Aliya's Shoes

Inside the Thornston Residence and after the workers had left Ian's doorway, he relaxed somewhat inside the dark room. He preferred the quiet, and his mother had been too loud earlier.

Ian buried his face in the pillow. His tear-well had dried up, and he could not bring out anymore, but his emotional state remained the same. Ian then sat up. For some reason, he was unsettled and listless.

For the first time in a long time, he started feeling an emotion other than the pain and sadness in his heart. He slowly stood up from the bed and staggered back a bit, holding the head frame to stabilize himself.

Ian had heard their efforts to break his door, but he couldn't care less about what they did. He glanced at the door briefly and then headed towards the opposite direction in his room without turning the light on.

He recalled that his mother had come around several times in the past few days, but he could not remember much of what she had said. Obviously, only one word stuck with him: 'marriage!'

He knew very well how stubborn Geneva Thornston was, but they were not mother and child for anything. They were similar in that aspect.

"I am never getting married to anyone else in this life." He whispered in the empty room as Aliya's familiar image registered in his mind. He closed his eyes briefly as he tried to keep the image of her laughing as much as possible.

Ian opened his eyes and approached his dresser. He was already acclimatized to the darkness in his room and did not need any light source.. He picked up a picture off his stand. It was of Aliya. She smiled widely at the camera. Ian remembered the day he had taken the picture so intensely that it was like he had only taken it the day before. This was the only picture he had of her.

He caressed the picture and set it down as a slight wave of dizziness washed over him. He stood still for a while, keeping his eyes tightly closed. He then carefully placed the picture on the nightstand. Ian headed straight for a backdoor and opened it. It opened to a wide yard at the back of his estate wing. He paused and gazed up at the evening sky.

It was already slightly dark, just the way he liked. He took small steps forward and moved a twined-like small door aside. He felt he had used all his strength in that small activity. It opened through a small winding path. He stared down the winding path a little. He used to play with Aliya there when they were younger.

It was their own secret path. Ian knew that he would not meet anyone along that path, so he relaxed and let his memory run through their times together as he walked the path. He followed along with this, and the distant sounds from the ceremony guided him. He walked slowly and in no hurry.

Ian had a fair idea of how his mother worked, so he was not surprised at all that the supposed ceremony had gone on without him. It did not take long before he appeared, where he had a full view of the whole ceremony.

He stopped just in the shadows and took in the surroundings. The scene he had chanced upon was that of Shelby dancing.

He had not decided to stay and was just about to leave when she started her dance moves. Ian was rooted on the spot through the entirety of the dance. He had no idea why, but Ian felt as if he had to watch what the girl was doing.

His mind remained blank throughout the fluid movements of his bride. But Ian never once took a step forward. He stood transfixed at the same spot, watched her till the end, and then turned swiftly, not looking back even once.

As the music ended and Shelby came to a stop, a shadow flickered at the corner of Shelby's vision. She turned to look at the dark corners of the garden but did not see anyone. She stared in that direction briefly, wondering who or what was there.

'Might have been my imagination,' she thought.

Turning her attention back, she could feel the strange gazes from the guests, especially the women around, while her eyes re-roamed the darkness as she was positive that someone had been there. It was like a gut instinct!

Shelby remembered what one of her friends, Ava, told her: "Shelby, I don't think you should dance like this in front of anyone!"

"Why?"

"It's… I mean, I-it's …. anyway, just don't do it!"

"But I remember you saying that I dance so well, right?"

"Shelby, I am not saying that you do not dance well. Your dance is excellent, but I think it's better to dance when you are alone…. Or dance for your future husband, okay?"

"What kind of gibberish talk is that?"

"I-"

Ava had never told her why, but the look she had given her the day she saw this choreographed dance was exactly what she saw on most women's faces. It would have helped Shelby understand if her other friend, Briana, had contributed to the conversation then. But Briana had never said much about it, and Briana was a complex friend to begin with.

It wasn't the same dance she had indulged with her two friends, though, because Shelby was a free spirit when it came to dancing, and Shelby could improvise on the spot when it came to dancing.

Just then, a small hand grabbed her dangling fingers.

"Mama Shelby, me too. I want to dance, too."

She laughed and held Gabriel's other hand.

"Of course, Gabriel. May I have this dance?" She curtsied low.

He giggled and nodded. The two swayed on the dance floor just a tall queue of neatly dressed staff brought in trays of wine.

For the second time that evening, a wave of murmurs rushed out from the guests, but this time, it was filled with expectation and euphoria. For every Thornston event, people looked forward to their exquisite wine. Wine that many of them could not afford to buy themselves. Alex and Geneva only served their most expensive wines that were not on the market on every 'important' occasion.

James looked on now, almost angrily, as Shelby enjoyed herself on the dance floor with the little boy. He clenched his fists tightly, and Clara happened to look at him at that moment. She traced his line of sight and tapped him.

"James?"

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