By the Grace of Sim Gods

Charlotte: Unanswered Loneliness

The frustration built; Caleb had been busy leaving Charlotte going crazy talking to Sparky. He tilted his head, the tongue peaked, and the doe eyes were of no comfort as she believed Caleb was avoiding her questions. Caleb possessed the life she craved, love and passion with eternal youth and beauty; a thirst for blood was a small price to pay for a being with him. Pacing, Charlotte needed to know what their relationship meant to him. Her heart knew she was in love, and the way he touched her, the depth and warmth of his kiss, he felt the same. Feeling and saying were different; Rylan spoke words accompanied by cold actions; Caleb, his heart stopped, ignited a fire within Charlotte. Patrick was too busy finding himself to worry about how she felt, and without Caleb, his verbal confession of attraction, Charlotte wallowed in her loneliness.

The night brought discomfort, sheets twisted, binding her body, echoing her restless mind. The house, its empty walls and collection of urns, resembled the church of its former life; Charlotte could hear herself breathing, every creek, crack as the wind rushed through. She clutched the sheets tighter, wishing her mother was alive, squeezing her eyes, forcing the memories to the surface. Charlotte could smell Emilie’s perfume, her voice clear and filled with emotion, white locks and crystal blue eyes. If this were her imagination, no detail missed; except the comfort her mother’s presence brought.

Charlotte gritted her teeth; she resented Patrick’s arrival; he looked refreshed from his week in the wild and had collected Milly at Evergreen Harbour. The two cousins talked trees, plants and furious bears; Milly giggled as Patrick growled, his arms in the air, hands clawed, they descended on her in a tickle attack. The squeals tensed Charlotte, her neck sore from sleepless nights grew tighter, and her tone gave a jealous response. Patrick approached, his bear posture; Charlotte snapped, uninterested in his childish games; a swift punch landed softly against his torso as he dodged. Smirking, he returned to Milly; he had an idea for a mediative garden, a place their parents and ancestor would appreciate; despite inviting Charlotte, she folded her arms sulking.

The time was now, Charlotte demanded an answer, being his girlfriend was no longer enough; she would be eighteen in ten months. If Caleb refused to turn her, another vampire would be sort. Caleb muted her, a kiss to distract as the bar he chose for their quiet drink had grown in popularity. The new management believed in loud music; cheap drinks, which Charlotte guessed was watered-down. They introduced the growing trend of dedicated nights for singles, those playing dress up or aliens trying to integrate into human society in their colourful forms. Charlotte sunk back, the chair comfy; mood radiated her frustration, glaring at the happy party-goers. Her bottom lip jutted, Caleb tugged it, his lips trailed kisses across her jaw, the corners of her mouth twitched, teeth nipped her ear, a promise he would answer everything soon.

Patrick: Granite Falls

If staying home would solve this rift with Charlotte, he might have considered it. As he packed, she watched, scribbling her deepest thoughts, like how she would kill him the moment she became a vampire. They argued; Patrick called selfish for abandoning her in favour of open spaces where bears will eat him; Patrick teased her concerns, offering assurances he would be safe. It riled her further; she hoped the bears shredded and devoured him, leaving no trace or whatever remained was unidentifiable as proof he existed. Her drama continued as Caleb arrived; upon seeing Charlotte, he embraced her, eyes chilled Patrick, the brother felt unnerved by the overzealous nature of Charlotte’s boyfriend. He tried to shake free of the sensation; Caleb had been polite, respectful; Charlotte had spun Patrick’s desire to leave as a slight against her, giving way to a hostile conversation. Physically she looked similar to Emilie; while he and Eliza took a likeness to their father, personality-wise he saw his siblings as unique selves. His sister, convinced of her existence as Emilie’s double, had decided this was Patrick’s reasoning.

