Paul effortlessly twirled Rose around. They would take two steps, she would place her hands on his shoulders and he would lift her up off her feet, almost throwing her into the air, and she would land soundly on her feet and they would do the steps all over again. She was dizzy, she was laughing, she...froze.
She landed on the floor with a crash and the music in the room stopped, as if the band was playing just for her. There were a few loud gasps followed by a flurry of feet plodding in her direction.
"Rose!" she heard Paul exclaim. "Rose! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
For a moment, she felt weightless as someone scooped her up into their arms and carried her away from the brightly lit room. Somewhere in the distance she heard someone say something about her and the music started up again – dull, eerie and distant.
**
"She's okay!" a voice called from the other side of the room. She stirred and opened her eyes slowly, the candlelight on the table next to her was too piercing for her to handle at the moment. She shielded her face from the warm glow and rolled onto her side. Her hips were aching, she had a piercing pain in her wrist when she moved and the back of her head thudded and throbbed.
A weightiness surrounded her and she heard someone say, "Give her some air."
"Rose..." it was the voice of her mother. "Rose, can you hear me?"
"Of course she can hear you," she heard her father say. She shooed her hand in the direction she heard her mother's voice. She didn't want to deal with her right now.
"I'm fine," Rose mumbled, her tongue tripping over the simple words.
"She hit her head pretty hard," the strange voice said, somewhere in the directions she'd heard her father's voice. "Everything seems fine."
"I'm fi-i-ine," Rose said, a little louder this time. "My head is..." her words trailed off.
"She may have sprained her wrist, so we'll keep that immobilized for the next few days, let me know if there's any swelling..."
"Nothing's wrong with me," she said, her eyes still closed. She shook her head back and forth and immediately groaned in pain when the thudding in the front of her head started up again.
"What should we do?" her mother asked softly.
"Let her rest," the voice replied. "If anything happens, let me know. I'll come back in the morning."
**
Rose sat on a large stone that overlooked the ocean. She looked down at her arm, her hand and wrist were bandaged up tightly and the side of her pinky finger was black and blue. She was convinced she'd broken her finger, but the doctor told her otherwise – it was just a bruise. Her gaze traveled down to her leg and she frowned at the floor burn that had spread across the side of her calf. She couldn't remember what had happened. Her parents told her that Paul had skillfully tossed her into the air during a complicated dance move and she landed wrong. She had no choice but to believe them.
"Rose?" she heard Paul's timid voice behind her. She turned her head towards him and before he could say anything further, she saw his voice catch and his face twist in regret.
"My fault," she said, holding her bandaged arm up to see.
"Oh Rose, I'm so, so sorry," he said, rushing to her side and kneeling next to her. She shook her head and pulled her arm into her lap.
"What happened?" she whispered, gingerly stroking her black and blue finger.
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head, "the song was almost over and I threw you up in the air and you just...froze."
"The doctor said I hit my head really hard," she said, reaching back and gingerly rubbing at the sore spot at the base of her skull.
"You did," he said, nodding, unwilling to meet her gaze. "I thought you were out cold."
"I don't remember anything," she said.
"That's what your father said," he said.
"You've been talking with my father?" she asked, trying to meet his eyes.
"I'm always talking with him," he replied dumbly.
"About what?"
"You."
Her heart jumped and she suddenly felt a familiar pounding sensation in the back of her head. She buried her head in her hands and folded her arms over her knees. Silently, she bit into the hem of her dress and breathed heavily, waiting for the moment to pass and the pounding in her head to subside.
"Rose..." he murmured cautiously, "should I fetch...?"
"No," she said quickly, not looking up. "I'm fine." She took a deep breath, raised her head and trained her gaze on the horizon.
"Good. I have a question for you, Rose," he said. His voice was swimming with nervousness and her heart pounded so loud it was all she could hear.
"Please," she panicked, not turning her gaze to him.
"I've spoken with your father..."
