The Angel's Fate

Chapter 12

My head is spinning when my feet hit solid ground again. I can't keep myself upright anymore, so I just collapse in a sobbing heap onto the grass. I can't tell if the nausea is from transporting or heartbreak. Either way, I can barely keep from throwing up.

I feel like my chest is being crushed beneath an enormous weight and I can't get any air in my lungs. I clutch my hair angrily in my fingers and grip with all of my might. I scream into the ground.

What have I done? I've hurt the person I care about most in the world, and I don't know if he will ever forgive me.

My eyes are swelling from the tears, and my cheeks are starting to burn. But I can’t stop crying. 

What if he never wants to speak to me again? But I had to do this. I had to give him the freedom to have the future he deserves. I only bring death and destruction.

A new wave of sobs crashes over me, and I wail loudly into the damp ground. I wish I could just melt into it, disappear so I never hurt anyone again.

At that moment I hear the soft pad of footsteps in the grass, so I hold my breath, trying to hold back the tears. I don't want anyone seeing me like this.

A body plops down beside me, but I don’t look up. I keep my face hidden in the dirt.

“Are you okay, baby girl?” My dad’s deep voice whispers. I let out a sigh of relief. A girl really does need her dad in times like this.

“Mariel, are you okay?” He asks again. I can’t get any words out between the sobs, so I just shake my head. 

“Things didn’t go well with Robin then?” He asks.

I shake my head again.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” he sighs. I feel him drape an arm over my back and rest his head next to mine. I still can’t bear to look at him though.

“Mariel, listen,” he says, “I know it hurts like hell right now, but I want you to try to remember one thing.”

I lift my head up slightly so I can look at him out of the side of one eye.

“You are not incomplete,” he says firmly.

“What?” I ask between cries.

“You are not incomplete,” he repeats. “You don’t need anyone else to make you happy, to give you purpose.”

I frown at him then plop my face back down into the ground. 

“I mean it,” he says as he rubs my back. “Sweetheart, you were dealt an awful hand. But you have been so strong through it all. You’re an incredible person all on your own. If you want love, you’ll find it one day. But just don’t depend on it to make you happy.”

“I just want to find something like you and mom have,” I mutter through the tears.

He chuckles a little. “We went through hell… literally… to get where we are now. I’m sure you’re going to experience more pain too. But you’ll always have your mom and I to pull you through it.”

I bury my face into his chest and sniffle into his shirt ungracefully. He rubs the top of my head, tousling my hair like he used to do when I was a little girl. 

I can’t help but smirk a little. There’s something so comforting about being in my dad’s arms. 

“Let’s go inside,” He says, “I just made a fresh pot of Seamus’ stew. Nothing like comfort food when you’re feeling down.”

I slowly sit up and force a smile. “Okay,” I sniffle as I wipe my face off with my sleeve.

He helps me to my feet, and rests an arm across my shoulders as we walk to the tavern.

Thankfully it’s empty inside, except for my mom behind the bar. I don’t really feel like explaining my puffy eyes to anyone else right now.

I pull out a stool at the bar and have a seat next to her while dad goes into the kitchen to get the food ready. It smells heavenly.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says with a sad smile as she examines my tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry things didn’t go the way you had hoped.”

“It’s fine,” I sigh. “We’re better off as friends. I’ve always known that.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t say anything. 

Dad comes out of the kitchen with three steaming bowls  of stew and places them down in front of us. We all inhale, breathing in the familiar scent and enjoying the memories of the dear friend who taught us the recipe. We eat in silence, allowing the food to warm us from the inside out. 

This is exactly what I needed. 

Then I hear the twinkle of the bell coming from the front door. Great. I don’t want to deal with customers right now.

“Sorry, we are closed right now,” my mom says over my head. 

“I’m not here for food,” a familiar voice says. I turn around, and Eric is standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a mischievous smile and a t-shirt with a deep v-neck that exposes just a little of his heavily muscled chest. “I’m here to see Mariel.”