The journey took him through Evergreen Harbour; Patrick cringed at the smoggy town; the people were suffering, coughing. He lifted his bag deterring those inclined to sit next to him and gazed at the busy shipping port, hoping with was the correct train. Glimmerbrook, the last station, this sleepy hamlet, host to a few homes and an unappealing bar, where his ride to Granite Falls awaited. Uncomfortable, Patrick sat with his root beer, questioning his decision to use local transportation. A guff looking man, his patched clothes, long unbrushed hair, and a beard birds could nest grunted, nodding his head toward the rusted blue truck. Patrick attempted futile conversation; the man answered with one word, or where the question was open, he let it remain that way.

Breathe; lungs expanded; Patrick thought he grew several inches as his eyes tried to take in the new surroundings; if the stranger failed to collect him in a few days, he would be happy to accept an indefinite offer to stay. The definition of serenity was Granite Falls; he could hear the breeze rustling the leaves and bird song; it made him realise how loud everything was back home. Streets maintained a steady flow of cars, his sister, the dog, phones ringing; none of that bothered him. Granite Falls; managed by rangers, Mandy was on duty and happy to assist him with the tent. Bathroom, a small wooden and stone shack, a composting toilet and cold water shower; his skin crawled at the sight of flies buzzing close to the entrance, but it was another outdoor adventure he would learn to endure.

Patrick settled, skewering his sausages above an open fire; he glanced at his phone, the signal had been intermittent but relieved Charlotte got his message. Despite her panic for the mock exams; their argument that morning, the teacher had contacted her, commending her essay and how she could look to complete her senior year with the top grade. He felt jealous; both his sisters had superior minds, his final grade was a B, a disappointing end to the year. Charlotte had tapped numerous messages eager to know how he was; Patrick sighed his achievement that day amounted to a tent and half-cooked sausages, he hoped the weekend would bring success as he tried fishing.

Patrick: A New Low

His head whirled with the responsibility for his sister, she wanted to stay in Newcrest to finish school, and despite Eliza’s offer of assistance, he was Charlotte’s guardian. An undecided future, Patrick looked to girlfriend Gemma, for comfort, unconvinced of anything beyond the physical attraction. Straddling him, Gemma massaged his templed, moving her hand to cup his face added soft kisses; despite the distracted thought process, he squeezed her thighs in appreciation. Gemma squealed and grabbed hold of him as he thrust upwards, throwing her back into the water.

Gemma fished her bikini, a towel covering her nudity; it seemed Patrick had lost himself in her embrace, she had giggled at the sensations added by the water, but post fun, Patrick seemed distant. She cleared her throat, wondering if she could stay over; he shrugged, knowing Gemma wanted an answer were they together, a couple. He enjoyed the intimacy; it beat satisfying himself alone; calling her, Patrick had considered her as a temporary fix. Gritting her teeth, Gemma stormed slamming the front door as she entered; Patrick watched his hand move beneath the surface of the water, the misery rising in him. Since losing his mother, Patrick wanted comfort; Gemma was convenient; he knew it was wrong to use her that way; he thought she understood, making no promises for a future together. Their relationship was casual sex or watching movies; Patrick fooled himself, believing she was happy with the situation; Emilie liked her, warning him to treat her with respect. The door slammed hard; he could tell she was crying; they shared an uncomfortable stare as the taxi arrived. Returning his gaze to the water, he wondered if he should message her later, apologise, except he worried it would give the wrong impression, it was another thing in his life, finished.

Forced responsibility came with its issues, Charlotte, a few years younger, huffed whenever he asked her to help with the house. The main house stood mournful and empty, Patrick took residence, although he felt uneasy taking the main bedroom, instead made himself comfortable on the sofa, and woken with dog slobber from an excitable Sparky as the sun rose. Patrick needed space; Charlotte gave him a confused stare, her mouth filled with Pancakes; she chewed slow, deliberate; they had two buildings with ample room; what extra did he need?