"No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, "not now, please..."
He trailed on like a broken recording and Rose tuned him out, not hearing a word he said. Suddenly, he went silent and she dared herself to turn her head to him.
"Marry me?" he asked, though his request was more of a question and his face was filled with uncertainty and worry. Immediately, she burst into tears and buried her head back in her knees. The pounding in the back of her head returned swiftly and her face burned with embarrassment and shame.
"Rose, please..." he trailed off again and when she finally raised her head and turned her attention back to him, he had placed an open ring box at her feet. Tears fell freely down her cheeks and she could tell just by glancing at him that he was wracked with concern. She shook her head, but gingerly lifted the ring in it's box and carefully examined the diamonds and sapphires that studded the ring.
"I've only known you a couple of weeks," she said quietly, running her finger over the largest rock.
"And in those couple of weeks I know that you're the one for me," Paul explained. "You're the only one that I want. I dream about you at night and you're all I think about all waking hours of the day. Please Rose, please do me this honor."
She turned her head away, closed the box and handed it back over to him. "I can't honor you..."
He pushed the box back into her hands and softly kissed her knuckles. "But...I want you!"
She shook her head again, more tears streaming down her red cheeks, but didn't refuse the ring. She muttered his name so sadly that he felt he had no choice but to throw his arm tightly around her shoulders.
"Your father and I have been talking..."
"I know, I know."
"We...he thinks this is best."
She nodded and tentatively opened the box again. The diamonds and sapphires sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight and she wondered for a moment whether or not James would choose such a ring for her.
"The blue in the sapphires matches the blue in your eyes," Paul remarked.
She nodded and reluctantly took the ring from it's box and slipped it over her finger.
"Is that a yes?" he asked nervously.
"I don't have any other choice," she whispered under her breath.
"Pardon?"
"Yes."
**
James noticed the bandaged arm and was about to ask what was wrong when he saw the unmistakable glint of a precious stone on Rose's hand.
"Rose..." he didn't even have to say another word before she burst into tears right in the middle of the entryway to his home. He quickly closed in on the space between the two of them and embraced her tightly in his arms.
"I feel so awful and my head hurts and my arm hurts and my heart hurts," she cried against his chest. "He came up to me when I was trying to sort my thoughts and he just kept pushing the damn ring into my hand and..." she stopped and raised her eyes to his, "I don't think I had any other choice."
James shook his head and took her left hand. He enveloped her hand in his own and kissed her softly and slowly on her forehead.
"I don't want him," she whispered and she pressed her wet cheek against James' warm chest.
"I know," he said quietly. He slowly ran his hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her as best he could while she stood there crying. He wanted to say something – anything – of reassurance, but the truth was, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. The large diamond ring was like a dagger in his chest and he wasn't sure if he should be mad at Paul, Rose's father or Rose herself for saying yes.
"I never dreamed he would ask me so soon," she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest. "I had hoped that you would ask me or... I don't know!"
He stood silently for a minute, his thoughts racing through his mind and boldly said, "What if I don't want to marry?"
Abruptly, Rose stopped crying and looked into James' face as if he had two heads. He shook his head and wordlessly moved his mouth trying to take back what he'd just said or figure out a way to fix it.
"You want to be alone for the rest of your life?" she asked, incredulously.
"No, no," he replied, "I just...there's a way around this. For you."
She immediately scoffed and looked off to the side of the room, "My mother has already started suggesting china patterns and my father and Paul have already started discussing where we're going to live and what sort of future I'm going to have."
"That means nothing," he said, "what matters is you have a say in all this, too. You get to choose when your wedding is, you can't let your fiance, or your family for that matter, control you."
She gave him a curious, sideways glance, "Go on."
"There's nothing saying you can't call it all off..." he said.
"But at what cost to me?" she asked. "To you?"
He pursed his lips together and shrugged, "As far as anyone knows, we're simply casual acquaintances."
