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Rose Lake, Minnesota – Thursday, June 29, 1995

M
atthew didn't want a big
celebration for his birthday, especially given the fact that Wilder and Erica's anniversary party was the next day. He'd laughed merrily at the parade of gifts the kids had presented him with throughout the day as he worked his shift at the beach, balloons (which flew up into the sky with a little help from Emma), singing, and even a cake with candles that wouldn't stay lit in the breeze. Erica insisted on a big dinner, though, with the kids, Erica's parents, Riley and Debbie. Despite the good cheer that seemed to radiate off the very walls that evening, Bryce found herself quiet and withdrawn, as understanding of what she must do began to dawn.

God, they love him so much
, she thought, and despite the laughter and the loud music, the voices and smiles and flurry of a happy family celebrating one of many, many happy birthdays, she felt a cold twisting pain in her gut, 100 times worse than what she'd been denying, because this was final. Not the threat of pain anymore, but the reality of it; she knew, suddenly and certainly, what she must do. What it would be up to her to do before this week was out.

On the dock that night she was unusually quiet, her back curled into Matthew's chest like a question mark, barely able to keep the shaking from her limbs. The sickness in her gut had long since invaded the rest of her body, but she told herself,
Not tonight. Not on his birthday
.

Matthew tipped his chin and kissed the top of her head and another part of her died; the strength and heat of his body behind her was nearly unbearable now with the knowledge she had finally surrendered to. She would literally rather die than part from him, and yet die she must, because he deserved better than her. No matter what he thought. He had a family who loved him, and who would do anything on Earth for him…and he deserved a woman who could love him in the open, who could bear his babies and who his family would love, too. For the right reasons.

Oh, God
. For a moment she was dizzy with the crippling pain and closed her eyes tightly against the vertigo in her head. Matthew felt her shift and curled his arms more tightly around her torso. He whispered, “You all right, sweetheart?”

She couldn't speak, but managed to nod. She thought,
I have to leave tonight. I can't take it another moment. If I don't do this now, I won't have the strength
.

But Matthew spoke just as her lips parted, and the words froze on her tongue. He whispered, “I have something for you.”

She whispered back, inanely, “But it's your birthday.”

She felt his smile in the air above her head. “I know, but your present leads to the only birthday present I really want.”

He shifted behind her and she turned to face him, struggling to keep the pain from her eyes, finding his almost glowing with happiness behind her. She thought that her heart might shred itself to pieces just looking at that expression in his eyes. It would shred, and then remain here with him, forever. She would never have it back, she knew that with conviction.

And then, to her utter horror, she realized that he was reaching into his sweatshirt pocket for something. Her heart stuttered, seemed to stop. She felt tears of joy springing into her eyes before she could think, the pure sweetness of the moment leaping out and into her soul for a wonderful, crystalline moment before reality inflicted its death-blow. Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp; Matthew was shifting to one knee on the dock in front of her, reaching with his free hand to catch one of hers and bring it to his lips. He had been grinning, but his wide, mobile, lovely mouth was suddenly serious, his dark eyes intent on her own.

“Elizabeth Bryce Mitchell, I love you with all of my heart,” he said, low and intense. “I wish that I could scoop the stars out of the sky and offer them to you and give you even a tiny of bit of what you've given me. I have never been happier in my life, or more fulfilled.” Here he stopped for a moment and drew a deep breath, while her insides leaked out and all around them on the ground. “I refuse to live one more day of my life without you in it, and so I ask you,” and his voice was a soft, husky, passionate whisper, “Will you be my wife?”

Bryce felt later as though she'd watched the entire moment, the most heartbreaking of her existence, from a few feet above, spiraling like cottonseed on a light wind. He felt her trembling, knew suddenly what was going to happen, and his heart splintered, a pick-axe driven into it. She couldn't take her eyes from his, the dark depths of them crushing her hard. Finally she had to look away, and so she reached and took the ring box into her hands, cupped it like a baby bird while his heart sent panicked blood all through his body.

“It's beautiful,” she managed to whisper past the jagged lump that was swiftly cutting off all air passage between her mouth and lungs. And it was, a small, solitary, glimmering round diamond, winking at her like a cruel joke under the stars she had no doubt Matthew would scoop from the sky and lay at her feet. He was the kindest, dearest, most beautiful man alive; no one could equal him, and that's why she must say it.

“But I can't,” she whispered, and gently placed the ring back into his hand. With that gesture her knees crumpled and she sank to the dock, unable to bear his stricken white face.

“Bryce,” he whispered, and he sounded like he was choking. He cupped her shoulders with both hands, trying unsuccessfully to quell the panic that was building in his chest. “Bryce, tell me what's wrong.”

She was sobbing almost soundlessly, face buried in her hands, and he was terrified. He shook her a little, his heart thundering, his chest tight. “Bryce!”

And she lashed out, anger swelling as it had the very first night they'd been near the lake, and she let it come once again, because it was the only lifeline she had at this point. She could see before her now the grim path she would now inevitably take; in time she would perhaps be able to live day to day with the memory of annihilating both of them with her words.

“Goddamn it, Matthew, you live in a dream world!” she hissed at him, hating herself. “We are related! We can never get married, because it's
illegal!
” Her words flew out in gasps, punctuated by near-hysterical sobs. “Your family loves you, goddamn it! You don't even know how much they love you, how lucky you are. I would give anything to have that!” He opened his mouth but she cut him off, wriggling out of his grasp and leaping to her feet. She was scarcely taller than him while he was kneeling. “You have everything here, and I won't ruin that for you. Do you even know what people would say if they knew about us? What kind of horrible, ugly things they would say? I won't do that to you, Matthew. I won't.
I fucking love you too much!
” Tears were streaking over her face. And she was suddenly deflated, silent, hollow-hearted.