He had met with Juliana for a drink; when he mentioned the struggle, dealing with Emilie’s death, accepting his new role as guardian, Juliana suggested a few days break. It would be at the weekend; Patrick knew Charlotte could spend her time with Eliza, their sister recommended Karaoke and shopping. The alternative would be to ask Caleb to stay with her; this idea made him uncomfortable, but he chose to respect his sister would make poor choices. Charlotte continued to glare; her mouth seemed dry, making it difficult to swallow the food; eyes stung, he would abandon her, the dog made a poor substitute. She apologised, taking his care and kindness for granted; the teasing of the fuzzy tufts of hair covered his top lip and chin, backtracking her previous comments to suggest his beard would look impressive. Granite Falls was close; if Charlotte needed him, Patrick promised he would be home besides camping might disagree with him, and he’ll long for the comforts of home. Pushing the plate harder than intended, Charlotte bit back tears; Patrick shifted his chair as it landed in his lap. There had been name-calling, dramatic tears in the past; Charlotte stood composing herself; rather than succumbing to his presumption, she headed for school, leaving him to clean the mess.

Patrick: Bearded Responsibility

Comment on how he looked like Rylan saw Patrick decide a beard would be a good look as he celebrated his eighteenth birthday. The additional insult came with the birthday party that failed to transpire. His friends preferred the new club in Windenberg, leaving his costume themed evening after paying their respects and shoving gifts in his hands. Emilie bellowed “Happy Birthday” with an on-core from Sparky howling, whipping her infamous chocolate cake. Patrick rolled his eyes; the cake was nothing special, two sponge layers separated by strawberry jam and chocolate icing, the remaining icing topped with coloured sprinkles. She offered to add alcohol, maybe cayenne pepper, for an extra kick, but he pouted, disappointed by this getting older and missing his dad. Questions came regarding his future and career, would he remain in Newcrest? Venture across the globe? Girlfriend? Family? He stabbed the cake, enjoying his mothers cooking, but he had nothing to say the answers lost in transit. Perhaps was destiny decided elsewhere, and he would need to wait for it to come knocking.

Emilie believed children were the magnum opus; nothing in her existence brought her as much enjoyment as raising her babies. Her career had been a side gig to the home she wanted to create for her family; the computer programming work had helped her transition when Charlotte started school. Retirement had supposed to come with benefits, a husband, grandchildren and taking romantic holidays; the alternative brought loneliness. Charlotte and Patrick were living their lives seperate, and Eliza had moved on years ago. Sparky remained her constant; he stayed by her side, filled the bed where Rylan should have laid, and snored like him; Emilie stroked the fluffy mound finding comfort in the sound. Time called, memories of her children filled her with a warm glow, and Rylan’s voice beckoned from the other side. The dog lay in the doorway watching as Emilie died alone. It would be evening when Charlotte came rushing in, gushing, Caleb’s romantic messages made her swoon, her voice sang, filled with love and expectation, broke to discover her mother in the permanence of sleep.

The weight of guilt, Patrick had relaxed in his cottage home as his mother took her final breath, a day spent surfing the internet, playing video games and chatting with friends. It should have occurred that Emilie may have enjoyed some company, uneaten pancaked sat mournful and cold, forgotten moments, and the woman who wanted nothing except time with her children at the start of the day. Decisions on Charlotte’s future, despite being a minor, she felt should be in her hands; neither Vicky nor Eliza had space to take her in, and Patrick felt he was ill-equipped to deal with his and his sister’s grief. Charlotte had a couple of years remaining in school; Eliza supported her choice to stay in the family home; it made no sense to rip her from the life she knew, integrate her into city life and a new school. As a young adult, the law decided Patrick was a suitable guardian and encouraged him to find employment, to demonstrate responsibility and provide a stable home.

Charlotte: The Talk

Part Two

Caleb believed they should wait; take their time; someone so young should treasure their virtue; ensure the person they surrendered it to was worth every moment. Everything she desired was sitting on her bed, a soul that believed in remaining chaste and chivalrous, encouraging her to hold on for someone or something better. Except, Charlotte knew her mind, and times had changed, women embraced independence, made decisions and needed no man to protect her; they had the choices women he knew as a human were unable to possess. She pushed him back, taking control; Charlotte wanted to give him everything; since the rules kept him from siring as a teen, she would embrace the pleasures of humanity, refusing to let him deny her.

