What family does

Road to Millhaven

I push the door open, hurrying inside. Vivienne and Celeste are in the living room looking grim, a letter open before them.

They look up at my entrance.

“Calla—”

“What happened to Aunt Rosie?!”

I feel Dorian's hand on my shoulder, but it does nothing to the knots in my stomach. I’d forgotten he was here.

Vivienne notices him. “Dorian… This is a family matter—”

“And I'll be marrying Calla.”

“You're not one of us yet!” She snaps. “So please wait outside.”

His hand tightens on my shoulder, but I shake my head. He releases me and steps outside.

I draw closer to them. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s alive… for now. The doctor said she's terribly ill and needs constant care if she's to get better, but as you know she lives alone.”

“What of the young lass who used to tend to her?”

“She got married in the summer.”

“She did?”

“Yes Calla. Keep up.” Celeste interjects.

“Okay, so what do we do?”

They glance at each other.

“We were hoping you could go stay with her. Just for a month so she can get better.”

“A month? But Dorian and I—according to tradition, as the firstborn, I have to marry as soon as possible, so Celeste can get married.”

“Yes, I spoke to the councilman and explained the situation. It can wait a month. We can all wait a month.”

Part of me wants to say no. For some reason, the thought of being away from Dorian for a month fills me with dread, but Aunt Rosie is the only one whose kindness towards me never changed. The only one who still tells me stories about my mother.

“Fine. I'll go. When do I leave—”

“By daylight. We already packed a bag for you. You'll be on the first train out. Hurry upstairs now and make sure you have everything.”

“Of course.” I trudge slowly up the stairs.

They'd packed everything. Almost like they knew this would happen. I shake the thought out of my head and shove my journal into the bag.

A light knock sounds at my door.

“Come in,” I say, zipping the bag up.

Dorian walks in.

“Oh,” I smile sheepishly. “I thought you'd left.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily.”

“Luckily I don't want to.”

He comes to sit beside me, drawing me into his arms.

“So what happened?” he asks, stroking my hair.

I feel myself relax against him. “I'm to go to Millhaven. To a village where my aged aunt lives. She's quite ill and I must tend to her as she has no one else.”

“Why can't—”

“She never really got along with Celeste and Vivienne can't go, she'd sooner kill her than help her. She's the only link I have left between my mom and Dad. I can't lose her.”

He nods, understanding. “How long will you be gone?”

“A month.”

“A month!” he says, standing abruptly.

I reach for his hands. “It's just a month. We kept our relationship hidden for three years, nothing's going to fall apart now that we're free to love in the open.”

He remains silent.

“It's just a month, D. Then we can get married. I can't wait to be Calla Lily Crestwood. Dorian Crestwood’s wife.”

He smiles slightly, leans over and pecks me on the lips.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Of what? Calla Lily Crestwood?” I tease.

He grins. “No. Dorian Crestwood’s wife.”

I roll my eyes. “I'll be back before you miss me.”

“I already miss you.”

I laugh, and he closes the distance between us and kisses me. He deepens the kiss and my hands find his collar, his finds my waist.

My back meets the wall.

His hands move—one tracing up slowly, deliberately, like he has all the time in the world.

I exhale against his mouth, and he catches the sound like he's been waiting for it, pulling me closer, softly biting my lower lip.

"Dorian—" I gasp.

"Mm."

His lips move to my jaw, my neck, slow, purposeful. I tip my head back and forget my own name for a moment.

My fingers curl into his shirt.

He pulls back just enough to look at me—both of us breathing harder than we should be, his hair slightly undone, his eyes dark and certain.

"When you get back," he says quietly, his thumb tracing my collarbone slowly. "We won't stop."

My heart’s suddenly very loud.

"When I get back," I agree.

He kisses me again and this time it's more urgent; his hands pull me flush against him, mine slide up around his neck and then—

Three knocks on the door.

"Calla. Lights out in ten minutes," Vivienne calls out.

We break apart. I press both hands over my mouth. Dorian's chest is rising and falling.

He stares at me for one second, then the laugh breaks out of him—silent, shoulders shaking. I bury my face in his chest to muffle mine.

He presses his lips to my hair.

"Soon," he breathes.

I pull back and look at him. Flushed, undone, absolutely certain about this man.

"Soon," I whisper back.

~

It's barely daylight when I slip through the main doors. I find Dorian waiting to take me to the station. The sight of him spreads warmth through my chest.

We drive in silence. I stare out the window, taking in the passing scenery.

The leaves are yellowing slightly at the tips, a cold wind has started creeping in.

Seasons can be confusing if you're new to Velmoor. We hardly ever get snow; after rainy season the weather is predominantly autumn.

It's a heavy contrast to Millhaven, which is predominantly cold. I wonder how Aunt Rosie has managed to survive there at her age.

With a sigh, I nestle further into my seat, grateful for the warmth of the car.

We arrive at the train station and board the 7:11 train. Dorian helps me settle in, leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead before stepping off the train to wait on the platform. I stare at him through the glass. I wonder what good I did in a past life to deserve him.

“My, what a lovely young man you've got there. You must feel quite lucky.” A voice sounds to my right.

I turn to find an elderly couple gazing warmly at me. I smile back before turning again to Dorian.

“I do. I'm going to marry that man.”

They chuckle. “Well then, congratulations in advance.”

“Thank you.”

The whistle blows as the train starts forward. Dorian smiles at me and sends a small wave. I wave back till I can no longer see him.

I settle back into my seat, pulling my jacket tight around me.

I switch trains at Etherdam for the last leg of the journey. By the time I reach Millhaven, the sun has begun to fade from the sky, leaving behind tinges of its golden hue. I wrap a shawl around my neck, donning my gloves before exiting the station.

My breath comes in short bursts of cold air as I trudge up the hill leading to Manor 5. The old Manor where Aunt Rosie lives.

I take in the scenery, the warmly lit cafés that line the streets, even in hill areas such as this.

The Miller bakery where I had my first banana bread. A faint smile tugs on my lips, memories of the holidays I spent here wash over me.

Those were good times.

Better times.

Dust rests thickly on the front porch, evidence that she hadn't been about in weeks, a single pair of footsteps being the only exception. Probably the doctor who'd found her.

I crouch down, retrieving the spare key from behind the gnome by the door. My fingers are stiff with cold, and it takes two tries to get it into the lock. I hear the familiar click and the cry of old hinges as I push the door open.

“Aunt Rosie?” I call out as I step inside.

Nothing.

The silence is heavy and sends a deeper chill through me than the cold. It's unusual and unsettling.

Panic rises to my throat as I bound up the stairs.

“Aunt Rosie, it's Calla.”

My voice cracks on the second syllable.

I don't let myself finish the thought that's trying to form.

I check the tearoom first, hoping to see her dozed off. I find her tea cup, the contents gone cold. I try to steady my breathing as I work through the rooms on the first floor.

Bedroom, mini pantry, guest room.

No. No. No.

I practically run into her study next and stop cold, my skin paling.

“A-Aunt Rosie?”

She's slumped forward over her desk, one arm hanging off the side of the chair at an angle no living person rests in.

Her hair has come loose from its pin and lies matted against her cheek. Her lips have gone the faintest shade of blue at the edges.

“Oh my God!” I rush over, dropping to my knees beside her. My hands find her shoulders, shaking her gently.

"Aunt Rosie. Aunt Rosie, wake up."

I press two fingers to the side of her neck the way I've seen in films, not entirely sure I'm doing it right, terrified I won't find anything at all.

Please. Please. Please.

There.

Faint and unsteady, but there.