Married To The Mad Vampire Lord - Chapter 561

Chapter 561: Meeting again_Part 3
Angel stared at her, taking in how much she had grown in the years he had been away. The last time he had seen her, she was still a girl, yet now, though a woman, she still looked almost like a teen. From her surprised expression, he could tell that no one had mentioned his coming to attend her wedding, and he wished he hadn’t arrived at this particular moment to meet her before her wedding.

Her brown eyes were as he remembered, only now sharpened with a subtle draw at the sides that made them cat-like. She had long, curled eyelashes, and the rims of her eyes were pink and irritated from vomiting. He noted everything, every small change and every familiar detail, as if committing her face to memory all over again.

She still had the small button nose, now faintly flushed, and a roundish-oval face. Her lips were small and parted as she stared at him in disbelief. He knew he should speak, he should say something, yet Max realized he had lost the ability to say anything. To be honest, he was embarrassed to face her after shutting her out of his life without explanation or giving her a reason for not reading her letters in his school.

They sat on the grass, staring at each other, until a gust of breeze blew in their direction. Her red hair fell over her face, breaking her from her reverie. She blinked and moved back, and Max fought the strong urge to reach out and tuck the red strands he had once loved behind her ear, red so vivid it almost bordered on the hue of blood.

“Hello, Red,” he finally said, the words breaking the silence. He realized she could hardly believe he was here, just as he could hardly believe he had come.

He shouldn’t be here; he didn’t even want to see her on her wedding day, yet he had convinced himself to come, to bid her a final goodbye and remove her permanently from his memories. Perhaps, too, he had wanted to see the man who would be claiming his Red. He chided himself for the hundredth times for still calling her his.

“I… I didn’t know you were coming,” Elle finally found her voice. By God, she hadn’t expected him here; no one had told her, and with how much he had shut her out in the past, she was certain he wouldn’t have made the journey just for her.

And as angry as she was for the pain he had caused her, Elle knew she had no right to show it. Displaying anger would only awaken the dead feelings of her childhood.

“I wasn’t sure either. How have you been?” he asked in his calm voice, his eyes locking with hers, making her wish he hadn’t seen her in the state she had been in after vomiting from nerves and fear. Why did he even come? And why hadn’t he come to meet her at a time when she had been beaming and excited about today, instead of now, when she felt weak and exposed? If anything, Elle wanted to show him that she was doing perfectly fine, that she was happy and whole even after he had ignored her and shut her out in the past.

He had changed, Elle thought. He looked more mature and grown-up, not that he hadn’t been grown-up before, but now it was different. Though he was sitting on the grass casually, with no care for the expensive coat he wore, he still towered over her seated form. His broad shoulders blocked the morning sun rising behind him, casting her in shadow.

His neck was thick with muscle and veins, and his face, she studied him quickly yet silently, looked sharper now, with defined angles. His nose remained straight and slim, his blue hair brushed neatly to the side, and his eyes…

Though dark as she remembered, something in them had changed. She couldn’t pinpoint what, and she didn’t want to stare too long. Realizing he had asked a question, she tore her gaze away and answered,

“I have been fine. What about you?” she returned, knowing he likely asked out of courtesy, not genuine concern, for had he cared, he wouldn’t have abandoned her the way he did.

You have no idea how much you’ve hurt me, Angel. Why did you push me away? she thought, but she didn’t dare voice it. Whatever had been between them was in the past.

Max’s eyes wavered at her question. How had he been? Not fine, not for a long time; he had long forgotten what “fine” felt like. Still, he gave a polite smile.

“Same,” he said briefly, then paused before adding, “Congratulations on your wedding. I hope you are happy?”

Elle, momentarily forgetting the day’s significance, snapped back to reality. Her heart thudded in her chest, perhaps loud enough for him to notice, because his eyes lowered to the left side of her chest and then returned to meet hers.

But she mustered what she hoped was a convincing smile and replied, “I am perfectly happy. Eryx is a good man, and he loves and takes care of me. I couldn’t ask for a better man. He is perfect.” All right, Elle, shut up. You are overdoing it, trying to prove a pointless point to someone who doesn’t even care, she chided herself silently.

“I see. I’m happy for you then,” Max mused, his lips curving into a faint smile that looked a little stiff, almost forced.

Was he happy for her? he asked himself. And even without having to search deep for the answer, he knew he wasn’t.

He looked away from her and glanced around the garden instead, where the morning birds’ songs filled the air and the warmth of the rising sun spread softly over the earth.

“The garden is lovely. The swing… I didn’t know you’d still have it up,” he remarked casually, though it was the swing he had crafted and hung for her when they had first moved here, something she had loved dearly.

Elle followed his gaze toward the yellow swing made of wood and painted in her favorite color. She had loved that swing, and she remembered how she had kissed him on the cheek when he had presented it to her. She still loved it despite everything, despite the years and the pain and the distance. Those wonderful days when he used to push her on it came rushing back unbidden.

Elle snapped herself out of the reminiscing and quickly looked away from the swing, refusing to let the memories pull her under.

“I have to go back inside. It’s a pleasure meeting you again, Angel. I would have loved to keep you company, but as you know, I can’t keep my groom waiting at the al—”

In her haste to escape, she stepped on the front hem of her dress and stumbled forward, falling right over the man she was trying to avoid.

With a swift movement possible only for a creature like him, he caught her against his body, laying backward on the soft grass to cushion her fall with his strong, solid frame. Elle gasped as her head pressed against his chest, her ear against where his heart beat, the rhythmic thumping loud against her.

She became acutely aware that his arms were wrapped around her waist and that his palm rested openly on the small of her back.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice vibrating against her ear, causing her to jerk her head up to move, but he was laying against her hair, making her fall back against his chest.

“Don’t move, Red. You will hurt yourself,” he said softly as she struggled to move away from him before someone saw them from the window of the house.

He recalled how she had once liked to lay against his chest because she said it made her feel safe, how he had been her personal warm bear. He remembered enjoying those moments, holding her close, but just as he recalled that, he became painfully aware that she was no longer the little Elle he had held. Elle had grown up, just as he had. He hated growth and how it changed people; he hated that they had grown and no longer relied on each other. He hated being a big man and wished he could turn back time.

He hated that his Red was getting married. He hated that she was no longer his and that he couldn’t hold her the way he wanted. He hated everything. He hated himself and everything that had broken him.

Max was so lost in his thoughts of hatred that he remained unaware he was pressing Elle against him, his arms crushing her small waist, so small that his one hand could almost wrap around it.

“Get off my hair, Angel!” she exclaimed, slapping his chest angrily. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me!” She frantically hit at his chest until he finally released her waist and withdrew his body. She pulled her hair free from beneath him and quickly began to rise, only to lose her balance again. He sat up and steadied her by the waist.

Her face was flushed, and her heart pounded frantically. Max couldn’t tell if it was from anger, but her eyes made it clear she was angry. He quickly let go of her waist, but because she was leaning on him with all her weight, she fell forward onto the grass, her face landing in the soft blades.

Max cursed under his breath and got to his feet, bending to help her stand again. When she rose, the front of her dress was wet from laying on the grass where she had vomited. She turned her angry eyes on him and raised her hand as if to slap him, but then stopped, clenching her fingers and lowering her hand. She looked away from him and frantically wiped at her eyes with the heels of her palms, hiding her tears.