Emilie appeared to have been naive to her children’s behaviour in their separate abode, she respected their need for independance, but Charlotte was her baby. A discussion avoided with the older two children, she hope Charlotte would humour her mothering tendencies. She practised, describing the intimate connection Charlotte would discover as she and Caleb became close. Caleb was another story, Emilie puzzled why a man in his twenties would dress in victorian style, with a gentleman’s manner. Charlotte appeared, a thin black dressing gown covering her slender gown, Caleb gave a polite nod to Emilie, and after respectfully kissing Charlotte’s cheek, he disappeared into the night. Her mother got the feeling her advice was coming late; her eyes glistened as Charlotte dismissed the talk of how men and women connect, the physicality of love and the need for precautions. Things for Charlotte were changing fast; Emilie wanted to hold her child, protect the sweetness, an eternity of a mother and daughter bond. The lost innocence glowed in Charlotte, altering her subconscious and filling her desire to experience Caleb and the world he was opening to her.

Caleb paced, anxious, pre-dawn would leave him a short window to retreat into the shadows should Charlotte reject his proposal. He weighed the decisions, his love for her as a human, and the passion they could experience as companions. Life had felt fleeting; his previous lovers were human, men and women indulged in the fantasy; his previous partner gave him two children, but the difficulties in raising humans as an immortal divided them. If Charlotte was his next, she had to understand; he would love her, cherish their lives together, give her everything, except what she was asking, eternal life. History told how the creation of a vampire mate broke Caleb’s sire; Vlad thought everything would remain perfect, the two leaving a bloody trail and a brood of immortals born. The humans uprising; her life ended upon her rebirth with the rising sun; it threw weight into Vlad’s decision to maintain hostile relations with the casters and their decision to create the Ministry a body that ruled the occults. Lilith, Caleb’s sister, supported Vlad; it created a bitterness that has since waned as they, along with other vampires, maintain the decision to keep a human.

Charlotte laughed, questioning the perception of humans as pets; she imagined them locked in cages, fed scraps, or taken for moonlit walks, denied the sun and rewarded with the lustful nature of their master. Caleb had awoken aspects of her mind; his dismissal of her affections as a childish crush was hurtful. She wanted to explore her body, mind and the world; teenage boys held nothing for her; why would she want the boring life they offered; when Charlotte’s destiny, was extraordinary. This argument held Caleb, captivated by her beauty and purity, his eyes gazed at her exposed neck, heart beating, warm breath smoked the air, and he succumbed to the hungry, a swift reaction.

Charlotte pressed her body to his; teeth grazed her shoulder, sinking as blood pooled. She gasped as he drank deeper; tears trickled down her cheeks, Charlotte held the pain, her grasp grew weak, and her body slumped. Lifting her into the hot tub, Caleb ran his fingers across the puncture wounds; with her breath shallow, Charlotte denied her suffering. Grabbing him, her intentions unhonourable; her mother implied the warm waters were for relaxation, Caleb used them to help heal her, but Charlotte proved her worth to Caleb, creating a place of passion.

Eliza: Love Day

Eliza set her sights on the dream; her role changed from oversized mascot to cheerleader, and a coveted team position, was in sight after a conversation with the manager. He observed her, the team spirit, energy and effort she was putting in to master the drills. Long term, Eliza needed to consider her future, unsure if chasing a leather ball on a field for ninety minutes would satisfy her. The manager begged her to consider the offer, discovering she was a descendant of Aria Rodriguez, convinced him, Eliza would prevail where her grandmother failed. Ziva told the story with an alternative ending; dreams shattered as Aria worked to help others achieve their fitness goals.

She settled at the bar; a decision could wait; this bonus would buy her a few celebratory drinks; of course, the self-imposed guilt that she should be putting it towards a new apartment did nothing to deter, Eliza needed this release. Living with rats grated, her landlord insisted he met regulation standards for health and safety; perhaps he should tell that to the cockroach intrusion living in her kitchen cupboard. Eliza had sealed it shut, and the devils were eating through; the noise reminded her of a horror movie. Shuddering, she ordered bar food, preferring the smell of stale alcohol-soaked rugs, tuneless singing from the Karaoke rooms and laughter with friends.

