extent. And I was his equal.”
My heart faltered, and I dropped my gaze, struggling to process her account. I was acquainted with Artemy, but Bernadette’s narrative revealed an entirely different side. “I remain his equal,” she declared, a slight smirk crossing her lips.
“But only in our realm.” She left her words hanging, her finger grazing my chest.
“Because you possess his heart. I’ll never have that. I don’t desire it either. I’m void of emotions. I relish being detached and unfeeling. Yet you entered the scene, and suddenly, everyone was immersed in emotions. Artemy cared. Perhaps I was envious. I shared a decade with him, and he never cared. But then you came, and everything altered.”
Swallowing hard against the surge of emotions, I managed to speak. “He cares. You’re part of this family. He cares about all of you, Bernadette, including you.”
Bernadette nodded, another smile gracing her features. “I know. So no, I didn’t hate you. You were right. Artemy and I were purely physical. No emotions, ever.”
I remained silent, my thoughts in a whirlwind after absorbing everything Bernadette had confided in me. Was there a pang of envy knowing that Bernadette had been with him before me? Undoubtedly. Yet, the significance of that was fading away.
Artemy had made his choice.
Interrupting my reverie, Bernadette’s voice broke through, jolting me back to the present.
“You want me to be your bridesmaid,” she declared.
Surprise widened my eyes as I responded, “You’re willing to?”
Bernadette affirmed with a nod, her attention drifting towards Cevia, who was gradually awakening. With gentle care, she passed my daughter into my arms, and I cradled the warmth of her small form against my chest.
“I suppose I’m somewhat backed into a corner, aren’t I? After all, you’ve already decreed that we’re friends,” her words held a self-deprecating mumble.
It was a journey of incremental steps, akin to the tiniest of footprints, yet it was happening. In its own delicate way, we were finally finding our way to each other.