Merciless Vows by Faith Summers

19

Aria

“Did holding it again conjure any memories?” Sienna asks, looking at my beautiful violin in its case.

I shake my head with dismay and gaze out to the pond, watching the swans swim by.

We chose to meet in the courtyard again, but near the pond, this time, for the tranquil atmosphere. We’ve been looking through some old photo albums, and I’ve been holding my violin. Dr. Pelchant said sometimes holding things could help stir memories.

So far, that hasn’t happened yet. The only thing stirring anything inside me is the seriously erotic sessions I’ve been having with Lucca.

Each one leaves me more confused than its predecessor.

Sienna and I have been out here for a few hours, and the seamstress will be here soon.

Sienna came here to help with the wedding dress selection. She got here early so we could hang out for a little while and talk.

I’m not looking forward to the session today.

I’m in the worst mood ever, and it’s stemming from the confliction of this volatile man who confuses me. And that nightmare I had.

I had weird dreams again with the same things happening except for that man in the end. This time the sequence with him was different. More violent, and I’m sure I was a child.

Sienna covers my hand with hers, and I look back at her.

“Hey there, don’t go daydreaming on me,” she chuckles.

“I won’t. I’m just thinking.”

I pick up my violin again and run my fingers over the sleek wood.

It’s beautiful, but that’s all it is to me. I glanced at the opened album with four pictures of me when I was twelve playing it on stage. I’m wearing a gorgeous dress, and the smile on my face is that of the doting achiever.

To look so confident at that age must have been remarkable.

But there’s a sadness in my eyes, too, that makes me think of the dream. Was that something that really happened to me? It felt so real.

There was a man on top of me hurting me. He ripped my clothes off.

Why would I have that kind of dream if it wasn’t based on some kind of bad memory?

And because I can’t remember anything besides Lucca, I have no points of reference.

“Sienna, I don’t think I’m going to get my memories back,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“Don’t say that. You mustn’t give up. These things take time, and it’s hard. We knew it was always going to be hard.”

“I know, but I don’t know if I can go back to being that person.” I point to the pictures. “Look at me. I look so in love with the music. Like it was my everything.”

“Because it was. I always used to tease you that you must have been some kind of child prodigy.” She laughs, and I do too.

Hearing myself laugh sounds weird. This is the first I’ve laughed since being here.

“I’m sure I wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure you were. So that means the talents you always had are all still there.”

That gives me some hope. “You think so?”

“Of course. You just have to learn them again, but it will all come back to you the same way it did before when you didn’t know.”

She’s been encouraging me to have violin lessons since I got out of the hospital.

It’s not that I didn’t want to have them. I just couldn’t stand another reminder that I’m damaged and could no longer do something so integral to me.

“I hear you,” I mutter.

“Good, now we’ve been here for a while looking at these things, but I can tell something more is on your mind. What’s going on, Aria? Has Lucca done something else to you?”

I sigh and try to think of what Lucca hasn’t done.

Okay, he hasn’t made good on his promise to fuck me yet, so that’s something. Other than that, the man has screwed with my mind and my nerves. I’m a mess when I’m around him, and that’s not entirely his fault.

It’s mine too.

Sienna and I talk about everything, and she’s always telling me about her boyfriends. I’m sure she’s had at least six that I’ve known of in the last eighteen months. This week though, she’s single.

If I start talking about what she would class as barely sexual encounters, she’s going to think I’m crazy.

That doesn’t, however, stop me from asking her a few questions about my dream.

“What?” she prods.

I think of how to pose the question. “Was I ever attacked when I was little?”

She shakes her head and narrows her eyes. “No. Not that I know of. Attacked like how?”

“Like maybe someone came into the house, my room, and attacked me.”

“No, Aria. Why are you asking me that? Your parents were like mine, very careful with us. Everyone was careful with us. If something like that had happened, we would have known. Did you remember something?”

I shake my head and dismiss the nightmare. I know how I feel, but since I don’t have much to go on, it’s best to stop talking about it.

“I think it was a nightmare. That’s what it must have been.”

“Okay. But maybe talk to the doctor about it. Maybe it’s one of those things where you dream about something awful, but it means something else. Or… maybe it’s a memory resurfacing. Which I pray it isn’t.”

At that, I just look at her because I definitely don’t want it to be real. Only, the other day, I was thinking about how I lost my virginity. I don’t want that memory to be the answer.

“I’ll talk to the doctor,” I promise.

“Good. Let me know what he says.”

“Of course.”

“Girls,” Marylin calls to us, and we both turn to see her waving us over with a smile. “It’s time.”

Great.The seamstress is here. Now I have to put on a show.

We both get up and join Marylin, then make our way back inside the house to the grand hall we’ve been using for the last few days.

The seamstress is there, and so are the dresses.

She’s brought ten with her this time, and each one is on a mannequin like in a bridal showroom.

They all look beautiful.

The seamstress is a talkative lady who reminds me of the fairy godmother from Shrek. She even has her hair in a similar style.

When she sees me, she smiles wide and claps her hands together with delight.

“I have brought you the ten most beautiful dresses from Vera Wang’s new collection. There’s definitely a dress in here for you,” she bubbles.

“Thank you. They are all gorgeous.”

Even though Lucca’s warned me not to give any trouble, I already decided I was going to pick a dress today whether I liked it or not. The wedding isn’t real, so I don’t have to be the real me as if I were truly in love and picking out the one gown that was the fairest of them all.

“Fantastic. Have a look at each one. I suggest you try on all of them because sometimes it’s the fit you fall in love with.”

“Okay.” I glance at Sienna, and she smiles.

I start walking down the row of dresses and stop at the third one. It looks like it was handpicked from a fairytale.

It has a slim cut with a sleeveless bodice and a billowing organza overskirt.

Flat 3D flowers have been applied over the material. Denser on the bodice, so it looks like a cluster, then sparse towards the bottom, so it appears to be tumbling down the body of the dress.

It’s stunning. The type you can tell a lot of love went into.

The seamstress comes up to me when she sees me looking at it.

“I knew you’d like this,” she bubbles. “This one has my bet on it but do try on the others.”

“Sure.”

When I look back at the dress, I can imagine myself wearing it on the day.

My wedding day. It’s hard to believe it’s less than three weeks away.

How could it be so soon?

What am I even saying? It’s not the wedding I should be worried about; it’s my birthday.

The wedding is just the real beginning of the countdown of my fate.

This is only the prelude.

I already feel like I’m losing my mind, and from one day to the next, I don’t know what I’m about or what I’m doing.

The constant back and forth with Lucca is jarring me, and I have to be careful I don’t slip away and lose sight of what I want.

Freedom.

Freedom from this mess and from the prison of my mind.