In the sims nation calendar, a day dedicated to romance makes people swoon, offer gifts, flowers, gestures, and the lucky few get to have a moonlit date with their partner. Eliza had ignored Love Day; each year, she cared little for the extravagance, but seeing her sister gush, her love for Caleb, she felt uneasy in her jealousy. As for Patrick, his approach to various women seemed to fall in the realm of lust; Eliza wondered why no one was celebrating self-love, giving themselves compassion or a pamper filled afternoon. Sai had a similar opinion, dumped by his girlfriend, a day battling the Temple of Doom, Eliza’s favourite computer game, or sparring on the punch bag seem the perfect alternative to witnessing the cringefest that would greet them at the bar.

Emilie reassured Eliza, love is, waiting; nothing good came from rushing. The comforting words came with a bittersweetness; Eliza understood her mother missed Rylan; with Charlotte and Patrick living independent, she was alone. Eliza would invite her to the city, a day together, a massage, have their nails done, each time declined, with Emilie convinced Eliza would prefer younger company. As for the invite to move home, Eliza loved her life; the penthouse apartment required some sacrifices; she realised this meant accepting the manager’s proposition; a pro-athlete would be a significant achievement and a salary befitting her sky-high dreams.

Milly: What is Normal?

Normal had come with an abundance of chaos; in their former life, Ziva would take Fiona walking, Vicky prepared breakfast, and Milly brought the chaos. Their daughter chased the cats, splashed water in the bathroom or would have the sudden recollection her was homework was incomplete. Since Winterfest, Vicky struggled to find the motivation; Milly would find herself alone, shovelling leftovers in her mouth, walking the dog, amongst other chores she set herself. Taking a stern look in the mirror, Vicky knew this had to change; no time for baby steps; she threw her dungarees, Milly joked how they were learning to crawl, anything to escape another day of wear. Ziva had loved bright colours; Vicky had preferred those on her canvas but redefining her style with cropped hair breathed new life into her. The vibrant reds and yellows made her feel closer to the love she missed, as she twirled and strutted through the house, her daughter’s cheekiness continued to lighten the mood.

Having a child late in life meant difficult choices ahead; Vicky wondered who would support Milly when her time came. Her siblings had grown distant through the years, Simon and Liam settled, raising their families, while Alexis seemed to flit from man to man, her children had different fathers. Unlike Rylan’s children, Vicky’s family provided cousins similar in age to Milly, but getting them together, Milly shied, unable to relate to them. Excitement happened when Eliza visited, perhaps since, biologically, they were half-sisters, Milly felt a connection, or maybe she reminded her of Ziva. When Eliza had returned to her black locks, Vicky could see the family resemblance, calling her Ziva by accident. Eliza took it as a compliment; she admired her aunt, a knowledge thirst, and computer passion, their conversations lost the rest of the family. Either way, Milly needed to feel at home with the family when Vicky’s time came.

It was a difficult conversation one Milly struggled to understand, losing one mother and the thought she may lose Vicky, unbearable sorrow turned to anger with Milly feeling Vicky planned to abandon her. Vicky choked on words, failing to bring comfort to her daughter; they had encouraged honest communication; this was one time Vicky wanted to lie. She bowed her head, their meal going cold, wishing she could promise, be there as Milly grew into a beautiful, strong, and independent young woman. Sighing, she wrapped an arm across Milly’s shoulders; some things she should perhaps discuss with adults rather than her daughter.

School disappointed Milly, the words, numbers, and teachers; she would rather be home drawing. The discussion with Vicky had spun her thoughts in numerous directions, catching them, maintaining a balance and realism; Milly closed herself off, unable to deal with what might happen. Winter had continued its cruel path; the returning blizzard brought Grim again to their door, Fiona joined his list. It drove home Vicky’s message; Milly hated the idea she would one day bury another parent. Milly clutched her homework book, hoping the teachers would give her some slack, worries for her mother, a future without her, a constant distraction.

