Time's Forbidden Flower (2 page)

Grasped in my hand, a lace handkerchief with a blue bow served as a reminder of my discomfort. “Um, Lily,” Donovan’s girlfriend, Anna, had timidly said while handing me a box. Her formfitting, navy blue suit tastefully accentuated every voluptuous curve. “I bought you a little something. My aunt had a similar one. Her marriage lasted thirty-one beautiful years, so I consider it lucky.”

Now Anna’s sweet gesture only added to my jitters. “Donovan, I'm so anxious that I can't hear myself think. Am I doing the right thing?”

His words were almost hypnotic, relaxing me into a near trance. “You're doing exactly what you're supposed to. You have a long and happy life ahead, and I'm going to always be with you making sure you don't blow it. I remember all you've ever wished, and I'm going to ensure we get everything we've ever desired. It’s all just a matter of time. You ready for us to take that walk so you can put the shackles on your scrawny dreamboat?”

“You're such an ass. I guess you really are back to your old self.”

“Did you doubt I wouldn't come out unscathed?”

Silently opening the door before us, Donovan kissed my hand one last time before walking me down the aisle. Once Donovan handed me off to Christopher, the universe ceased to exist as I looked into the peace of the blue-sky eyes before me—the only something blue I needed. In that sky I saw no clouds, no clutter—only admiration, protection, and a soul I loved boldly and freely. As we said our simple, “I do’s,” and his lips touched mine in interminable commitment, my heart soared above the heavens.

“Ready for round two?” Donovan asked as we stood outside the entryway of Manchester Cathedral. My previous wedding attire now benefited from the addition of a cathedral length train and a tastefully sparkling tiara.

“Bring it!” I exclaimed. True wedding excitement filled me. The thumping of my blood was the loveliest melody I had ever heard. Again the happiest music had come from Manchester.

Donovan planted a kiss on my head that resounded in my ears as we rounded the corner into the gothic cathedral. The church’s towering stone arches and soaring ceiling were not high enough to contain my swelling heart. The vicar’s rambled words flowed over me. I couldn’t be bothered with his formalities; I had eyes to stare into. Eyes of such a beautiful color I once said I wanted to bottle it so it could forever paint my heart. Those eyes had done exactly that, and I was completely lost in them when they suddenly darted to the floor as Christopher began his vows.

“It seems silly to take vows today. Vows are something you take from a moment forward, which would imply that what I feel is new. I’ve felt the same way about you for years, but I couldn’t act on it when I wanted. When I finally could, my true vows began. I promised to be everything to you that you will allow, to stand by your side, to respect every nuance of you whether I understood it or not, and to share every bit of my being. You bring out the best in me, and I will remain faithfully by your side and by the sides of our future children for all of my days.”

My heart had fallen into Christopher's words to the point where I had to be nudged to say my own vows. “I will never lose sight of the amazing and sensitive man you are. I will be your strength when life fails you, laugh with you in good times and struggle with you in bad, and be the best that I can for you and our children, no matter where life takes us or what challenges lie ahead. I will always love you, and I will live in joy with you, for as long as God allows.”

The floodgates of emotion crashed down for us. Christopher and I threw away pretense and sealed the words from our lips by bringing them together without the customary permission. We had each other, and nothing mattered but that and the road ahead.

After the main event concluded, I found the one thing I let Grace talk me into was well worth my caving. When she suggested we have the reception in the cathedral I thought she was insane. A wedding? Yes. But a full-on party in a church? Isn’t that sacrilegious? However, we were in Manchester, a place known for music and life. The cathedral was no stranger to hosting raging parties and worked with caterers and event planners to turn the place into a hopping, colorful nightclub.
 

Christopher and I sat with Grace, Donovan, and the men Christopher refers to as his fathers. Christopher fed me a bite of hazelnut sponge cake with Williams Pear mousse, and my taste buds sang while Keith continued one of his stories of their band’s past.
 

“So Eric makes like the clappers and heads off stage only to trip on a cord and take a nose dive into the wings and straight into a guard. Lucky sod was then dragged off behind a curtain and waited out the crowd that ran by, screamin’ their bloody heads off. Meanwhile, I’m trying to get out from behind my drums as the birds attack. Not only did they shred me new shirt, they took my cymbals! Those things cost a bloody fortune!”

“See what you’ve got to look forward to, Lilyanna?” the burley Derek laughed. “Now that you’re the trouble and strife of a soon to be famous musician you’ll have to fight the birds off your man.”
 

Donovan was all too quick to catch on to the meaning. “Trouble and strife is right. That’s a piece of slang that requires no explanation. She didn’t need to become a wife for it to fit though.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said. “You’re such a perfect joy at all times, D-boy.”

“Actually, tonight he has been quite the charmer,” Grace said, her bright blue eyes leering as she stroked the stem of her glass, looking a little too enamored with her new son-in-law. It was time to get her off the sauce.

Eric jumped to the rescue. “Come on, Grace. You owe me a dance.”

Derek patted Donovan on the shoulder. “I’m off for some Britneys at the Ringo. Want one?”

“Okay, wait. Give me a second.” Donovan looked like he had just enough alcohol for math to hurt as he tried to decipher the code. “Britney…Britain…”

“Think of the singer.”

“Britney… Spears… rhymes with…beers… Ringo Starr must mean bar.”

“Hey! There’s hope for you yet. Want one?”