Matthew's eyes flared darkly into her own. It was all he could do to keep his voice from shaking. “If you think for a second that I am letting you go like that, you're wrong. So what if people talk. Fuck ‘em. Do you honestly think I would let a thing like that keep me from you? Are you actually going to stand there and tell me you think I won't fight for you,
do whatever I have to do?
”

Bryce closed her eyes, pain ripping her apart.
Oh, God, don't make this any harder. Matthew, my Matthew…I would do anything for you, anything but ruin your family. You're far too good for me, can't you see that?
Instead she whispered, broken, “I won't let you. Matthew, I won't let you do that.”

“I will march down to the house this moment and tell Wilder and Erica the truth. Hell, I planned to do that tonight anyway.”

Her eyes flew open in stunned surprise. He was still kneeling on the dock before her, his earnest gaze burning into her soul. He caught her hands and kissed her knuckles, and for a moment she wavered. He made it seem possible. He went on, softer now, “Baby, it's all right. We will make this work. I swear to you, Bryce. You are my heart and soul, my entire life.”

And you are mine
. For a fleeting moment she let herself imagine it would be as he said…until the memory of her conversation with Wilder only days earlier blazed into her mind, and she knew she was right to do this. Matthew would be the world's best father, and she would not deny him that, no matter what. Agony crackled in her veins, poisonous. She gathered all of her courage and spoke the lie aloud. She heard her voice say, “I won't marry you, Matthew. Not now, not ever.” She wanted to die, now.
His eyes
. She choked, “I'm so sorry.”

And then she ran, the dock trembling beneath her feet, stumbling through the woods and up the porch, into the dark, silent, sleeping house. In her bathroom she knelt and vomitted as quietly as she could manage, until she was weak and raw. She tipped her skull against the cool edge of the tub, incapacitated, hardly able to draw a breath. She listened for Matthew to re-enter the house, but the night passed eventually into a dim gray dawn, and still he didn't come home.

***

Morning. Bryce
awoke to the sound of breakfast activity below, Erica and the girls making what smelled like pancakes to the tune of the local country station. Her head was thrumming like truck tires on the interstate; she was crumpled beside the tub, the grout lines from the tiny floor tiles criss-crossing her right cheek in livid red lines.

I have to go down there and be normal
, she thought, easing to a sitting position, cradling her torso, which contained all of her most injured parts.
Oh, God, is he in the house?
The thought of seeing Matthew today made her entire body seize with terror
. I can't be near him after last night. I will fold, I will give in. I will fucking die
. Her longing was a tangible thing in the air all around her. In time maybe it would subside slightly, enough so that she could make it through an hour without aching for him. Her breath was coming in gasps and she bent her head between her knees, crazy with need for him.
If
he hurts even a fraction of how much I do, I can't bear to see him
. And she knew he did.

She delayed making her entrance as long as she dared, standing in the hot shower until her skin was nearly flayed off.
It's just a few more hours
, she promised herself.
Just until I can buy a bus ticket
.

“Bryce! Are you excited for tonight?” Evelyn's voice reached her as she came slipping down the staircase, straining to hear any sounds of Matthew in the rooms below. Her heart tripped over itself as her young cousin appeared at the bottom of the stairs, face shining. The scent of bacon and warm maple syrup drifted from the kitchen and Bryce felt the need to puke all over again, but forcibly restrained herself, made her feet continue their forward course. To Evelyn she replied, her voice gravelly, “What's tonight?”

“Daddy and Mom's anniversary party, remember?”

“That's right,” she said weakly.
Shit, how do I get out of this?

To her intense relief, Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Erica, seated at the table with the twins, caught sight of Bryce and called, “Hungry, honey?”

It's all the acting skills you have right now, Bryce
, she told herself. But she said, “I'm not really hungry. I think I might be sick.”
You fucking coward
. But another part of her didn't care what she had to do to get this over with.

“Oh, honey,” Erica sympathized, as Bryce sank into her usual chair and forced herself to meet her aunt's kind eyes. “You do look a little peaked. Maybe you should stay here and sleep awhile longer. Rest up for tonight.”

“Bryce, you look like you're gonna barf,” Emma added helpfully, and Erica's eyes became slightly alarmed. She sprang from her chair and moved around the table, reaching to place her right palm on Bryce's forehead.

“You don't feel feverish,” she mused, and then patted Bryce's head as though she was a little girl. “But better get back to bed all the same. I'll head back at lunch to check on you.”

***

Hours passed.
Bryce fell into a dreamless, boneless sleep, her body drenched with agonized exhaustion. When she finally woke, the afternoon light was warm on her bed, a rich and beautiful honey spill across the white bedspread. She hadn't called for a bus ticket today. She had scarcely moved from the same position while sleeping, and her fingers and toes tingled with pins and needles; her mouth was dust-dry.

Matthew. Where are you?

Her heart thumped in painful acknowledgement of last night and what she had said to him.

Please don't believe me. I would marry you tomorrow if I thought I could
.

She curled around herself, her heart a gaping open wound in her chest. Seconds later a soft tap sounded at her door and she stiffened as though electrocuted. Erica's voice then, gentle, “You awake in there, honey?”

Bryce cleared her throat, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. She said, “Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Erica peeked around the door. “You feeling up to coming tonight? It won't be the same without you there.”

Oh, Erica. I wanted you for my family so bad
. She heard herself reply, “Yes, but I think I better head home tomorrow. I need to get back to my job.” Forcing a chuckle, she concluded, “Connie is ready to kill me for missing so much time.”

Erica's eyebrows lifted, making archs. “Already? You've only been here less than two weeks!”

Oh my God. Has it been such a short time?
Bryce said, her voice trembling only a little, “I will really miss you guys, though.”