Gilded Lily(89)

He wanted more for Lily than just surviving emotionally from day to day. She deserved to experience the true joys of life without the baggage of loss and despair. She’d been handling that long enough. This was her time to grow and gather the puzzle pieces together. The time she was going to spend down here was destined to bring her peace and give the fresh start for them to begin their lives together. They would build from the strength she found in this meadow.

Nick was right, Adam thought as he ran his hand over his sweat-drenched forehead. There was a presence on this land. The air was embedded with the whispering voices and moving shades of people. This was the place where memories came to expand or die. For his Lily Flower, those memories were going to do both.

“Adam?” He heard her soft voice behind the door. It sounded low, as if she was sitting on the floor. He kept silent. “Are you still there?” She sniffled. “If you are, please let me out. I promise I won’t disobey you again. I promise.”

He turned to stand, then stopped. He leaned against the door so she could hear him. “Tell me your safe word.”

“What?”

“Now, tell me your safe word.”

There was a long pause behind the door.

“Marigold.”

This was what she needed. He could tell in the tone of her voice, the way she tensed when they talked about her grandmother. The sadness in her eyes when she talked about Nick affected him. The memories of what she’d lost taunted her. Her grandmother left her longing for the innocence she’d once cherished; the bastard who made her feel shame took away her strength to fight for her pleasure; and the loss of her friend left her scarred. He knew the memories had to fuel her passion instead of hindering the desire she deserved. The time had come for her to accept what she’d lost and cherish what she’d shared with the people she loved. The time was now to let go—to experience complete abandonment. The meadow was the perfect place for her to safely let that energy transform into something beautiful.

Adam started to make his way up the grassy incline. He looked back at the shack. Dusk was coming. He’d bring her something to eat, then leave her. Excitement filled his chest as he thought about her washing herself tomorrow. She’d be as wild as a caged cat, and he’d savor every moment of it.



ADAM HADN’T ANSWERED. Lily looked around the small space as she hovered by the locked door. She’d promised she wouldn’t touch herself again. She shivered as she remembered the look on Adam’s face when he found her in the outdoor tub. She thought he’d gone to town, that she could just sneak a moment. But she’d quickly realized she’d been wrong when she saw the disappointed look on his face. So here she was, sitting naked on a hardwood floor with a mattress and an old, worn journal. He’s got some nerve! She’d specifically told him she didn’t like it down here; too many memories.

Lily wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them close to her chest. Inside the cobblestone fireplace were ashes piled on the hearth floor. Who had been here? There were only two small windows that were crossed with two thin wooden slats. The herbal aroma of lemongrass and lavender filled the dusty air. There was no furniture, no radio, no TV. No other soul to speak to. She was alone. Alone. The one place she feared most. The one place Keith had said she’d always be. Realizing that dusk was looming outside and nightfall wouldn’t be far behind, she peered out of the dust-covered window as tears began to fall again.

“Why did you leave me?” She started to sob, then gathered her breath. The realization slapped her. The empty feeling deep inside her wasn’t because Adam had left her. The others had. Her grandma’s frail body had given up. Lily had sung to her while her lungs slowly weakened. The antibiotics weren’t working fast enough, and the pneumonia was taking its toll on the withered body lying in the bed.

Lily dipped her head to stare at the dusty floor. She’d spent night after night reading from the wretched romance novels her grandmother had kept next to her chair in the living room. Finally, on a Tuesday afternoon, her grandmother fell quietly asleep for the last time.

Lily felt the heat on her cheeks cool with the tears drying there. She wasn’t going to break down again. She didn’t want to use her safe word. She was strong and could be down here without losing it. She recalled the last time she and her grandma had worked in the garden. She’d come back home from college to visit. They’d spent the greater part of the afternoon sweltering in the sun and drinking sweet tea as the dragonflies and bees did their familiar dance.

“You know why my flowers grow so well here, Lily?” she’d asked.