“I’m good, thanks. Hey, Christopher, mind if I steal my sister for a dance? They’re playing our song.”

Donovan hadn’t referred to me as his sister in years. It sounded… alien.
 

As we hit the dance floor, Donovan pulled me securely into his arms, as if staking a flag into the moon.

“Our song? Since when do we have a song?”

His stupid grin was infectious. “Since years ago when every piece of sap that came on the radio reminded me of you. Basically, every song is our song.”

The relief of the day nearing a close reflected in his eyes, or had he partaken in the open bar too much? “Have you been sampling the champagne?”

“A little, along with one or two other things.”

“Please don’t tell me you are trying to keep up with Christopher's fathers. They’ll have you under the table with your pants up a flag pole in five minutes.”

“Oh, no way,” he beamed with rosy-cheeks. “I may not be the sharpest knife, but I’m not spending my one week of summer vacation trolleyed and razzing.”

“Wow! Look at you! It didn’t take you long to learn the local vocabulary.”

“With those guys it’s either keep up or shut up. They’re a challenge. I’m going to miss them when I return home.”

“And I’m going to miss you,” I said emphatically. “Though this week had its awkward moments, I feel so much more complete when you’re around.”

The kiss he laid on my cheek released a resounding
smack
. “Me too, but I have a lot to accomplish. Give me a few years. If you still want me around, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll never stop wanting you around.”

His bold smile, that he had worked so hard to genuinely find, morphed into one of a man who had loved and lost. “I really hope that proves to be true.”

That November, Donovan flew to my home in Los Angeles for what would become an annual Thanksgiving visit. While I encouraged him to bring Anna, I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming emotions that flooded me when the doorbell rang. My mantra that had begun the night before—
You are happy with Christopher. Donovan deserves happiness too
.—brought me peace until that moment. This would be the first time my eyes rested on Donovan since my wedding. When that diversion was over, the reality of my feelings came back to bite me—thus I hid in the kitchen like a coward while Christopher greeted them.

There was no way I could face
them
together—
them
being both Donovan and Anna, and Donovan and Christopher.

Donovan immediately came into the kitchen in search of me. Without pretense he took the knife out of my hands and tossed it on the cutting board. He then pulled me into a bear hug and hoisted me off my feet, spinning me into a giggly fit. By the time my feet reconnected with the ground, my tension had dissipated.

After a cocktail, Donovan pulled me into my home library, closing the door behind us and dragging me to the far corner, whispering as if afraid the walls had ears. “Lily, there’s something very important that I need to tell you before dinner.”

“Is this going to be some kind of ridiculous joke about suddenly developing an allergy to tarragon and not being able to breathe around it? If it is, I’m going to let you pretend to be on the verge of death all night.”

“No, Lily, I am
very
serious,” he said, taking my hands in his and swallowing back emotions. “Something will be announced at dinner, and I want to warn you about it first.” His eyes then diverted to my hands as he toyed with my engagement ring. “I, ugh… I asked… Anna and I are getting married.”

My whole body hitched forward, feeling as if suddenly plagued by a feverish stomach virus. He had every right to get married and deserved my blessing, just as he had given me when I married Christopher. However, what I knew should be said went against all that my being screamed.

“Lily, I… I’m sorry. Please understand that—”

“Why are you apologizing?” I tried to be noble, but I couldn’t ditch the bitter taste of jealousy in my mouth. “I want you to be happy like I am, but—Donovan, tell me the truth. Don’t throw up any walls because I’ll assume you are lying.” My eyes shut, fearing the answer, because no matter what he said, the pain would squash my heart. “Yes or no, do you love Anna?”

“Of course I love her.” He was so persuasive that my gut also crumbled. “I wouldn’t marry her if I didn’t.”

“Are you
in love
with her?”

Placing my hands together, he cupped them in his enlaced fingers while pressing his palms into each other, as if trying to divert the pain blanketing his face. “You mean like I am with you? No, I’ll never be in love with anyone the way I am with you, but she does make me happy. When I’m with her, I feel like I have purpose.” He drew his gaze into mine, as if begging for understanding. “She gets me, Lily. She understands that I have a history I don’t want to share and that I’ve learned from it. She respects what I am trying to do for myself by helping others, and she points out the validity of my past suffering. Lily, if I can’t have you I at least want to be happy and feel like a person of value. Anna helps me see my self worth.”

Pain radiated through me, and I did a horrible job of disguising it with teasing. “So it’s not that she’s some hot chick that’s good in bed?”

Donovan cocked an eyebrow. “Is she hot? I hadn’t noticed.” He smiled, and I lightly kicked him, unwilling to remove my hands from his to smack his arm. “Seriously, Lily, when it comes to my list of beautiful women there is only one entry.” With seductive eyes he kissed my hand. I swooned and considered dragging him through the window to escape the world with me. Fortunately his words killed my temptation. “However, when I look at myself and what I hope to accomplish in life, and then look at Anna, I see the same desires. I can make something of myself, Lily, just like she’s doing. Everyday we both have challenges to overcome, and together those mountains of immovable stone look like mustard seeds. You know what they say: Faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. That is what I plan to do with her. Please, Lily. Please support this.”

Engulfed in his arms, I snuggled my head into his chest. Defeat swept over me, and I choked on the last bit of acceptance I didn’t realize I hadn’t swallowed. “Of course, Donovan. Anything to make you happy.”