Charlotte: “The Talk”

Part One

Charlotte knew, zero doubts in her mind that she had, at the tender age of sixteen, met the man, her eternal partner. Heartbeat rapid, cheeks glowed, a text from him made her float, the joy she spread infected the house. Emilie mused; Charlotte proclaimed to love a man she had met twice. He invited had invited her to dinner; Emilie gave him “the look”; a concerned mother unsure her daughter should be dating. She considered Charlotte her baby, as though she would be five years old until she died. His demeanour was significantly older than his apparent years; he showed a polite and assertive presence, addressing Emilie as Mrs and Ma’am, she disliked both, but Caleb seemed unable to drop the formality.

Charlotte shuddered, a nervous giggle, awaiting their second date; the Romance Festival held promise and the elixir that opened the gateway to a lovers heart. Secrets exposed as Sakura tea, its silky texture stroked the throat, warming the body and awakening the senses. His icy touch made her skin hum, hair on her neck stood as his lips brushed her throat, a smooth cheek against hers and the promised kiss. Body melted to his, fingers curled in hairs; Charlotte wanted this kiss to devour, to have Caleb claim her as his.

He forced them apart, a mix of fear and desire, his eyes fierce, a warning she was getting close, a deep growl, Caleb regretted his decision, wondering if he could take it back. Their date had been an unwise choice; aside from the tea’s influence, Charlotte was hungry, eyeing the food stalls and the mouth-watering options. Food was no longer a staple of Caleb’s diet for several centuries, in his formative years, Caleb enjoyed the illusion that fine dining gave him some sustenance, a pretence he no longer used. Her fascination scared him; Charlotte showed excitement, a fascination with the lives he experienced, the ones he tasted. Human lovers refused to eat with him, embarrassed by their natural desire to consume; Charlotte made no admission; she delved into the rich sauce, twirling her fork, savouring every bite. Charlotte moaned as flavours filled her senses, making the restaurant patrons blush. He found the performance hypnotic, the throat as she swallowed, his lips parted, desiring her blood.

Vampires took an oath to take what they needed by permission, to leave beating hearts; their numbers dwindled as humans chose to refuse the bite. Others, including his master Vlad, refused to surrender his nature, the hunt, feeling the unquenchable thirst, he continued to feed unrestricted. Why the oath existed was debatable, Caleb believed it came from the war, a surge of power that saw the magic realm ripped from existence. Spellcasters attempted to bend the laws that bound this reality; they sort the power of the Sim Gods and death. The humans, unable to comprehend the magic surrounding them, targeted occult; merpeople disappeared, rumours of their presence in Sulani unsubstantiated, aliens survive bound in human disguises and werewolves hunted to extinction. Turning humans, forbidden by the high council; with a few exceptions to maintain ranks and as mates, but Caleb remained undecided in his thoughts. Charlotte was naive, and until she turned eighteen, deemed incapable of making the life-altering decision.

Patrick: Kiss Me Quick

Distracted, Patrick’s room remained unpacked as he courted Gemma. He had watched her, nerves getting the better of him each time he tried to ask her on a date. Homework failed to inspire the romantic vibes intended but determined to make it work in his favour. Emilie pulled a pan from the box, feeling their surprise house guest deserved a decent meal, noting with Charlotte increasing the phone bill with calls to Caleb, and her sister, to share everything; it seemed the food was unimportant.

The books sat untouched on the table; Patrick showed Gemma comedic videos he found online, subtle opportunities to touch her hand, arm, and face. Emilie spied from the kitchen; her son’s technique needed work. Ducking back into the kitchen, Emilie felt voyeuristic; Patrick leaned in, a stolen kiss, the girl giggled and kissed him back, they were lip-locked in the lounge and with dinner ready, Emilie wondered if she dared interrupt. Charlotte resolved the issue, making honking noises, revolted at the sight; Patrick punched her arm as they grabbed food piled plates.

The converted church Rylan purchased lost the homey feel Emilie strived to achieve their married life. The main building offered a spacious kitchen, dining and family area, with a second lounge and bedroom. Her bedroom had views of Newcrest, Emile perched on the bed stroking the vacancy, the moment she should have shared and the children who distanced themselves from the family, she tried and missed Rylan.

