The Betrothed
Part 32
There was no sign of Darrick at or around the Star Bar, so the group split into pairs, agreeing to meet back again at 6 AM to discuss a change of plan if Darrick had not yet been found. Cynthia and Jessica headed north on Moreland Drive, Anthony and Patrick south, while Richard and John veered off down Euclid Avenue back into Inman Park.
The night was quiet, eerily so; Cynthia wondered if everyone were indoors, eyes glued to their television sets, wondering if the world were going to end in the next few hours. Cynthia wondered how she would feel if she were in their place, watching worldwide tensions rise seemingly without reason or cause, with nothing to do but sit and worry. If Darrick were still missing, I don’t think I would care. He’s all I have left. Without him, my world has already ended. She looked over at Jessica, her former friend. Another lost relationship, even with her walking nearby. Once, she had thought that their friendship could never be broken, when they were children and the outside world seemed far, far away, nothing that could ever hurt them. But Jessica had barely spoken to her since Darrick and Abby’s elopement, severing their tie only a bare couple of weeks after it had been renewed. Now the woman kept her eyes on the road before them or the shadows to either side, avoiding her gaze; the few times Jessica looked her way, her expression was colder than the wind which occasionally stole the breath from their mouths. Eventually, Cynthia could take the tension no more.
“This isn’t just Darrick’s fault, you know,” she said. “Abby wanted to leave as well.” I can’t let her put all the blame on me. We both screwed up. If she would just admit it, maybe she’ll talk to me again. But Jessica’s reply was not exactly what Cynthia wanted.
“Your son hit my daughter,” she hissed through gritted teeth, not even bothering to turn in Cynthia’s direction, still devoting her attention to the search, not even lessening her stride. “Do you think she agreed to that?”
“You heard Richard,” Cynthia protested, her own guilty feelings stinging her. “That’s not Darrick’s fault. His mind is being distorted, just like Abby’s. He wasn’t in control of his actions.” That managed to pull Jessica’s attentions.
“I don’t think this is the time to talk about it,” Jessica said stiffly, still avoiding Cynthia’s eyes. “Let’s find Darrick so Richard can heal them both. Then we can sort out the blame.” She didn’t look at Cynthia as she spoke, but Cynthia still felt her accusing glare.
She thinks this is my fault. She’s blaming me for what Darrick did. Again. “I have done nothing to Darrick, nothing that would ever cause him to hit another person.” A tiny doubt inside her stole some of the force from her words. What if she’s right? What if this is my fault? A competing impulse cried No! I did everything I could! “You have no idea of how hard it was, raising him alone, with an outsider husband. You were the lucky one, the firstborn daughter. You had the bond, the proper marriage, the whole of Atlantean society to help bring your children up right.” Cynthia snorted. “I was exiled, sent away into the outside world to make my own way, with no one to help me. I had to live with a man who cared nothing for proper Atlantean ways, who was so afraid that our son would leave him behind that he forbade me to tell him the truth for twenty years. Considering all that I had to endure, I think I did a damn good job raising my son. In his right mind, he’s never done anything but made me proud.” Jessica just rolled her eyes.
“By the gods, we are all sick and tired of your self-pity!” she exclaimed, finally stopping and turning to face her. “Other exiles have married outsiders and lived happy lives. Most of the ones who marry do as well as any other outsider couple. All they have to do is accept their place in life.” She poked a finger into Cynthia’s chest. “But you never could do that, not even when we were children. Now you’ve wasted your whole life wishing for something you can’t have, making both you and your husband miserable.”
“That’s so easy for you to say,” Cynthia cut in. “You have the bond. You’re connected with your husband in a way I can never be. You have no idea how hard it is to live with someone without it.”
“Outsider couples do it every day!”
“Outsider couples?! The divorce rate for outsiders is fifty percent! And how many of the other fifty percent are miserable?” Cynthia thought of the married couples she knew, how many were staying together for the kids, or out of religious conviction, or for some other superfluous reason. “You have no idea how good you have it. Your marriage will never be in danger, you will never be out of love. Outsiders would kill for what you have.” Cynthia felt her throat close up as her chest constricted. The weight of all she never could have, the unity with her partner she could never experience, felt as though it were pressing on her heart. “I would kill for it.”
