The past connection — pt 2

Bart laughed. A terrible, horrible thought went through his head. Bart wished that he’d never sat down next to the crying girl in that playground. He wasn’t even allowed to be there. His mother took pity on him and snuck him out of the house every now and then so that he wouldn’t grow up "too much of a prince" as she put it. Strictly speaking, as far as his father was concerned, Bart Arden never left the residence for anything until he went off to boarding school. For the first time in his life, he wished it was the truth. That the first woman he met was the one in front of him, the one that was so taken with him, that he was so taken with despite telling himself that she deserved better, the one his father didn’t object to. The one he could marry tomorrow. If she had been, she would have suited him exactly and his heart would still be in one piece.

Maybe it was the soul crushing pain that these useless wishes brought, the feeling that meant he was still irrevocably hers, but Bart wanted to go along with what the little temptress wanted. He could give her the moments she wanted at least, even if he couldn’t give her himself. He stood behind her and covered her hands where she held the bow and arrow, as he was certain had been her intent and shot the first arrow with her.

"Bullseye!"

He grinned at her as she picked up the second arrow and he covered her hands with his again. Just before she shot the arrow he let go. The new arrow landed right next to the original. He gave her a knowing look.

"Wow, you’re an amazing teacher," she cooed.

He laughed heartily.

"You’re full of shit."

She sucked in her lips, biting back the smile in her eyes.

"I’m leaving. You’re a liar," he said, turning around.

"So you’re really never going to give this thing a shot?" she asked, stopping him dead in his tracks. "Not even when she’s engaged and living with-"

He spun around, hurt, panic and terror on his face.

"How do you know that?"

He walked back up to her and grabbed her shoulders.

"How do you know where she is? I don’t even know where she is."

Aria looked down.

"Let go Barry," she said in a small voice.

"How many people are coming to dinner tonight Ria?!"

He was screaming now, desperation and anguish in every word, begging her to say the words, to tell her he was wrong.

"Prince Troy is coming to see how Diane is doing," she answered blankly, a tear falling down her cheek. "And he’s bringing his fiancee, Princess Caroline."

Bart let go, drawing his fingers through his hair.

"I can’t stay here. I can’t sit across from her, next to her. Are you out of your mind?! Why would you invite me to this?! Why didn’t any of you tell me she was coming?!"

He didn’t stay for the answers to any of his questions. Bart ran back to his room and started packing like a mad man. The pain, the anguish, the hardship of the last three months was nothing compared to this. Keep going, keep moving, make arrangements, get away. Get on a plane, a bus, in a car, anything. He was going to run again, run from her, from the pain, from the explosion happening inside him, but he couldn’t help it. What else was there to do? How else would he survive? There would be nothing left of him if he had to meet this man, break bread with him, talk to him. He barely existed as it was.

When Ethan found Bart, he had already packed up all his stuff. Bart was trying to remember the way out of the place he’d left so many times in the last three months with Aria, with Ethan, with them both.

"What’s with the bags? You planning on disappearing into the night without telling me or something?" Ethan grinned, taking in the suitcases.

"Yes," Bart answered coldly.

Ethan’s smile fell.

"You are? Why? Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Tonight’s dinner guests-"

"Oh, about that. That’s not happening tonight anymore. Prince Troy’s only coming tomorrow after all. Something about his fiancee giving him a hard time about coming."

Bart dropped the suitcases and let himself fall down onto his knees, his eyes welling up. He wouldn’t see her after all, he wouldn’t be near her after all. Bart hadn’t been thinking about seeing her. All he could see was the man next to her. Until that very second, he hadn’t really considered, let it sink in, that seeing Prince Troy also meant seeing Caroline.

Ethan frowned.

"What’s your deal, Barry? You look like shit."

"How could you not tell me?! How could you not tell me that they were coming?!"

Bart was breathing heavily now. He was leaking heartache.

Ethan took a knee, worried for his friend and the state he was in. He’d never seen Bart like this.

"You mean Prince Troy? You never care who’s coming to dinner. I didn’t think-"

"That’s right, you didn’t think! He’s not just anyone, she’s not... just anyone."

Realization came over Ethan’s face.

"Oh damn, buddy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was, I didn’t know he was bringing your girl."

Ethan sat with Bart until he settled down, but even when the breathing returned to normal and Bart got up off of the floor, his eyes remained blank. There was nothing in them. Bart just stared listlessly into space. He had been wrong. Whatever was between this woman and Bart was not a crush. His feelings for her were not going to disappear in a fortnight, or a few months. This woman was part of Bart, etched into his very being. She wasn’t going anywhere, not for a long time, if ever.

Aria had finally gathered enough courage to go to Bart’s room. She found him sitting with Ethan, both of them unusually silent. Ethan got up and walked to the door and then stopped.

"I’d put it off if I could, but Diane’s been here for a while now and her brothers are getting antsy about seeing her."

Not knowing what else to say, Ethan left them alone.

"I’m sorry," she said in a small voice. "I wasn’t thinking. I should have told you."

Bart felt eerily calm as he continued to stare at the wall. He wasn’t sure where his head was at, but it wasn’t in that room. He was trying really hard to come back, to tell her what he needed to. That he couldn’t stay anymore, that he never should have come in the first place, never should have gotten to know her, given her memories that he was about to taint with pain.

"I’m going home," he managed at last.

"Barry please," she whispered.

He stood up and went to her, taking her hands in his.

"It’s time Aria. I shouldn’t have stayed here so long or have come at all. It wasn’t fair to you."

Bartholomew Arden made it difficult to be mad at him. She wanted to be pissed, because he had gotten to know her, he had spent all this time with her. Really though, all she felt was angry at herself. For falling for him so easily when it was never even a possibility for him, but that wasn’t his fault. He had warned her from the start that there was no future here. She was the one that ignored him and pushed on anyway.

She squeezed his hands and said, "Promise me something."

"Ria-"

"Promise me that if, when we next meet, neither of us are married, that we’ll go on a real, official date, just the two of us."

Bart laughed.

"I don’t think that’s the best idea. I don’t trust you not to trick me into seeing you somehow."

"Please Barry. Promise. No tricks, I swear. If it happens, it’ll be totally natural or at the very least after you’ve gotten over her."

He knew he would never see her again, not on purpose. Bart didn’t want to do that to her, to this beautiful woman who deserved someone who was all in, completely obsessed with her. She must know it too. Maybe this was simply her way of saying goodbye. Maybe it would make the goodbye sting a little less.

"No tricks?" he asked, pulling her to him.

He wanted to tell her they should go now, that in time he could be that guy for her. He truly and genuinely wanted to stay with her, wanted her to be the woman in his heart, wished it wasn’t so undeniably occupied.

"No tricks," she cried.

The tears were flowing freely now, but somehow this stupid piece of hope that he would not deny her made her happy.

"Okay Ria, I promise. You have my word."

He wouldn’t have been able to leave that night even if he tried. Bart was completely tied up in her and the strength of the feelings he wished he could return. So he stayed with her, gave her one more memory he had no right to.