Patrick and Charlotte wrestled for their choice of bedroom in the opposing cottage. In a former life, it housed the mortuary; the Furniss transformed into a sauna, two bedrooms with on-suites were storage places and prepared the dead, a cinema room and bar, all beneath the ground were proud areas to showcase urns. The entrance comprised a kitchen; Patrick fed Gemma by hand; grilled cheese sandwiches, the two getting cosy made Charlotte jealous as Caleb seemed reluctant to move things towards an intimate meeting. She stormed to the main building, forced to spend time with her mother.

With the place to himself, sticky-fingered and distracted by kisses, Patrick stumbled downstairs; Gemma giggled, tugging at his shirt. Patrick grinned, his hands on Gemma’s waist, kicking the bedroom door shut; laughter followed, shuffling, the momentary silence and the erupted of pleasure. For a long term girlfriend, Patrick shrugged the idea, why tie himself to one woman, an abundance of fish awaited for him to feast upon. Burnt eggs with toast, a family staple, served to his family with a smile plastered to his face. Emilie watched him, disappointment and concern difficult, to hide; Gemma had disappeared early, and Patrick seemed careless as he talked of another girl he met at the movies called Julianna.

Charlotte: Crush

Despite Eliza’s many visits in the weeks following their father’s death, presents remained unopened; the decorations hung solemn, a stark reminder of Winterfest. Emilie retreated, grieved in solitude; Charlotte made an unkind remark, Rylan was neither husband nor father, he was a man whose time belonged to himself. Her mother, tired of arguments, kept distancing herself from the family, and Patrick spent his time in his bedroom. The comment, cruel, thoughtless and inconsiderate, a resulting wave of deep-rooted anger towards her father, leaving them on what should be a happy occasion, his demise scarring the holiday for everyone.

Charlotte convinced herself Eliza’s idea of bailing on the family was a good one, that if she disappeared, no one would notice her absence. Eliza disagreed; the pain of her broken relationship with Rylan would live with her, she was jealous Charlotte had his time. Handing Charlotte a key, Eliza reminded her of the importance of family, Eliza would be here whenever needed, but Emilie deserved an apology. She fumbled with the key, wondering if she had to go home or if it could wait till morning? Her sister handed her the phone; should Emilie agree, Charlotte could stay a few days.

They enjoyed food from the vendors; Charlotte eyed the locals, with one catching her eye. He stood at odds with his surroundings, dressed in Victorian or gothic attire, the heavy red velveteen jacket with gold detail, his black fitted trousers. Her eyes trailed towards his youthful face, the defined features, deep pooling eyes, and the hair, spiked at the top, and a long fringe to one side, it gave her New Romantic vibes. She giggled, her cheeks flushed, his gaze remained with her; Charlotte felt warmed by his presence; it made her shift in her seat. Eliza cleared her throat, keen to regain her sister’s attention, clicking her fingers to break the hypnotised girl.

Whoever this man was, his age was deceptive, and Charlotte was young and impressionable. Eliza glared as a silent Charlotte floated towards him, voice betrayed her, remaining muted as the gentleman took her hand, firm, to his cold lips. Caleb, his eyes shimmered in the lamplight, lips curled revealing pointed canines, withdrawing quick, he led her to a table. Ignoring Eliza, Charlotte listened to the poetic voice, finding her voice soft, silky sweet. Charlotte danced for weeks after, her conversations with Eliza were conversations where all talk of Caleb. Heart skipped as she spoke, voice breathless and changed by the love growing inside.

At home, the atmosphere grew tense; Emilie could bear the tree no longer, the wrapped presents she prevented the children from opening needed a resolve. Pain filled her, she watched broken her two children rip through presents; Patrick tugged a small box, sellotaped to an a4 envelope. A final gift from Rylan was the deeds to a new house; it seemed fitting, the unreturned calls from the realtor and the sudden desire to tidy Winterfest decor, Emilie long suspect Rylan’s boxing day surprise. Patrick stood handing his mother a box; Charlotte tossed in a sofa cushion; if it was Rylan’s last wish, they were on board with it.