“Oh, what utter rubbish,” Jessica snapped, but she visibly forced herself to continue in a softer tone. “Cynthia, it’s you who doesn’t know what she’s saying. You’ve never experienced the bond, but you could have at least listened to what you were taught about it, instead of constructing your own fantasy.” She shook her head sadly. “The bond doesn’t force a good marriage. Yes, it gives you that first rush, that infatuation, and it molds your personalities to make things easier, but that’s not everything. Marriage takes work no matter how well you’re matched. Did you ever try to work on your relationship with John, or did you spend your time wishing for something better every time you had a difficulty?”
Cynthia almost protested instinctively, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Jessica’s words struck too close to home. I wanted to make it work. I’m not sure it was even my choice to get married; Richard said it was that geas that made me do it, to preserve the royal line. But I never wanted it to fail. It just seemed to happen that way.
“I know I screwed up with John, but I did the best I could with Darrick, I promise.” Cynthia didn’t know if that was enough, but it was the best she could do. For her part, Jessica looked a bit sheepish herself.
“I know that,” she said. “I’ve never doubted your devotion to your son.”
“Then why have you shut me out these past six months?” Cynthia remembered the hurt of her newly-rediscovered people casting her out a second time, snatching from her the best source of support she had after her son had disappeared. “If you know I did the best I could, why did all of you blame me?”
“I didn’t shut you out. You shut yourself out!” Jessica threw up her hands in disbelief. “Yes, I said a few things in the heat of the moment, things I’m not proud of. So did you! But you should have realized that I, of all people, understood what you were going through. I understand what it is like to have a rebellious, headstrong child. I didn’t blame you or Darrick for making her run away, not once I cooled down and was able to think straight. I knew she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own! But you wouldn’t even let me tell you that. Every time I tried, you assumed I was just being polite, pretending that everything was alright. Well, everything was alright, with us anyway, until you assumed otherwise. Just like now. I don’t blame you for what Darrick did. I’m not even sure I blame him. That doesn’t make me any less angry that my daughter was hurt, but I was doing my best not to direct that anger at you until you pushed it. But you couldn’t see past your own self-pity long enough to realize that.” Jessica crossed her arms and regarded Cynthia with an exhausted frustration. “You make your own problems, Cynthia. You always have. The world, even the outside world, isn’t nearly as harsh of a place as you make it to be.”
Jessica turned sharply and walked back down the road, continuing the search. After a moment, Cynthia did the same, staying just a step or two behind her former friend.
Part 32
There was no sign of Darrick at or around the Star Bar, so the group split into pairs, agreeing to meet back again at 6 AM to discuss a change of plan if Darrick had not yet been found. Cynthia and Jessica headed north on Moreland Drive, Anthony and Patrick south, while Richard and John veered off down Euclid Avenue back into Inman Park.
The night was quiet, eerily so; Cynthia wondered if everyone were indoors, eyes glued to their television sets, wondering if the world were going to end in the next few hours. Cynthia wondered how she would feel if she were in their place, watching worldwide tensions rise seemingly without reason or cause, with nothing to do but sit and worry. If Darrick were still missing, I don’t think I would care. He’s all I have left. Without him, my world has already ended. She looked over at Jessica, her former friend. Another lost relationship, even with her walking nearby. Once, she had thought that their friendship could never be broken, when they were children and the outside world seemed far, far away, nothing that could ever hurt them. But Jessica had barely spoken to her since Darrick and Abby’s elopement, severing their tie only a bare couple of weeks after it had been renewed. Now the woman kept her eyes on the road before them or the shadows to either side, avoiding her gaze; the few times Jessica looked her way, her expression was colder than the wind which occasionally stole the breath from their mouths. Eventually, Cynthia could take the tension no more.
“This isn’t just Darrick’s fault, you know,” she said. “Abby wanted to leave as well.” I can’t let her put all the blame on me. We both screwed up. If she would just admit it, maybe she’ll talk to me again. But Jessica’s reply was not exactly what Cynthia wanted.
“Your son hit my daughter,” she hissed through gritted teeth, not even bothering to turn in Cynthia’s direction, still devoting her attention to the search, not even lessening her stride. “Do you think she agreed to that?”
“You heard Richard,” Cynthia protested, her own guilty feelings stinging her. “That’s not Darrick’s fault. His mind is being distorted, just like Abby’s. He wasn’t in control of his actions.” That managed to pull Jessica’s attentions.
“I don’t think this is the time to talk about it,” Jessica said stiffly, still avoiding Cynthia’s eyes. “Let’s find Darrick so Richard can heal them both. Then we can sort out the blame.” She didn’t look at Cynthia as she spoke, but Cynthia still felt her accusing glare.
