Tonight is my last night. It seems unbelievable to think once I leave this house, I will never see Rocco again. I put on the only good black shoes I have and start walking towards the stairs. Rocco is waiting at the bottom. He exhales in a rush when he sees me. He stares at me as he cannot believe his eyes. The look is so intense I feel myself blushing.
“You’re so beautiful, Autumn,” he whispers.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I whisper back, and it is true. He is an extraordinarily beautiful being. Whenever I have been with him, I have noticed everyone openly staring at him.
We have dinner in the dining room. It is lit with hundreds of candles the way it was the first night we dined here. We eat, we drink champagne, we talk, we laugh, we flirt, but inside I am so sad I want to cry. As I am eating my delicious chocolate torte that feels like clay in my mouth, tears begin to run down my face.
He comes to me, kneels down, and puts his arm around me. “Don’t cry, Princess. You made the right decision, and I’m so proud of you.”
I stare at him through my tears. “I think I’ve changed my mind,” I mutter.
“Stay strong, Autumn. Don’t do anything you will regret for the rest of your endless life.”
“I can’t. I just can’t leave you.”
“Will your great love for me be forever bathed in the blood of countless innocent humans?”
I flinch at the ugly thought. I know he is right. I’m being selfish.
“I’m sorry for being so weak, but it's so hard to leave you. I can’t even bear the thought,” I sob.
“You are young. In time you will forget me and find,” he swallows hard, “someone else and you will fall in love, marry him, and have a family of your own.”
I look deep into his eyes. “How will I ever find a man to equal you?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You will love again, of that I am sure. You are too beautiful not to.”
I stroke his marvelously golden hair. “I know you probably don’t love me like I do you, but can you just pretend and say you do. Just for tonight. It will make me feel better.”
He clenches his jaw hard, and then he forces the words out, “I love you.”
And I realize why he never said it, because hearing the words doesn’t make me feel better at all, it breaks me. I begin to sob inconsolably. The loss of Sam and now him, it just overwhelms me. I cannot stop. The pain comes from deep inside me and I wail like a mother who has lost her child. I beat his shoulders, my hands clawing into his flesh.
I cry until I feel like a hollow drum. There is nothing inside. No pain, no love. Just emptiness. He carries me upstairs to his bedroom and lays me in his bed. We don't even make love. He just holds me and rocks me.
“Tell me about your childhood.” I whisper.
“No,” he says gently. “The less you know me the better. You must start to forget me, Autumn.”
“All right. Maybe you’re right, but I don’t want to end my last night with you like this. Let’s go up to the observatory and have a drink. Get drunk together on old wine. I want to remember us happy.”
He smiles. “Okay.”
We go upstairs and get drunk together, well, at least I do. The alcohol doesn’t seem to affect him at all. I get so sloshed I do a clumsy striptease for him. There is a strange expression on his face as he watches me. Greedy, hungry, but sometimes I see flashes of pain and sadness. We make love on the pedestal under the stars and the nearly full moon. Afterwards, he gives me those herbal tablets and I fall asleep in his arms.
I wake up in Rocco’s bed when it is nearly dawn. I can see the first tinge of light is already in the sky. I turn my head and see him watching me.
“Good morning,” I whisper, feeling strangely calm. Perhaps, I have resigned myself to my fate, or perhaps it is the calm before the storm.
“Good morning,” he whispers back.
“Did you not sleep at all?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you nap for an hour? I’ll go down and put the finishing touches to the painting and we can spend the rest of the morning and afternoon together.”
“Okay, come up when you’ve finished. I can’t wait to see it.”
I kiss him gently, tenderly, and slip out of bed. He watches me as I put on his discarded shirt. It’s cold against my skin, but it still smells of him. Downstairs, I can hear the servants moving about in the other part of the house as I make my way to the library. I don’t waste time. I immediately set about finishing my painting.