She thinks this is my fault. She’s blaming me for what Darrick did. Again. “I have done nothing to Darrick, nothing that would ever cause him to hit another person.” A tiny doubt inside her stole some of the force from her words. What if she’s right? What if this is my fault? A competing impulse cried No! I did everything I could! “You have no idea of how hard it was, raising him alone, with an outsider husband. You were the lucky one, the firstborn daughter. You had the bond, the proper marriage, the whole of Atlantean society to help bring your children up right.” Cynthia snorted. “I was exiled, sent away into the outside world to make my own way, with no one to help me. I had to live with a man who cared nothing for proper Atlantean ways, who was so afraid that our son would leave him behind that he forbade me to tell him the truth for twenty years. Considering all that I had to endure, I think I did a damn good job raising my son. In his right mind, he’s never done anything but made me proud.” Jessica just rolled her eyes.
“By the gods, we are all sick and tired of your self-pity!” she exclaimed, finally stopping and turning to face her. “Other exiles have married outsiders and lived happy lives. Most of the ones who marry do as well as any other outsider couple. All they have to do is accept their place in life.” She poked a finger into Cynthia’s chest. “But you never could do that, not even when we were children. Now you’ve wasted your whole life wishing for something you can’t have, making both you and your husband miserable.”
“That’s so easy for you to say,” Cynthia cut in. “You have the bond. You’re connected with your husband in a way I can never be. You have no idea how hard it is to live with someone without it.”
“Outsider couples do it every day!”
“Outsider couples?! The divorce rate for outsiders is fifty percent! And how many of the other fifty percent are miserable?” Cynthia thought of the married couples she knew, how many were staying together for the kids, or out of religious conviction, or for some other superfluous reason. “You have no idea how good you have it. Your marriage will never be in danger, you will never be out of love. Outsiders would kill for what you have.” Cynthia felt her throat close up as her chest constricted. The weight of all she never could have, the unity with her partner she could never experience, felt as though it were pressing on her heart. “I would kill for it.”
“Oh, what utter rubbish,” Jessica snapped, but she visibly forced herself to continue in a softer tone. “Cynthia, it’s you who doesn’t know what she’s saying. You’ve never experienced the bond, but you could have at least listened to what you were taught about it, instead of constructing your own fantasy.” She shook her head sadly. “The bond doesn’t force a good marriage. Yes, it gives you that first rush, that infatuation, and it molds your personalities to make things easier, but that’s not everything. Marriage takes work no matter how well you’re matched. Did you ever try to work on your relationship with John, or did you spend your time wishing for something better every time you had a difficulty?”
Cynthia almost protested instinctively, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Jessica’s words struck too close to home. I wanted to make it work. I’m not sure it was even my choice to get married; Richard said it was that geas that made me do it, to preserve the royal line. But I never wanted it to fail. It just seemed to happen that way.
“I know I screwed up with John, but I did the best I could with Darrick, I promise.” Cynthia didn’t know if that was enough, but it was the best she could do. For her part, Jessica looked a bit sheepish herself.
“I know that,” she said. “I’ve never doubted your devotion to your son.”
“Then why have you shut me out these past six months?” Cynthia remembered the hurt of her newly-rediscovered people casting her out a second time, snatching from her the best source of support she had after her son had disappeared. “If you know I did the best I could, why did all of you blame me?”
“I didn’t shut you out. You shut yourself out!” Jessica threw up her hands in disbelief. “Yes, I said a few things in the heat of the moment, things I’m not proud of. So did you! But you should have realized that I, of all people, understood what you were going through. I understand what it is like to have a rebellious, headstrong child. I didn’t blame you or Darrick for making her run away, not once I cooled down and was able to think straight. I knew she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own! But you wouldn’t even let me tell you that. Every time I tried, you assumed I was just being polite, pretending that everything was alright. Well, everything was alright, with us anyway, until you assumed otherwise. Just like now. I don’t blame you for what Darrick did. I’m not even sure I blame him. That doesn’t make me any less angry that my daughter was hurt, but I was doing my best not to direct that anger at you until you pushed it. But you couldn’t see past your own self-pity long enough to realize that.” Jessica crossed her arms and regarded Cynthia with an exhausted frustration. “You make your own problems, Cynthia. You always have. The world, even the outside world, isn’t nearly as harsh of a place as you make it to be.”
Jessica turned sharply and walked back down the road, continuing the search. After a moment, Cynthia did the same, staying just a step or two behind her former friend.
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